Hey there! Before we jump into today’s story, I just wanna say that I’m sorry this came in way overdue. Gosh! Kids has been picking up the pace, and I’ve been swamped with little pieces of responsibilities from everywhere. Given the pace of my life right now, I’ll be sending this newsletter once every two/three weeks. This gives me more time to think + write the best for you.
I hope you be inspired by today’s edition. Thanks for sticking around :)
In 2009, a billionaire visited McGill University where Greg Isenberg went to school. Greg had one question for him:
What’s the greatest piece of advice for both young and older people alike?
The billionaire’s response:
“If you can’t get your work done between 9-6, you aren’t doing your job properly.”
A fair answer. But this threw Isenberg off his feet. “At that time, I was working 80-hour weeks, doing everything I can to make it”, writes Isenberg. And he had a love/hate relationship with that lifestyle. The following day, Isenberg swore to himself that for the rest of his life, he’ll never work >50 hours a week. That amount of time may be enough to film and edit a short film, but it surely wasn’t sufficient to run a product agency, and certainly not enough to start three companies before selling them all.
But that was how Isenberg operated his life as a tech entrepreneur ever since. And he did pretty well.
His secret?
Isenberg discovered, in the midst of his hustle, the philosophy of slow living.
My slow living journey is all about simple acts, like turning my morning coffee routine into a full-on sensory experience. Or taking these undisturbed, nature-filled walks during lunch without my phone, kind of syncing myself with nature’s rhythms.
This defies human logic. More often we would equate building 7-figure valuated companies by taking the day slow and easy. Most would expect the opposite: 24 hours, 7 days a week grind and a daily 3 hour sleep cycle. “Work = life” should have been the right mantra.
Pfft. Slow living?
But Isenberg owes much of his success to these simple acts that “transformed his everyday life, making it much more mindful and relaxed.” And contrary to popular belief, the best ideas, Isenberg writes, “don’t always spring from high-pressure brainstorming sessions or late-night cramming”.
“More often”, he says, “they seep into consciousness during moments of quiet contemplation, while watching the stillness of a lake at dawn or enjoying that first, slow sip of morning coffee, undisturbed by digital distractions”. His zone of creativity was built upon the serenity of the surroundings he chose to immerse himself in.
And the world he was living in, no matter how painful or exhausting, begins with loving what you do and doing what you love.
We’re not in La La Land
Sometimes I find myself pondering:
Do I love what I do?
“Sure I do” was always the immediate response in my head. Duh. If I don’t love what I do, why am I even doing it in the first place. But do I. Do I really love what I do?
One way to test yourself with limited bias is to reflect on how you got started. Whether you’re an entrepreneur, an executive or an educator, musing on your origin story is a great way to zoom out on from your current position and project how it could pan out in the future. The golden question of “could you do this forever” is a powerful one to ask yourself.
But we all know that waking up every morning feeling excited about the day ahead is more fantasy than reality. We’re not in La La Land. There are days where you feel like your world is caving it. There are days where you’re doubting yourself. And there are days where you’ll ask yourself where is this all going?
An ex-coworker once said to me, “on some days, work is good. On some days, work is bad. Enjoy the good days while it last. Embrace the bad days as it pass. If you’re always having good, happy days, then really, nothing is ever good, and it’ll never be”.
That stuck with me. For some reason I knew life won’t always be a bed of roses. I’m not suggesting that we should never strive for happy, carefree days. But knowing that it’s impossible for that to happen, even if we hope for it to be, perhaps we should redefine our expectations.
While this epiphany bogged down on me, it reminded me of Novak Djokovic.
No intention to gain
In a span of 5 years after turning pro, Djokovic was the number three ranked player in the world and a grand slam winner. But after being knocked-out in the quarterfinals in the 2010 French Open, Djokovic hit a brick wall.
He first told his parents he was done, then he went to tell his coach Maria Vajda. In response to a grown-man in tears, Vajda asked, “Why did you start playing this sport? Put aside rankings and what you want to achieve, do you really like holding a racket in your hand?”. Tearfully, Djokovic looked up and said, “I do. I love holding a racket in my hand. Whether it’s a grand slam final or on centre court or just a normal public court, I like playing for the sake of playing.”
Whether you are a tech entrepreneur embracing serenity, a tennis superstar reminiscing his rookie origins, or somewhere in the middle like me, one thing shows up: the purpose of your actions does not necessarily require the intention to gain.
It’s strange but true, a tough nut to crack for many of you who are building a career and life for yourselves.
Society and culture rewards us in exchange for time and effort. Success has been defined by how much you've achieved and how well you are on the ladder against everyone. The unfortunate consequence is that instead of challenging ourselves to do our best, the invisible race to the top has (unknowingly) led us to go full berserk, till a point where, I believe, we’ve lost sight of why we’re doing it in the first place.
And as I've said before, if we have no interest in the things we do, we will only go that far.
We’ve lost touch of our love for what we do. And at the other side of our efforts, we expect nothing short of a trove of money, recognition or validation.
