Hey friends, Chase here. Every summer, I revisit conversations from the archive that have stood the test of time. Not because I'm nostalgic, but because the best ideas don't expire. They deepen. This is the sixth and final installment of Summer School 2026—episodes I personally returned to most this year when I was stuck, blocked, or facing a very particular need. This one with Elizabeth Gilbert is the closer for a reason. I kept finding myself spending so much time navigating my internal landscape that it felt like it was taking me away from everything I wanted to do out in the world. And then I remembered something Liz said that rearranged the frame: she considers mental health her full-time job. Writing—being a professional creator—is a hobby she does on the side. That line alone is worth revisiting every summer. Liz Gilbert is the bestselling author of Eat, Pray, Love (more than 12 million copies), a Time 100 most influential person, novelist of City of Girls, and the rare creative who can talk about fear, mercy, grief, and truth-telling without flinching—and without performing enlightenment. She's a force of nature. Spend a few minutes with her and you'll know why. In this conversation, she makes the case that the way out of pain is through honesty. That grace can take you places hustling can't. That mercy is the foundation of any healthy creative life. And that you make the world safe for yourself by telling the truth in it. Grace can take you places where hustling can't. Summer School: Elizabeth Gilbert on Truth-Telling, Mercy, and the Art of Being Yourself Liz opens with City of Girls—a novel about promiscuous girls in 1940s New York theater who behave recklessly with their sexuality and aren't ruined by it. A palate cleanser, she jokes, from Anna Karenina: one orgasm and then you're under the train. Underneath the glamour is a deeper subject: how do you become yourself? How do you just be—not a role, not a brand, not a performance of "good girl"? Her aspiration is almost revolutionary: to be the most relaxed person in every room she's in. To show what it might look like for a woman—for anyone—to be at ease in a world of nearly universal anxiety. How do you get there? Not by hustling harder. Through foundational, almost unbelievable honesty—truth to yourself and truth to others. Spending most of the day saying no. Ending the hustle so grace has room to work. Her great love and teacher, Rayya (Ria in the transcript), lived by a line Liz now lives by too: the truth has legs. It's the only thing left standing in the room at the end of the day. Everything else blows up into drama. Since you're going to end up at the truth anyway—why not start there? If you've ever felt that taking care of your inner world is somehow stealing time from your "real work," this episode will reframe that entirely. The care is the real work. What You'll Hear in This Episode Why City of Girls is about becoming yourself—and why "just being" is rarer than we admit Liz's aspiration to be the most relaxed person in the room—and why honesty makes that possible "The truth has legs"—and how Rayya schooled her in radical truth-telling How withheld truth eventually breaks the body and mind—and why die-or-tell-the-truth becomes the only choice Why people-pleasing is really self-protection, not generosity Creativity and fear: being just 1% more curious than you are afraid A working definition of a creative life: decisions based more on curiosity than fear Mercy as the foundation—for self, for others, for the inevitable disappointment of making imperfect work Mental health as the full-time job; writing as the side practice The daily dialogue with Love that has saved her life for 20 years—and why writing slows the mind What to do when you're creatively stuck: walk away and do something with your hands Truth Has Legs Liz is clear: try to have a completely honest relationship with at least one person in your life—and it's best if that person is yourself. When she was younger, she thought she couldn't tell the truth because the world wasn't safe for it. Later she learned the reverse: you make the world safe for yourself by telling the truth in it. Around 30, the first major truth she couldn't say—ending her marriage—nearly destroyed her. Sleep gone. Appetite gone. Twenty pounds lost. Mental health broken. Physical health broken. Die or tell the truth. She finally told it. Instead of killing her, it brought her to life. And if she'd said it two years earlier, it would have been a greater gift to him as well. People-pleasing, in her frame, isn't kindness. It's manipulation for perceived safety. The other person deserves to know who they're actually talking to. And truth-telling isn't a one-and-done graduation. Life keeps offering another chance to be brave. The only way out is through honesty. Do it again. Trust builds. It gets easier—not because the stakes drop, but because you finally believe the method. Rayya's cancer journey deepened this. When Liz couldn't cope by clinging to her partner as salvation, she had to become the steady one. Wisdom she doesn't share, she says, starts to hurt—like unused talent turns into pain. So she shares. Not out of marketing duty to readers. Out of self-preservation and love. Mercy, Curiosity, and Mental Health as the Job Asked for compressed creative advice, Liz answers in one word: mercy. Mercy for yourself. Mercy for others. Mercy for the inevitable disappointment when what you make isn't the tourmaline butterfly you dreamed—when day one excitement becomes day two self-hatred. The only people who get to day three are the people who have mercy. Ann Patchett's image: smash the gemstone butterfly on day one, then make the weird little thing out of chewing gum and baseball cards and twigs—and say, good job, self. No one's ever made one like that before. That's compassion: ending the argument against reality. This is what we've got. Flap flap. A piece falls off. Keep going. On fear, Liz's saving grace is curiosity—just 1% more curious than afraid. That's enough. Her definition of a creative life isn't watercolor class. It's any life where your decisions are routinely based more strongly on curiosity than fear. Then the life itself becomes the work of art. And here's the Summer School lightning bolt: an enormous percentage of Liz's days is spent managing her mental health—the "dysfunctional family" inside her mind. Writing is what she does on the side. She was managing her mental health on the plane that morning. There are very few days off from saving her own life. Her primary practice for twenty years: a daily dialogue with Love (capital L)—writing the words she always wanted someone to say. I'm right here. I've got you. You can't tire me out. Love doesn't need the room to be different. Love doesn't issue a five-point improvement plan. Love is company in the darkest hour. Writing slows the mind enough to receive that. When creativity is stuck? Don't force the tormented artist fantasy. Walk away. Garden. Fix a bicycle. Power-wash a driveway. Get out of your head and into your hands. Inspiration returns after embodiment—not after more self-punishment. Timecodes So You Can Jump Around 00:00 – Welcome and why this episode closes Summer School 2026 04:24 – Liz joins; City of Girls, becoming yourself, and the aspiration to be relaxed 13:32 – Honesty, saying no, and "grace can take you places hustling can't" 15:12 – Rayya, addiction, and "the truth has legs" 19:00+ – The first major truth at 30: breakdown, then coming alive 22:23 – Truth-telling and creativity; Eat, Pray, Love as a story of learning to tell the truth 30:00+ – Rayya's illness, grief, and why unshared wisdom becomes pain 36:14 – Fear, curiosity, and the definition of a creative life 38:51 – Mercy: the foundation (and the tourmaline butterfly) 43:40 – Mental health as the full-time job; writing as the hobby 45:00 – The daily dialogue with Love 51:38 – Scrapping a book, gardening, and what to do when you're stuck 54:21 – Paint bicycles / power-wash driveways: walk away into the present Why This Conversation Still Matters We still live in the anxiety virus Liz named—exported globally, amplified by politics, climate dread, and the demand to be a thing at all times. Creators still treat self-care as optional overhead between "real" output. Hustle culture still pretends grace is lazy. This conversation is the antidote. Mental health isn't what you do after you're successful. It's the work that makes everything else possible. Truth isn't a brand strategy. It's how you stop poisoning your own body with secrets. Mercy isn't soft. It's the only way anyone ever reaches day three. That's why this episode earned the final Summer School slot. The year asked a lot of our inner landscapes. Liz's answer is still the one that helps me return to the world without abandoning myself: tell the truth. Tend the mind. Prefer curiosity over fear. Make the imperfect butterfly. Keep company with Love. Class dismissed—until next summer. Keep Going Deeper If this conversation resonates: City of Girls Big Magic Eat, Pray, Love Liz online: elizabethgilbert.com Follow Liz: Instagram | X/Twitter | Website Questions to Reflect On Where am I hustling for a result that only grace—and honesty—can deliver? What truth do I already know I'm going to end up telling—and what would it cost to start with it? Am I making the world safer for myself through honesty, or waiting for the world to feel safe first? Where has people-pleasing become self-protection dressed up as kindness? In my creative work, am I on day two (self-hatred) or practicing the mercy that gets me to day three? If mental health were my full-time job this week, what would change about how I schedule my days? When I'm stuck, am I forcing the art—or am I willing to power-wash a driveway and return to the present? The Core Idea You don't graduate from truth-telling. You practice it. You don't earn rest by producing enough. You save your own life daily so you have a life worth creating from. Liz's invitation—as the last lesson of this Summer School season—is both soft and severe: tell the truth until the room is safe. Put mercy under every creative attempt. Be just slightly more curious than afraid. Tend the warring neighborhood in your mind like it's the job. Write love to yourself when no one else can hold the need. And when the work won't move—move your body instead. If there's one lesson worth carrying forward from this final Summer School session, it's this: Mental health is the work. Creativity is what you get to do when you've tended it—and the only way out of the hard parts is through honesty.

