I've always seen greatness in people — in every person I meet. And more than that, I have the ability to help them see it in themselves, I do the same for myself. It's one of my core skills — maybe the core skill — that has made me who I am and helped push others toward who they could become.
But here's what age and wisdom have taught me: what I think you can become is completely irrelevant unless two things are true. First, you actually care about my opinion, and trust me. And second, you want my advice. Some people don't. And that's okay. I'm not claiming to be all-knowing. In fact — here's a shocker — I've been wrong. But I've been right enough times, with enough consistency, that I'm confident this is real.
I'll also be honest about my blind spots. I'm an INTJ, and the way I'm wired, growth is the only true North Star. Getting better is the point. Emotions, feelings — my instinct has always been to treat them as noise. That mindset has cost me. I've turned people off with my approach, especially personality types that need to feel heard before they can hear feedback. I know now that not everyone processes the world the way I do, and I'm still learning how to bridge that gap.
I say all of this not to sound egotistical, but to be real with you — and to share what actually goes on in my head, because maybe some part of it is useful to you even if the whole thing isn't.
The Way I Think
For me, the key has always been to assume there's a next level. And not a minor improvement — a major one. I don't set goals to get a little bit better. I set goals that are ten times bigger. It's not about working a little harder. It's about working ten times harder.
I know that sounds intense. And the reality never maps exactly to what's in my head. But the intensity is the point. I spend very little time enjoying a win. When I reach the next level, I feel the satisfaction, I sit with it briefly, and then I move on. I keep pushing.
I'll admit that this intensity has not always served me well. I've burned myself out. But I don't think that means the approach itself is wrong — just that the execution wasn't always patient enough.
What Wisdom Has Taught Me
The drive is everything. But it's maximized with an equal level of compassion and patience with yourself as you push through. And if you can hold these two truths at the same time — relentless ambition and genuine self-grace — even if you don't fully reach the vision, you'll surpass most everyone else.
The framework is simpler than it sounds. It just takes a curious mind willing to imagine several iterations of a better version of yourself, matched with a compassionate human being who gives themselves permission to fail along the way.
But here's an important point: creating a vision of excellence is a skill. It's not something that comes naturally. That's why when people sit down to do it for the first time, they often don't come up with anything magnificent — and that's okay. But the trick is you have to keep trying. You have to exercise that vision muscle. The first version you write might be a low bar. It might not even be close to where you could actually go. So write it down. Cross it out. Write a better one. Cross it out. Write a better one. Cross it out. Write a better one.
And if you're struggling to see it on your own, work with people who do have that vision and let them push you. If you trust them — truly trust them — don't fight them. Go with it. Don't underestimate the effort it takes to create a better version of yourself, especially if you've never practiced it.
This is just the way I think and feel and operate. It's certainly not the way everyone does, and there's probably much more for me to learn. But I thought it was worth sharing.
Because I believe in you. And I hope you do too.