Have a seat, son, and let’s talk about your goals. You might be 18 or 28 or 48. Your age doesn’t matter. We need to sit down and talk, because if you fail to plan, you plan to fail.
Where do you see yourself in 5 years? 10 years? What are your goals?
It all seems overwhelming, and that’s because your unconscious mind realizes something that none of these idiots talking about goals do.
Planning is for cowards.
People make plans for one reason only. They are cowards unwilling to accept that life is chaos and warfare.
They are cowards afraid of recognizing that success or failure depends not upon outside circumstances that can be “planned around.”
They are cowards unwilling to admit one undeniable and horrifying fact.
You are in control of you.
This is a horrifying realization because it means you must take personal responsibility for your life.
This is terrifying because you want an excuse to lose control of your thoughts, feelings, and emotions.
You want to rant and rave against the world and forces outside of your own control rather than take control over yourself.
You are afraid because once you accept that you are in control of you, then you cannot blame external circumstances or the “unfairness of life” for your station in life.
You don’t have the courage to ask, “What is living life with no excuses like?”
I was once a coward.
It’s 2014. Ten years ago I was about to graduate from law school.
Up until that time I was an all-American boy. I was an officer in the Army Reserves. I worked my way through college. I followed all of society’s rules.
I did everything right.
I planned on having a nice life. I was going to be a highly successful trial lawyer.
Then, as the cowards say, “It was all taken from me.”
I got charged with rape. I was too stressed out to study. I lost my scholarship.
I cried myself to sleep and contemplated suicide.
“This is so unfair. It’s not my fault! Why is this happening to me?”
Nothing was taken from me.
Nothing was happening to me.
I was happening to me.
I lost control of my life. That was a choice I made.
I choose to look outward at the cold, cruel world rather than inward at myself.
What was happening to me? Me.
What is happening to you? You.
Your only plan is you.
You don’t know where you will be or who you will be with.
The only person you know will be there for you is you.
Your only answer to that stupid question about your five year plan is, “Me.”
“What’s your 5 year plan, Mike?”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Mike.”
It doesn’t have to make sense to you. It’s my life and only has to make sense to me.
The only plan that ever worked in the history of man is for you to be the best man you can be.
Being the best or the worst or settling for mediocrity is a choice you make every day, and every minute of every day.
Life has hit you hard? Join the club, buddy. There’s room to your right and your left, but it’s going to be a tight fit. We could fill 10,000 stadiums with people who have been worked over by life.
We couldn’t fill a single stadium with men who say, “Bring it on. Bring it all on.”
What, if some day or night a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: ‘This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more’ … Would you not throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse the demon who spoke thus? Or have you once experienced a tremendous moment when you would have answered him: ‘You are a god and never have I heard anything more divine.’ Nietzsche, The Gay Science, §341.
Start planning now.
What are you going to do today to invest in yourself?
I walked my dog. He ran some sprints and is laying by my feet as I type this. I never touched my iPhone and gave him my full attention. If I had children, I would have spent my morning playing with them. Not iPhoning it in as a dad.
I talked to my consultant at BADNET about logo design.
I chugged a nootropic and talked with my business partner in that venture about product formulations.
I worked with my new web guy. (You’ve probably noticed some changes and may have gotten a PDF from me; sorry about that typo in there.)
I watched a Jeff Walker video and got a great idea. I’m going to convert a wall into a white board that you can write on and erase.
I’m going to the gym to jump rope and hit the heavy bag.
I’ll do 100 or 1,000 small tasks that will build the road that I walk through life.
I’ll be laying bricks for another 12 hours before sleeping like a man who has done something with his Sunday.
What are you going to do?
Are you going to sit around and rant about the unfairness of the world, like some Tumblr dork?
Play some video games?
Maybe you’re getting over a hang over? “Ugh, my head hurts so much. I’ll never do that again.” (And then you take another drink.)
Jerk off to Internet porn like some filthy drug addict?
Are you going to cry yourself to sleep like some lovesick teenager?
Or are you going to make the decision to take ownership of your life?
Vigilance is a virtue you live every second of every day.
Vigilance is chief of the masculine virtues.
This post is on its
44th 58, 87th 93rd edit. You’ll still find a typo in it. The work is never done.
You don’t wake up, decide to take on life, and then watch everything fall into place.
You make hundreds or thousands of decisions every day to win or lose, to conquer or retreat, to laugh or cry.
Each of these decisions is a brick you lay. Rome was not built in a day. Nor will your life be built in one day.
Start laying some bricks.