Hey friends, Chase here. Every summer, I revisit conversations from the archive that have stood the test of time. Not because I'm nostalgic, but because the best ideas don't expire. They deepen. This is another installment of Summer School—episodes I personally went back to this year when I was stuck. This one with Mel Robbins is near the top of that list. At 41, Mel was unemployed, drowning in debt, and so overwhelmed she could barely get out of bed. Then she discovered something that sounds almost too simple to take seriously: the 5-Second Rule. Count backwards—5-4-3-2-1—and move before your brain talks you out of it. This conversation was recorded roughly eight years ago, well before Mel hit the stratospheric pace the world knows her for now. A mutual friend introduced us. We sat down in the CreativeLive studios. She taught a barnstormer of a class. And the episode stuck with me—because when doubt, delay, and inertia show up, this is the kind of hardcore, no-B.S. toolkit that actually helps you move. Mel calls herself the fucked-up friend who figured some things out and got wise. She doesn't want you to make the same mistakes. She's done the hard work on habit, confidence, self-doubt, and how anxiety becomes a habit that robs you of joy, money, connection, and power. You're one decision away from a totally different life. Summer School: Mel Robbins on Anxiety, Action, and the 5-Second Rule Mel's path wasn't linear. Temp job. Law school by inertia. Public defender in Manhattan. A law firm she hated. Postpartum depression. A decision at her own baby shower that she would never again answer "What do you do?" with "I'm a lawyer." Then radio, media, CNN, speaking—and a TED Talk that accidentally let the 5-Second Rule slip out as an afterthought. She didn't invent the rule as a brand strategy. She invented it in 2008 to beat the snooze button when her life was falling apart: failing restaurant business, financial strain, marriage on the ropes, kids missing the bus, no confidence left in the tank. What makes this episode Summer School material is how practical it is. Mel doesn't just diagnose stuckness. She hands you a tool for the five-second windows where hesitation usually wins—and then she zooms out to the deeper question: action only matters if you know what you want. Passion, she says, is another word for energy. Follow what energizes and expands you. Master the little stuff first, or you'll never answer the big stuff. If you've ever known exactly what to do and still couldn't make yourself do it, this conversation is for you. What You'll Hear in This Episode Why Mel's whole life felt like "one gigantic mistake" she then scrambled—using anxiety—to fix How high tolerance for "suckiness" keeps us trapped until a shock finally forces change An unflinching conversation about anxiety and panic, self-monitoring, and getting help when you need it Why "you don't have to think the way you think"—and how worry becomes a habit that costs you money, health, and relationships The 5-Second Rule explained: how counting backwards interrupts habit loops and kicks the prefrontal cortex online How one decision (just getting out of bed) can change how you see yourself—and start momentum that rebuilds a life Why knowledge can be a trap if you never acquire the tools to make yourself act Listening to your gut—including Mel's decision to keep audio rights when she self-published How to define what you want by tracking what energizes vs. depletes you Why mastering the little stuff is the only path to the big stuff—and why there's enough success for everybody The 5-Second Rule (and Why It Works) Mel is blunt: the rule sounds profoundly stupid. That's why it took people a while to take it seriously. Here's the move. The moment you catch yourself hesitating, doubting, worrying, chickening out, shrinking, or shutting up—count backwards: 5-4-3-2-1. Then move. Counting backwards interrupts habit loops encoded in the more automatic parts of the brain and lights up the prefrontal cortex—the part involved in focus, courage, strategic thinking, and learning new behavior. Counting up doesn't work the same way; you can keep going forever. After one, your mind is socialized to go. She discovered it by accident trying to stop hitting snooze. Eight years later (at the time of this recording), she still used it every morning to get out of bed—and for exercise, tough conversations, client scope creep, drinking urges, tone of voice, middle-of-the-night bathroom trips, negotiations, everything. The deeper point: your life happens in five-second windows. In five seconds you can control what you think, decide what you'll do, and change something that then changes everything. And you're often one decision away from a different life—not because that one decision is magic, but because action changes how you see yourself. Get up three mornings in a row when you usually don't, and you're no longer only the person who sleeps in. You're someone who can keep a promise to yourself. That identity shift compounds. Mel's clearest line on the real problem: most people aren't missing strategy. They're missing the action push. You know how to lose the weight, grow the business, save the marriage, make the call. You can't make yourself do it. The 5-Second Rule is a starting ritual for becoming that person for yourself—your own pushy best friend. What Do You Actually Want? Tools without direction become busywork. Mel keeps returning to this: using 5-4-3-2-1 for its own sake isn't enough if you don't know what you're aligning toward. The common mistake: we fixate on some huge person, place, or thing—a unicorn future that's supposed to rescue us from our current misery. The gap between here and there makes us feel more lost. Her emerging tool (she was still researching it then): treat passion as energy. In any situation, notice within five seconds—does this person, project, or choice energize me or deplete me? Expand me or shrink me? That body wisdom is the map. Hard things can still energize you. Easy things can deplete you. Money comes second. The question is: if it depletes you, how do you move it or say no? If it energizes you, how do you do more of it? Mel noticed even her exploding speaking career started depleting her on travel mornings—while meeting people and answering emails energized her. So she recalibrated toward what expanded her. One five-second alignment at a time, working with your wiring instead of against it. Her hard truth: if you can't master the little stuff—getting up, exercising, curbing the habit, making the scary call—you will never answer the big stuff of who you are and how to listen to yourself. Achievement without fulfillment is just checking boxes forever. And once you're in your lane—energized, expanded—you have capacity to be generous. There's enough success and happiness for everybody. Cheer for other people. Stay calibrated against your own energy map when the internet keeps showing you everyone else's game. Timecodes So You Can Jump Around 00:00 – Welcome and why this episode is part of Summer School 03:27 – Mel joins; early career, inertia, and a high tolerance for suckiness 13:54 – Postpartum depression, quitting law, and making a hard decision 18:00+ – Anxiety, panic, self-monitoring, and getting help when you need it 31:37 – Introducing the 5-Second Rule 38:38 – Where Mel's life was when she invented it—and how one decision changes everything 44:15 – Ego vs. values: self-publishing, bestseller lists, and keeping audio rights 51:16 – How to define what you want (and the trap of the unicorn goal) 53:47 – Passion as energy: the deplete-vs-energize decision tool 58:35 – Master the little stuff or you'll never get the big stuff 01:00:55 – Generosity, staying in your lane, and enough success for everyone 01:04:11 – Diversity in personal development, getting attacked, and pushing through fear Why This Conversation Still Matters We are drowning in information about what to do. Strategy is everywhere. Inspiration is infinite. The bottleneck is still the same: the five seconds between knowing and doing. Anxiety culture hasn't gotten quieter since this episode aired. Comparison hasn't gotten kinder. The gap between the life you want and the inertia you're in still grows when you wait to feel ready. Mel's toolkit remains useful because it's not about becoming fearless. It's about interrupting hesitation long enough to act—and then aiming that action at what actually expands you. Feel the fear. Count backwards. Move. Check your energy. Repeat. That's why I keep returning to this one when I'm stuck. Not for a pep talk. For a push. Keep Going Deeper If this conversation resonates: The 5 Second Rule by Mel Robbins Mel online: melrobbins.com Follow Mel: Instagram | X/Twitter | Facebook | Website Questions to Reflect On Where do I already know what to do—but keep failing at the action push? What five-second hesitation keeps showing up in my work, health, or relationships? Am I waiting to feel ready before I move? Where has "acquiring knowledge" become a substitute for doing the thing? On my client list, calendar, and inner circle: what energizes me vs. depletes me? What little stuff am I avoiding that is blocking the bigger answers about who I am? Where could generosity replace scarcity—cheering for others while staying in my lane? The Core Idea You don't need a new identity overnight. You need one decision, then another, in the five-second windows where your brain tries to shrink you. Mel's invitation is brutally simple: stop waiting for motivation to arrive fully formed. Interrupt the habit. Count backwards. Move. Align with what energizes you. Build confidence from evidence, not affirmations. And remember—there's enough room for everybody. If there's one lesson worth carrying forward from this Summer School session, it's this: You're one decision away from a totally different life—and that decision can start in the next five seconds.