A crumb of a humongous pie
In 2008, “In The Heights” won a Grammy and four Tony Awards. During the award ceremony at Radio City Music Hall, the entire cast and crew gathered on stage as they received the final Tony award for Best Musical. In a joyful moment, two individuals lifted Lin-Manuel Miranda, the writer and star of the musical, onto their shoulders, amidst fist-pumping, waving, screaming, and smiles.
Almost immediately, the atmosphere shifted when the lights changed, and the audience began to leave. Tommy Kail, director of the musical, remained on stage, choosing to stand there alone.
“Forty-four seconds,” as pointed out by Billy Oppenheimer, “that’s how long the cast stood on stage for to receive the award and give their thanks. That’s 0.000017% of the eight years Kail spent working on it. To let 0.000017% of an experience determine one’s happiness or satisfaction with the work, Kail realised, is insane”.
Outcomes make up a fraction of the experiences. A crumb of a humongous pie.
But yet we give it permission to decide what is fulfilling or satisfying for ourselves.
The fast-paced, hyper connected lives build on pre-defined pillars of success has made it feel like we're being robbed by gaining nothing out of something.
When my family and I relocated to Japan at the beginning of 2022, I had to quit my day job and Gladys had to shelf Gosh! Kids. In the quickest instant, we were carrying our suitcases and newborn son into a country that was rampant with coronavirus.
"It’s crazy how much we’ve sacrificed to be here”, I told Gladys one sunday evening, lying on the beaches of Fukuoka City while watching our then 11-month old playing blissfully in the water. I remembered telling myself if this was worth anything. But deep down, I knew the answer.
Despite forgoing valuable business opportunities and precious time with our external family and friends, Gladys and I experienced something money couldn’t buy. This could only be because we loved something more than 'success' as defined by culture.
Sometimes you hate it
Loving what you do is not just about enjoying the process all the time. It’s also about loving the awful moments. The times when you disagree with a business partner. The times when you made a wrong decision. The times when you made a bad call and lost money.
Loving what you do is about despising the bad moments so much that it drives you to be better.
To fully extract the most value of what you do, begin with the litmus test: if there are no monetary benefits, no recognition or no reasonable impact, will you still be doing what you do. If there’s nothing to gain out of your actions, can you still wake up in the morning and be ready the take on the world ahead.
If your answer is yes, I applaud you. Because truth is, only a minority of people can say that truthfully. If your answer is no, reconsider your definition of what you find fulfilling. For Isenberg, it was about his unruffled mornings. For Djokovic, it was about holding the racket in his hand. Find your version.
Craig Groeschel once said that “everything worth doing is hard”. And if your life is hard, you’re on the right track.
When you do not love what you do, you’ll find all ways, no matter how easy or unrelated, to get the job done. But when you love what you do, you’ll bite the bullet to see it through from start to finish.
And even if you love what you do, and sometimes hate it, don’t beat yourself.
Be well,
MBT (@mathieubeth)
✍🏻 Writing Tip
✔️ The Hero’s Journey
Not so much a writing tip, but a narrative structure popularized by the American mythologist and writer Joseph Campbell. In his book “The Hero with a Thousand Faces”, he outlines a recurring pattern that heroes undergo in their adventures, regardless of cultural or historical context.
And your audience, the hero, is at the centre of this story.
Consider of the following milestones in the structure:
The Call to Adventure: The hero is introduced to a challenge or opportunity that calls them to venture into the unknown. This could be a problem that needs solving or a higher purpose they must fulfill.
Refusal of the Call: Initially, the hero may be hesitant or reluctant to accept the call due to fear, self-doubt, or a desire to stay in their comfort zone.
Meeting the Mentor: The hero encounters a wise and experienced mentor or guide who provides them with knowledge, tools, or encouragement to embark on their journey.
Crossing the Threshold: The hero decides to leave their familiar world and enters the unknown, symbolizing their commitment to the adventure.
Tests, Allies, and Enemies: During the journey, the hero faces various challenges, encounters allies who support them, and confronts enemies or antagonists who oppose them.
Approach to the Inmost Cave: The hero approaches a crucial and dangerous point in their journey, representing their innermost fears or obstacles they must overcome.
Ordeal: The hero faces a life-threatening or transformative experience, a climactic moment that tests their resolve and character.
Reward (Seizing the Sword): After overcoming the ordeal, the hero receives a reward, which can be knowledge, a special weapon, or a crucial insight.
The Road Back: The hero begins the journey back to their ordinary world, but they may still face challenges or confrontations.
Resurrection: The hero faces one final and significant test, where they are reborn or transformed, shedding their old self and embracing their new identity.
Return with the Elixir: The hero returns to their ordinary world, bringing with them the knowledge or treasure they gained during their adventure. They may use this newfound wisdom to benefit their community or fulfill their initial purpose.
The next time you’re crafting a story, see how The Hero’s Journey could transform your narrative into a powerful, compelling story that move the hearts and minds of your audience.
📸 Photography Tip
✔️ Portrait Twist
A simple tip for today!
Add a little twist (pun intended) to your portrait by twisting the subject orientation. In this photo, Gladys was rotated so that her starting point was from the bottom left point. What this does is it adds more depth to the photograph. Next time you’re shooting portraits, examine how you can turn the picture in way that’s unconventional.