Hey friends, Chase here. Every summer, I revisit conversations from the archive that have stood the test of time. Not because I'm nostalgic, but because the best ideas don't expire. They deepen. This is another installment of Summer School—the set of episodes I personally return to the most when I'm stuck and need something true to lean on. This one with Ryan Holiday is high on that list. I've gone back to it multiple times this year alone. Ryan is a legend—author, media strategist, New York Times bestselling writer, and the person who brought Stoic philosophy into popular culture for a generation of creatives and entrepreneurs. This conversation is from 2017, before he'd fully hit the stride we know him for now. He'd already published something like six books in five years. He was already a force. And yet you can hear, in this episode, exactly where his work was headed. What stands out isn't just marketing tactics. It's framing. Good marketing isn't only writing good copy or taking a nice product photo. It's making work that starts a discussion. It's asking better questions before you begin. And it's using your own mindset—perception, action, will—to keep going when the creative path gets hard. Those tools were spot on then. They're truer now. Nobody cares what you're thinking about doing. Talk about your ideas after you've started them and then show people what you've done. Summer School: Ryan Holiday on Stoicism, Marketing, and Creating Work That Lasts Ryan dropped out of college at 19 to work with Robert Greene, became director of marketing at American Apparel, and later built Brass Check, advising clients like Google, Tim Ferriss, and Tony Robbins. Then he did something that looked, on paper, like career suicide: he wrote Trust Me, I'm Lying—a book about how marketers, companies, and politicians manufacture and manipulate attention online. Instead of burning his marketing career down, it opened writing as a profession. He began identifying as a writer first—keeping a hand in marketing so he wouldn't only comment from the sidelines. That tension runs through the whole episode: how information spreads, what it means to compete for attention, and how to build work that doesn't disappear after the launch week. At the center is Perennial Seller—the art of making and marketing work that lasts. Not the fidget-spinner hit. Not the trend piece. The Original Pantry Cafe that never closes. The book that sells more copies year after year because it solves a real problem. The boot that gets better the longer you wear it. If you're a creator, entrepreneur, or leader trying to make something that matters—and survive the noise long enough for it to land—this episode is still one of the sharpest in the archive. What You'll Hear in This Episode Why Ryan left New York for a cattle ranch outside Austin—and how distance, physical work, and humility made him better at the cerebral work How Trust Me, I'm Lying mapped the attention economy years before "fake news" became a daily phrase Why modern marketing is less about perfect product shots and more about starting conversations A practical crash course in Stoicism: perception, action, and will Ego vs. confidence—and how to market without marketing to yourself Austin Kleon's line: you can't be the noun without doing the verb What makes a perennial seller—and why industries obsess over "new" while most of their money comes from what lasts The "other 50%": craft gets you in the door; packaging, positioning, relationships, and community finish the race Two questions before every project: Who is this for? What does this do for them? Three Stoic Disciplines for Creatives Ryan's version of Stoicism is deliberately practical. Not academic debate—the art of living. Philosophy for the role you're already in: photographer, founder, writer, leader. He walks through three disciplines: 1. Perception How do you look at the situation? Someone is rude. Your company is in trouble. Your work isn't getting seen. Do you decide it's unfair, impossible, purely negative—or do you look for what you can actually use? The Stoics' move: there's no inherent good or bad—there's how we look at things. We don't control most of what happens to us. We do control the last crucial part: what we tell ourselves it means. Marcus Aurelius did that work through writing—Meditations as a private practice of catching your own mind in the act. 2. Action Seeing differently isn't enough. What do you do with the information? Ryan's favorite cut: Casey Neistat telling someone pitching a business idea, essentially—don't tell me the idea. Tell me when you've started it, then show me what you've made. Thinking about running a marathon doesn't count. Starting does. This is the discipline that kills the fantasy. Ideas are cheap. Execution is the only proof. 3. Will How do you handle the moments when life kicks your ass and you can't reverse them? Ryan tells the Edison story: factory on fire, son shell-shocked, Edison telling him to get his mother—she'll never see a fire like this again. Even what you can't control can still transform you. Hardship is often the filter that keeps everyone who doesn't want it as badly as you do from finishing. If it were easy, there'd be more amateurs—and less value. Perennial Seller (and the Other 50%) The face-palm insight behind Perennial Seller: the New York Times bestseller list doesn't track perennial sellers—yet a huge share of publishing income comes from books that came out years or decades ago. Industry attention chases "new." Durable value often lives elsewhere. Ryan's frame for durable work is almost annoyingly clear: This is a blank that does blank for blank. Who is it for—really? Not "everyone" or "smart people." Actual humans. Where they live. What they do. What does it do for them? His editor's line: it's not what a book is—it's what a book does. Then comes Chase's "other 50%," which Ryan amplifies: making the thing is a marathon. Finishing it doesn't mean you've won. There's a second marathon waiting—marketing, packaging, relationships, platform, the bridge from your desk into someone else's life. "If you build it, they will come" has killed a lot of great work. You're not just competing with peers who launched this week. You're competing with time-tested work that already lives on Netflix, in bookstores, in cultural memory. Title, cover, logo, copy, collaborators—these aren't afterthoughts. They're part of the creative expression. Books have covers because people judge them. Your work does too. And if you're already hunting for shortcuts before you've started? That's a signal. Principles over formulas. The shortcuts get exploited the moment they work for everyone. Timecodes So You Can Jump Around 00:00 – Welcome and why this episode is part of Summer School 04:52 – Ryan Holiday joins; life on a ranch outside Austin 09:14 – From renegade marketer to writer: Trust Me, I'm Lying and how attention spreads 15:05 – Why marketing today means starting a discussion 16:58 – Stoicism as a practical art of living 21:54 – Discipline one: perception 25:34 – Discipline two: action (start it, then show it) 28:47 – Discipline three: will (Edison's fire and transforming hardship) 31:36 – Ego vs. confidence; marketing without marketing to yourself 37:01 – Fall in love with the verb, not the noun 40:14 – Perennial Seller: the art of making work that lasts 47:08 – "This is a blank that does blank for blank" 51:07 – Habits of people who make great work (editors, collaborators, objectivity) 54:47 – The other 50%: craft plus packaging, relationships, and community 01:04:35 – Frameworks: Who is this for? What does this do? 01:19:05 – Daily Stoic, memento mori, and closing thoughts Why This Conversation Still Matters In 2017, Ryan was already describing an attention landscape where your best work competes with cats, outrage, porn, fake news, and infinite other options in the feed. That landscape didn't calm down. It accelerated. What still cuts through is the opposite of trend-chasing: work built on timeless problems, principles that survive platform changes, and the humility to keep doing the verb while everyone else celebrates the noun. When I'm stuck—when the world feels noisy and my own next project feels either too precious or too thin—I come back to this episode for the same reminders: Control how you see it. Take action. Let the hard parts transform you. Ask who it's for and what it does. Don't confuse finishing the making with finishing the work. Fall in love with the craft more than the identity. And don't wait until you feel safe to do the honest version of the thing. That's why it's Summer School material. The platforms changed. The books multiplied. The stakes got louder. The questions held. Keep Going Deeper If this conversation resonates: Perennial Seller: The Art of Making and Marketing Work That Lasts The Obstacle Is the Way Ego Is the Enemy Trust Me, I'm Lying Daily Stoic: dailystoic.com Ryan online: ryanholiday.net Follow Ryan: Website | X/Twitter | Facebook Questions to Reflect On Am I still stuck in "thinking about" the project—or have I started something I can show? Where am I treating a hard situation as a verdict, instead of as information I can act on? Am I marketing to an audience—or marketing to myself? Have I fallen in love with the noun (author, founder, photographer) more than the verb? If I had to fill in "This is a ___ that does ___ for ___," could I do it clearly—today? Where have I finished the making and abandoned the second marathon: positioning, packaging, relationships, community? Am I building on timeless problems—or on platforms and tactics that may not survive the next cycle? The Core Idea Work that lasts isn't the work that wins the news cycle. It's the work that keeps solving something real for someone specific—long after the launch adrenaline fades. Ryan's invitation in this conversation is both simple and demanding: sharpen your perception, take action before you announce, let difficulty refine you, kill the ego that wants applause without evidence, and build for durability instead of novelty. If there's one lesson worth carrying forward from this Summer School session, it's this: Make something that starts a conversation—and lasts long enough to deserve one.

Hey friends, Chase here. Every summer, I revisit conversations from the archive that have stood the test of time. Not because I'm nostalgic, but because the best ideas don't expire. They deepen. This is another installment of Summer School—episodes I return to when I'm stuck. When a pattern I've been conditioned to see suddenly needs to be broken, I go back to the people who help me think differently. This one with Ben Uyeda is near the top of that list. Ben is a designer, entrepreneur, and creative force of nature who left a successful architecture firm and an Ivy League teaching gig to bring high-design ideas to the masses through media. His designs—widely shared, often free—have reached tens of millions of people and are being built around the world. And his most recent project? A 65-room hotel on 180 acres in the California desert, adjacent to Joshua Tree National Park, built with a team but rooted in the same hands-on curiosity that started with a concrete vase on YouTube. When this episode first aired, I called it one of the most shocking conversations of the year—not because Ben tried to shock anyone, but because I didn't expect it to blow me away. It did. It still does. His superpower is orthogonal thinking. Where most of us see the world through the patterns we've been trained into, Ben keeps asking the next question—about scale, purpose, risk, money, mastery, and what creatives actually want when they say they want "more." This conversation changed how I think about career growth. I think it can change yours too. "Forget scaling. What I think is really intriguing is this idea of escalation." — Ben Uyeda Summer School: Ben Uyeda on Escalation, Purpose, and Building Bigger Without Losing Yourself Ask Ben how he describes what he does, and he keeps it almost stubbornly simple: he designs things and he makes them. Those things range from a small concrete vase to a dining table to homes—and all the way up to Reset Hotel: 65 rooms on 180 acres near Joshua Tree. The leap sounds impossible until you understand his model. Most creatives, Ben argues, get trapped in a false choice. Either you're the solo maker—writing the book, building the table, running the photo shoot—or you're the manager of something massive, taking in everyone's opinions and slowly losing contact with the craft. He thinks the more interesting path sits between them: escalate. Scaling is repeating one thing at higher volume for better margins. Escalation is using each project as practice for a bigger adventure—vase to furniture to staircase to house to hotel—with new skills, collaborators, and risk at every step. There is no clean line from designing a vase to building a hotel. But there are incremental steps. In Ben's case, roughly five years from vase to house. Another five from house to hotel. Each jump maybe 50x to 100x in scale. The next project isn't the destination. It's skill-building—and an opportunity to meet the people you'll need when the economic risk gets larger. That distinction is the heart of this episode. And if you've ever chased "scale" when what you really wanted was growth, challenge, grit, relationships, and a life that still feels like yours, this one will hit hard. What You'll Hear in This Episode How Ben describes his work—from concrete vases to a desert hotel, and why he focuses on the doing Why small creative projects feel like Zen practice—and why bigger ones require learning to pass the ball The tension every creator knows: curiosity and economic safety often feel like they're pulling in opposite directions Scaling vs. escalating—and why most creatives think they want scale when they actually want challenge, skill, and connection The paperclip-to-house Craigslist story as a model for adventurous creative careers Why nature is becoming a luxury good—and how that thesis shaped Reset Hotel Ben's multi-year process for building a point of view: observations, post-its, journaling, and knowing when you're secure enough to ask bigger questions How to borrow pattern recognition from outside your field (Ben's favorite: food) What AI changes—and what it doesn't: reputation, responsibility, and embracing creative fear instead of waiting until you feel safe The story of Reset Hotel, Industry Night for creatives, and why physical immersion may be the next horizon Scale vs. Escalate This is the idea I keep coming back to—and the one that originally made this episode unforgettable. Typical entrepreneurial advice says: find a minimum viable product, then scale. For creatives, Ben says, that model often fails. Scaling optimizes for volume, repetition, and efficiency. Escalation optimizes for adventure: trade the paperclip for the lighter, the lighter for something bigger, and keep going—not by doing the same trade forever, but by graduating the game. Chase's own lived experience lines up with Ben's: escalation built the best things in his life—relationships, skills, grit, humanity. Scaling often decoupled him from those same things. That's the trap. People hear "economic upside" and chase repetition. What many of them actually want is escalating challenge—backstory, resources, personal development, network, connection—the exact texture of a project like building a hotel with your hands, your partners, and your reputation on the line. Ben didn't know this as sage wisdom going in. He learned it. Early ambition and big swings "worked," but felt like speedrunning a video game—fast completion with a strange emptiness afterward. Over time he learned something more useful about himself: his long-range visionary chess game is limited, but his commitment and belief once he chooses a path are incredibly strong. That self-knowledge became the architecture for taking on Reset. Nature as Luxury—and How a Hotel Got Built from a Thesis Ben's confidence in the hotel didn't come from a weekend of inspiration. It came from years of noticing. One signal: between roughly 2013 and 2016, monthly active users on Instagram and visits to national parks both exploded. The attention economy was booming—and simultaneously creating unprecedented demand for its opposite: walking through Yosemite or Joshua Tree, somewhere with little or no cell service. His larger thesis: as digital consumption becomes frictionless, we start craving the analog. The more algorithmically efficient our feeds get, the more we want to throw the phone aside, touch grass, hike, watch a real sunset. Because digital experiences got so good at being artificial, nature itself starts to feel like a scarce luxury—not just a pretty view from a coastal city, but immersive emptiness, dark skies, raw land. That thesis, plus an audience built by sharing design ideas, plus collaborators from craftspeople to investors, plus a shipping-container house project that opened new conversations—those pieces compounded into Reset. Ben is blunt that this kind of vision doesn't arrive as effortless brilliance. It's multi-year. Curious. Plodding. Built from obvious observations written on post-it notes until they start to arrange themselves into a next move. His practical advice for creatives trying to think at that altitude: Don't pour all your curiosity into tools and tactics alone. Also ask the scarier questions: What's my place in this discipline? What's my place in the broader economy? Earn enough security to think. For Ben, around $100k of income was the point where economic stress dropped enough for bigger questions to enter the process—not as luxury branding, but as creative fuel. Look outside your industry. Food is his favorite lens because he has emotional distance plus deep daily connection. Farm-to-table, farmers markets becoming aspirational, celebrities posting chickens instead of Bugattis—he's watching a backlash against efficiency and mass production. Then he asks: what's the design-and-craft version of that for me? Talk it out with peers. The work is often solo. The therapy and pattern recognition are better in community—ideally in person, without a competitive chip on your shoulder. Timecodes So You Can Jump Around 00:00 – Welcome and why this episode is part of Summer School 03:55 – Ben Uyeda joins the show 05:12 – How Ben describes what he does: design things, make them, from vase to hotel 07:33 – Are you bananas? Risk, scale, and building a hotel with your bare hands 12:51 – Forget scaling: why escalation is the more interesting creative model 14:12 – From YouTube vase to 65-room hotel—and the skill (and people) built along the way 16:27 – Chase on the difference between escalating challenge and chasing scale 18:42 – Did Ben know this going in—or learn it the hard way? 21:09 – Instagram growth, national parks, and the demand for the analog 24:24 – Why nature is becoming a luxury good 27:31 – How to build a creative thesis over years (not a weekend) 39:27 – Cheat codes: borrow pattern recognition from food (and other industries) 49:00 – AI fear, reputation, responsibility, and what still can't be automated 57:30 – Reset Hotel: dark skies, building the right way, and the first new ground-up hotel in the area in 15 years 01:07:36 – Where to follow the project—and Industry Night for creatives Why This Conversation Still Matters If anything, this episode is more urgent now than when we first recorded it. The creator economy still rewards the idea that the goal is to make one thing and multiply it forever. Platforms still optimize for volume. AI is accelerating that pressure—making certain end products cheaper and more abundant, and making a lot of talented people scared. Ben's counsel isn't "don't worry." It's the opposite. Be scared. Talk to friends. Diversify your thinking. Double down on reputation and responsibility—being the person clients call because you fix problems, even when the brief is imperfect. Accept that fear doesn't vanish when you "make it." Often it gets worse, because you feel like you have more to lose. And that's the trap: postponing the wild, scary, purpose-shaped adventure until you feel safe. Safety delayed often becomes safety that never lets you move. Meanwhile, the deeper trend he named—digital ubiquity creating hunger for physical, immersive, scarce experiences—keeps compounding. Reset Hotel is that thesis made concrete. Industry Night—his informal peer-to-peer gathering for creatives—is another version of the same idea: horizontal connection in a culture that keeps selling top-down scale. Whether you escalate toward something as large as a hotel or simply toward a braver version of your next project, the question remains the same: are you chasing repetition, or are you chasing a life? Keep Going Deeper If this conversation resonates: Reset Hotel: stayreset.com · @reset.hotel Ben online: benuyeda.com · Instagram · HomeMade Modern on YouTube Earlier conversation: Escalate & Evolve: A Blueprint for Career and Life with Ben Uyeda Follow Ben: Instagram | Website | YouTube Questions to Reflect On Am I optimizing for scale (repeat one thing) or escalation (grow into bigger adventures)? What would my "next size up" project be—not 100x overnight, but one honest step beyond what I've already made? Where am I chasing economic certainty in a way that quietly starves my curiosity? What obvious cultural observation have I been noticing—and what would it mean if I took it seriously for my own work? Am I pouring all my curiosity into tools and tactics while avoiding the harder questions about my place in the economy? Where am I postponing a meaningful risk until I "feel safe"—and what might that delay really cost? In an age of AI and infinite digital content, what physical, scarce, or immersive experience could only come from me? The Core Idea Most creatives don't actually want to become a machine that repeats the same win forever. They want a life that escalates: bigger challenges, deeper skills, richer relationships, and work that still feels like craft even when the coordination gets complex. Ben's path—from free design ideas online to a modernist hotel on the edge of Joshua Tree—isn't a prescription to go build hospitality. It's a reminder that purpose compounds through projects. Each one prepares you for the next. Each one brings in the people you'll need later. And the goal isn't to arrive as fast as possible. It's to grow into someone who can hold more risk without abandoning who they are. If there's one lesson worth carrying forward from this Summer School session, it's this: Don't confuse scaling with growing. The creative life you're probably hungry for is escalation—one braver project at a time.

Hey friends, Chase here. Every summer, I revisit conversations from the archive that have stood the test of time. Not because I'm nostalgic, but because the best ideas don't expire. They deepen. This is another installment of Summer School—episodes I go back to when I'm stuck, looking for the person in my network who's already lived the answer. This one with Tony Robbins is a perfect example. I've been navigating some peak performance challenges around my physical body—joints breaking down from a life as an athlete. Tony has spent years deep in the breakthroughs happening in precision medicine and regenerative health. I originally brought him on the show to learn what was possible. I'm bringing the conversation back for Summer School because those questions matter even more now. Tony is a legend: #1 New York Times bestselling author, life and business strategist, entrepreneur, philanthropist, and peak performance expert. He's coached world-class athletes, entertainers, Fortune 500 CEOs, and U.S. presidents. He's also a friend. I've been front row at his multi-day seminars. I've used his techniques—from mental training to visualization to priming—and yes, I've walked on fire with him. But this conversation goes beyond mindset. It goes into the habits that separate people who are successful and fulfilled… and into Life Force, Tony's book on the regenerative medicine breakthroughs that can transform the quality of your life—and the lives of the people you love. "Success without fulfillment is the ultimate failure." — Tony Robbins Summer School: Tony Robbins on Peak Performance, Precision Medicine, and Transforming Your Quality of Life Tony's obsession is a simple question with a lifelong answer: what actually changes the quality of people's lives? He frames the work as pattern recognition, pattern utilization, and pattern creation—learning from the best so you don't waste 10 or 20 years figuring it out the hard way. Then standing on those shoulders long enough to create your own. That lens shows up everywhere in this episode: in habits, in health, and in mindset. After being told some of his own health challenges were irreversible, Tony experienced firsthand how regenerative technology didn't just help him heal—it made him stronger. And the bigger point he makes is that these breakthroughs aren't reserved for the ultra-wealthy. As technology doubles in power and halves in cost, access keeps expanding. Medicine isn't the whole story, though. Tony also deconstructs the patterns of top performers—because your habits and your mindset still determine whether any of it matters. What You'll Hear in This Episode Why Tony does this work—and how growing up with pain made him obsessed with helping people reclaim themselves The habits of people who are both successful and fulfilled, starting with a mission bigger than yourself Why progress equals happiness, and why comfort quietly kills growth How to prime your day on purpose: cold water, gratitude, three-to-thrive, sincere compliments, and doing the hardest thing first The personal story behind Life Force—family illness, a pituitary tumor, a torn rotator cuff, spinal stenosis, and the stem cell turning point What's changing in regenerative medicine: stem cells, gene editing, diagnostics, sleep science, and more How to use Life Force as a guidebook, not a 600-page homework assignment Why mindset still decides the outcome—including the surprising power of belief, placebos, and your "emotional home" Patterns of Peak Performance One of the most useful parts of this conversation is how concrete it gets. Identifying patterns that already work for peak performers can save years of trial and error. In this episode, three keep coming up: 1. Have a mission Have something you care about more than yourself. It could be your family, your craft, your business, your community—anything real. Tony's blunt about this: when people have something more important than themselves, they don't run out of energy or excitement. When it's only about you, comfort creeps in. And comfort is where growth dies. His one-word formula for happiness is the same one he's taught for decades: progress. If you're not making progress, you're not growing. And if you're not growing, you're not giving. Growing and giving is the game. 2. Prime with gratitude Most people assume their thoughts are simply "their thoughts." Tony's point is that your thoughts are primed by your environment—so you might as well prime yourself on purpose. His morning starts with cold water (not because he loves it, but because it trains the brain: when I say go, we go). Then a 10-minute priming practice built around gratitude, a prayer-type focus, and "three to thrive"—three outcomes he sees and feels as already done. Why gratitude? Because you can't be grateful and angry at the same time. You can't be grateful and fearful at the same time. Most people, as he puts it, have a highway to stress and a dirt road to happiness. Priming is how you reverse that wiring. He also leaves someone a sincere audio compliment each day—not generic praise, but something specific that deepens the relationship. You can learn his free priming process at tonyrobbins.com/priming. 3. Do the hardest thing first Difficult work needs your best energy. Tony's rule is simple: crush the hardest thing early, create momentum, and let everything else get easier. How you start and end your day both matter. Of the two, he says starting well may matter most—because it frames everything that follows. Timecodes So You Can Jump Around 00:00 – Welcome and why this episode is part of Summer School 04:23 – Tony Robbins joins the show 05:03 – What gets Tony up in the morning: impact, reclaiming yourself, and pattern recognition 11:37 – Habits of the most successful and fulfilled people 13:16 – Progress equals happiness; growing and giving as the game 14:44 – Priming your day: cold plunge, gratitude, three-to-thrive, hardest thing first 20:35 – Why Tony wrote Life Force—and the personal experiences behind it 22:21 – The cancer story that shifted him from victimhood to biohacking 25:20 – Pituitary tumor diagnosis, second opinions, and learning to question standard answers 28:53 – Snowboard crash, torn rotator cuff, spinal stenosis—and the stem cell turning point 31:37 – Regenerative medicine breakthroughs worth knowing 38:54 – How to approach Life Force as a guidebook 43:19 – Access and cost: why these tools aren't only for the wealthy 47:00 – Mindset, placebos, and upgrading your emotional home 52:38 – Closing thoughts Why This Conversation Still Matters It's easy to treat health, energy, and longevity as tomorrow's problem—something you'll deal with when you have more time, more money, or a clearer diagnosis. This conversation makes that delay harder to justify. Tony's point isn't that you need every breakthrough tomorrow. It's that ignorance isn't bliss. Ignorance is pain. And in the worst cases, it's preventable loss. The diagnostic tools alone—especially if you're 40 or older—can change the trajectory of a life before a crisis shows up. At the same time, he keeps bringing it back to something simpler and more immediate: how you start your day, what you care about more than yourself, and whether you're actually making progress. The regenerative medicine is extraordinary. The habits and mindset are what make any of it usable. That's why this episode earned a Summer School seat. The science has only accelerated since we first recorded it. The human part—fulfillment, discipline, belief—hasn't gotten any less essential. Keep Going Deeper If this conversation resonates: Life Force: How New Breakthroughs in Precision Medicine Can Transform the Quality of Your Life & Those You Love — Tony's guidebook to regenerative medicine, diagnostics, and the mindset that makes healing possible. (100% of profits are donated to feed people in need and fund research on Alzheimer's, cancer, and heart disease.) Free priming practice: tonyrobbins.com/priming Follow Tony: Instagram | X/Twitter | Website Questions to Reflect On What do I care about more than myself—and is that mission actually driving my days? Where have I confused success with fulfillment? Am I priming my mornings on purpose, or being primed by accident? What's the hardest thing I keep delaying—and what would change if I did it first? Am I waiting for a health crisis before I get curious about prevention, diagnostics, or recovery? Where has "I don't have access" become a story that keeps me from doing the homework? What 3–5 things could I do right now—habits, sleep, diagnostics, mindset—to raise the quality of my life and protect the people I love? The Core Idea Peak performance isn't just about grinding harder. It's about recognizing the patterns that create an extraordinary life—then using them, and eventually creating your own. Your body is part of that equation. So is your mind. So is having something you care about enough that you refuse to get comfortable. Tony's invitation is simple and demanding: don't wait until you're forced to pay attention. Learn what's available. Prime your days on purpose. Grow. Give. And don't let an old story about what's "possible for people like me" keep you from tools that could change—or even save—a life. If there's one lesson worth carrying forward from this Summer School session, it's this: Success without fulfillment is the ultimate failure—and progress, in body and mind, is still the most reliable path to both.

Hey friends, Chase here. Every summer, I revisit conversations from the archive that have stood the test of time. Not because I'm nostalgic, but because the best ideas don't expire. They deepen. This is the first installment of Summer School, a series where we're bringing back conversations that still have something important to teach us. This episode with Brené Brown was originally recorded more than a decade ago, shortly after Daring Greatly was published. A lot has changed since then. The platforms have changed. The technology has changed. The creative landscape has changed. But one thing hasn't. If you want to make meaningful work, build something that matters, or live a creative life, you'll eventually have to face criticism, self-doubt, and the fear of being seen. That's why I keep coming back to this conversation. Brené's research reminds us that creativity and vulnerability are inseparable. You can't create something original while trying to protect yourself from judgment. You can't innovate without uncertainty. And you can't live wholeheartedly if you're constantly waiting for permission. Twelve years later, this conversation feels just as relevant—maybe even more so. Summer School: Brené Brown on Vulnerability, Creativity, and the Courage to Be Seen One of the reasons this conversation has endured is because it addresses something every creator wrestles with: how to keep showing up when criticism feels inevitable. Brené explains why vulnerability isn't weakness—it's the birthplace of creativity, innovation, trust, and meaningful connection. The people creating remarkable work aren't fearless. They're simply willing to enter the arena despite the uncertainty. Whether you're an artist, entrepreneur, leader, or simply trying to live more authentically, these lessons remain timeless. What You'll Hear in This Episode Why vulnerability is the foundation of creativity, not the enemy of it How fear of criticism keeps us from doing our best work What Theodore Roosevelt's "Man in the Arena" speech teaches creators today Why belonging begins with belonging to yourself How perfectionism masquerades as self-protection The difference between courage and fearlessness Practical ways to create even when you're uncertain Why this conversation remains as relevant today as when it was first recorded Timecodes So You Can Jump Around 00:00 – Welcome to Summer School and why this conversation is worth revisiting 06:30 – Brené on vulnerability and why it's misunderstood 18:00 – Creativity, innovation, and the courage to be seen 32:00 – The cost of perfectionism and people-pleasing 46:00 – Theodore Roosevelt's "Man in the Arena" and dealing with criticism 59:00 – Shame, resilience, and wholehearted living 73:00 – Audience Q&A 87:00 – Final thoughts and key takeaways Why This Conversation Still Matters It's remarkable how much of this conversation feels like it could have been recorded today. We're living in a world where sharing your work has never been easier—and where criticism has never traveled faster. The temptation is to wait until you're completely ready before putting yourself out there. But as Brené reminds us, waiting for certainty is often another form of hiding. The people who make meaningful work aren't the ones who eliminate vulnerability. They're the ones who learn to create alongside it. That's as true today as it was twelve years ago. Keep Exploring Brené's Work If this conversation resonates, we've been fortunate to continue exploring these ideas with Brené over the years. You might also enjoy: Daring Greatly: Unlock Your Creativity with Brené Brown Brené Brown's Rules for Overcoming Criticism and Getting in the Arena Brené Brown Revisited: The Courage to Belong in a Divided World Brené Brown: The Quest for True Belonging Questions to Reflect On Where am I holding back because I'm afraid of criticism? What would I create if I stopped waiting to feel ready? Where has perfectionism become a substitute for courage? Whose opinions have I given too much power over my creative life? What would stepping into the arena look like this week? The Core Idea The greatest creative breakthroughs don't happen after fear disappears. They happen when we're willing to create despite it. That's why this conversation continues to resonate more than a decade later. The tools have changed. The platforms have changed. But courage, vulnerability, and authentic creative expression remain timeless. If there's one lesson worth carrying forward from this Summer School session, it's this: The work that changes your life—and perhaps someone else's—is almost always waiting on the other side of vulnerability.

Hey friends, Chase here We are living in a moment where perfect is cheaper than ever. A few words into a prompt can generate an image. A template can make your brand look polished. A filter can smooth the rough edges. An AI tool can help you produce something slick, flattering, and technically impressive in seconds. On the surface, that sounds like creative abundance. But there is a catch. When everything can be perfected, perfect starts to feel invisible. That is the tension at the heart of this episode. In a world flooded with polish, your imperfections are not the liability. They are the signal. They are the thing that makes your work feel alive. They are the fingerprints that remind people there is a human being on the other side. Whether we are talking about your writing, your art, your business, your personal brand, or the way you show up in conversation, authenticity is becoming more scarce. And because it is more scarce, it is becoming more valuable. This is not an excuse to make sloppy work. It is not a call to be careless. It is not a suggestion that everything needs to be grungy, lo-fi, or deliberately rough. The point is much more useful than that: the future does not belong to the most polished version of everybody else. It belongs to the thing only you can make. That is why your imperfection is the advantage. Perfect Is Boring Because Perfect Is Predictable There is a reason perfect things often slide right past us. It is not just taste. It is biology. Our brains are wired to ignore consistent patterns and fixate on disruptions. We notice the thing that breaks the pattern. The one blade of grass that moves. The tiny irregularity. The detail that does not quite fit. Evolutionarily, that mattered because the disruption might have been danger. Creatively, it still matters because disruption is what catches attention. That is why a too-perfect image can feel dead. It is why stock photography often feels generic. It is why so much AI-generated visual work can feel like slop even when it is technically "good." It is predictable. It has been averaged into smoothness. It has no meaningful edge. And when everything around us starts to look polished, polished stops being special. The creative opportunity now is not to chase a cleaner version of sameness. It is to understand the specific ways your work can break the pattern. The weirdness. The humanity. The point of view. The taste. The slight asymmetry that could only come from you. Imperfection Has Always Been Part of What We Love Most of the things we love in art are not perfect. They are human. Think about the warmth of music played on vinyl. The light leaks from an old camera. Film grain. Paper texture. VHS distortion. A hand-drawn line that is not perfectly straight. A stage performance that leans on raw emotion. The detail that feels a little unpredictable, a little alive, a little impossible to manufacture cleanly. Those are not defects. They are part of the experience. That is the beauty of being you. You cannot be perfect. It is impossible. Even when you try, something human slips through. Your taste. Your timing. Your awkwardness. Your humor. Your obsession. Your point of view. Your hand drawn line that is beautifully off by just a bit. In a world of homogeneity, you being you is an act of rebellion. That is not a cute phrase. It is a real creative strategy. If everyone has access to the same tools, the same prompts, the same templates, and the same visual trends, the thing that separates your work is not the tool. It is the person using it. The Question Is No Longer "Can You Create?" There was a time when the bar was simply whether you could make the thing. Could you shoot the photo? Could you write the essay? Could you record the video? Could you build the product? Could you design the page? Now the bar is changing. The more creation becomes automated, the more valuable it becomes to make something only you could create. Not something flattering. Not something frictionless. Not something that looks like it belongs in the same feed as everything else. Something that carries your signature. This is why authenticity is becoming scarce. It is also why people are hungry for creator content that feels real. When every surface can be perfected, imperfection becomes a signal. It tells the audience that there is a person here. A voice here. A perspective here. A set of fingerprints here. And as AI gets better at creating any aesthetic you like, including artificial imperfection that presents as authentic, the focus shifts again. It becomes less about what is being said and more about who is saying it. That is the big takeaway: you matter now more than ever before. Deliberate Imperfection Is a Creative Tool This does not mean you should pursue slop. That distinction matters. The point is not to make careless work and call it authentic. The point is to understand what kind of imperfection belongs to you and then master it as deliberately as you would master any other creative tool. Maybe you love film grain. Go deep. Maybe you love JPEG compression and the artifacts it creates. Study it. Maybe you are drawn to hand-drawn lines, VHS distortion, paper textures, strange dialogue, raw performance, awkward honesty, or a niche visual language that does not make sense to everyone. Follow that thread. The goal is not to be rough for the sake of being rough. The goal is to channel the specific chaos, taste, and humanity you are drawn to in a way that becomes unmistakably yours. If your aesthetic is polished, great. Double down. Triple down. Ten X on that. Just make sure the polish is based on you, not on a generic idea of what polish is supposed to look like. Your work does not have to be messy to be authentic. It has to be yours. What You'll Hear in This Episode This is a short episode, but the message is direct: perfect is no longer the advantage. In a world where everything can be smoothed, generated, and optimized, the edge belongs to the work that feels human. Why too polished, too proper, and too slick are losing power in creativity, branding, and personal connection Why authenticity is becoming more scarce, and therefore more valuable Why the shift toward imperfection is showing up in popular culture and even inside the platforms that helped create the polished-feed era Why perfect anything becomes boring when it is predictable How human biology makes us notice disruption instead of consistent patterns Why stock photography and AI slop often feel forgettable, even when they are technically polished Why deliberate imperfection is a creative mandate, not a lack of craft How film grain, light leaks, vinyl warmth, and raw performance reveal what we actually respond to Why being yourself is an act of rebellion in a world of homogeneity Why your awkward, quirky, unapologetic creativity may be exactly what your audience wants Timecodes So You Can Jump to What You Need If you're not listening straight through, here are a few landmarks to help you find the part that speaks to where you are right now: 00:00 – A note about my weekly email and where I put my time and attention each week 01:50 – Welcome to the micro show and why too polished, too proper, and too slick are dead 02:20 – Why authenticity is more scarce and more valuable than ever 02:43 – Why the alarm bell is ringing now and how this idea is filtering through popular culture 03:07 – The Instagram CEO's point about authenticity, creator content, and imperfection as a signal 04:03 – What this means for anyone banking on a perfect, all too polished aesthetic 04:26 – Why perfect anything is boring, and why this is rooted in human biology 04:48 – How our brains notice disruptions in patterns rather than the patterns themselves 05:13 – Why stock photography and AI slop feel predictable and forgettable 05:45 – The mandate to master your own deliberate imperfection 06:07 – Why so many things we love in art are imperfect, from vinyl warmth to film grain 06:31 – Why the beauty of being you is that you cannot be perfect 06:51 – Why being yourself is an act of rebellion in a world of homogeneity 07:11 – Why the focus will shift from what is being said to who is saying it 07:38 – Why now is an amazing time for your work to stand out in an authentic niche 07:58 – How to go deep on the imperfections and textures you are drawn to 08:35 – Why this is not permission to pursue slop or force a grungy aesthetic 08:55 – Why you are the imperfect, beautiful element in the next chapter of creativity 09:26 – A thank you for listening, sharing, and growing together Read This If Your Work Feels Too Imperfect If you have been waiting until your work looks more polished before you share it, pay attention to that instinct. There is nothing wrong with craft. There is nothing wrong with quality. There is nothing wrong with caring deeply about the details. But the pursuit of polish can become a hiding place when it turns into a way to remove yourself from the work. Sometimes we sand down the exact thing that would have made the work connect. We remove the weird sentence. We smooth the rough edge. We choose the safer visual. We make the thing look more like what we think it is supposed to look like and less like something only we could have made. That is the trap. Your audience does not need you to become a cleaner copy of the internet. They need the part of you that has taste. They need the part of you that notices what other people miss. They need the part of you that is awkward, specific, playful, obsessive, and unapologetic. That does not mean you publish work you do not care about. It means you stop confusing sameness with excellence. Stop Treating Polish Like Proof Polish can be useful, but polish is not proof of meaning. A thing can be polished and empty. It can be clean and forgettable. It can be technically impressive and still feel like nobody was home when it was made. That is the danger of building everything around surface. The deeper question is whether the work carries a point of view. Can people feel the person behind it? Can they sense a choice? Can they tell that the texture, tone, rhythm, humor, awkwardness, restraint, mess, or precision came from someone specific? Can they tell that the thing was made from taste rather than simply assembled from trends? That is where the advantage lives. Because as the tools get easier, taste matters more. As production gets faster, point of view matters more. As the internet fills with frictionless output, the strange and unmistakable human element matters more. A Simple Practice for Finding Your Deliberate Imperfection Start by noticing what you are already drawn to. What textures do you love? What details do you keep saving, collecting, or returning to? What kinds of images, sentences, sounds, performances, conversations, or objects feel alive to you? Where do you feel a little spark of recognition? Then ask why. Maybe it is the grain. Maybe it is the pacing. Maybe it is the awkward pause. Maybe it is the rawness. Maybe it is the restraint. Maybe it is the way something feels handmade, overheard, imperfect, or emotionally unvarnished. Whatever it is, do not dismiss it as random. Your taste is data. Once you see the pattern, go deeper. Master it. Study the nuance. Learn how to use it on purpose. Turn the thing you thought was a flaw into a language. The goal is not to manufacture authenticity. The goal is to stop editing out the parts of your work that already carry it. Don't Be Generic in a World That Rewards the Unmistakable Generic work has never been easier to make. That is not an insult. It is just the reality of the tools we now have. Anyone can make something that looks good enough. Anyone can generate a flattering image. Anyone can produce a polished surface. But not everyone can make something that carries the weight of a lived point of view. That is your opening. Your niche can be playful. It can be esoteric. It can be polished. It can be raw. It can be quiet. It can be strange. It can be rooted in film grain, hand-drawn lines, paper textures, compression artifacts, dialogue, performance, or any other creative language that pulls you in. What matters is that it is based on you. Because there is a world of fans, friends, and customers who are not waiting for another generic version of what already exists. They are waiting for something with fingerprints. Something awkward, quirky, and unapologetic. Something that feels real. Questions to Ask Yourself Where am I making my work more polished but less personal? What rough edge am I tempted to remove that might actually be part of the signal? What do I love in other people's work because it feels imperfect, raw, or human? What kind of imperfection am I naturally drawn to? Where has my pursuit of polish become a hiding place? What could I master as a deliberate creative tool instead of treating it like a flaw? What part of my taste feels too niche, too weird, or too specific? What would make this work feel more unmistakably mine? Am I chasing excellence, or am I chasing sameness? What can I make that only I could make? The Core Idea Your imperfection is the advantage. Not because craft does not matter. Not because sloppy work is suddenly good. Not because every aesthetic needs to become rough, grungy, or lo-fi. Your imperfection is the advantage because it is evidence of a human being. It is the signal inside a culture drowning in polish. Perfect is cheap to produce and boring to consume when it becomes predictable. What people want now is work that feels real. Work with taste. Work with fingerprints. Work that carries the strange, specific, beautiful mark of the person who made it. So stop trying to sand yourself out of the work. Pick the textures, rhythms, ideas, edges, and obsessions that are yours. Go deep. Master them. Channel the chaos. Make something beyond the algorithm's training data. Make something that only you could make. Until next time: trust your taste, master your deliberate imperfection, and let the human part of the work lead.

Hey friends, Chase here Jeff Boyd is on the show today, and this conversation is about building the kind of life and business that does not always look like the predominant story on the internet. Jeff is the founder and chairman of MTE, More Than Energy, which he describes in this episode as "an energy that loves you back." Before that, he spent 15 years as the President and co-owner of Luggage Free, where he expanded global operations to more than 100 countries before selling the company in 2019. What I loved about this conversation is that it is not the usual story about chasing the next app, raising venture capital, or building something because the internet told you that is what entrepreneurship is supposed to look like. This is a conversation about physical products, unsexy businesses, competition, fatherhood, leadership, and what it means to keep choosing hard things on purpose. Jeff says it plainly right at the top: "That's why I tell my team all the time. They just look at me and I'm like, if it were easy, everybody be doing it. We got to do what nobody else is willing to do, and then you're going to be happy we did it. And I tell them that I'm like, oh yeah, this is hard. And I'm excited about it. Because now that's an opportunity for us because we'll outwork anybody." That idea is at the center of this episode. We talk about the grind of building something real, why curiosity matters more than credentials, what sports teach us about business, why leadership is not about personality type, and how the best things in life often come down to loving the process instead of obsessing over the outcome. Why This Conversation Matters Right Now Most of the entrepreneurs and creators we see online are building in public, building digitally, or building something that looks like the current version of what the internet rewards. There is nothing wrong with that, but it is not the only path. In this episode, I say: "A lot of folks I know in the audience feel a pressure to make their businesses walk and talk and look like the creators and the entrepreneurs that see out there in the world, which is one of the reasons I want to start celebrating some people who are building really successful lives, careers." That is why I wanted to have Jeff on the show. He built and sold a shipping business. Now he is building a physical product in the health and wellness space. He is not chasing the obvious thing. He is not trying to make his work look like everyone else's. Jeff's path is a reminder that there is a whole world of entrepreneurship outside the digital-first story. There are products, services, local businesses, physical goods, retail shelves, manufacturing problems, customer conversations, teams, families, and real-life constraints. And sometimes, that is where the opportunity is. What We Explore in This Episode Jeff's early business story and how he became employee one at a shipping company before helping grow it around the world. The "answer is yes" mindset that helped Luggage Free expand into all 50 states and more than 100 countries. Why physical products are different and what changes when you are building with atoms instead of bits. The origin of MTE and why Jeff wanted to build "an energy that loves you back." What it means to enjoy the grind when the work is hard, relentless, and full of problems you do not know how to solve yet. Fatherhood, presence, and time and why Jeff says he is "so all in now" with his family. Competition, sport, and business and why Jeff still trains and competes as a long jumper. Leadership and authenticity and why Jeff says people do what you do, not what you say you do. Second and third career arcs and what Jeff has learned about zooming out, building teams, and letting people play the right roles. The Core Idea: If It Were Easy, Everybody Would Be Doing It One of the strongest threads in this conversation is Jeff's relationship with hard things. He is not pretending the grind is glamorous. He says straight up that building physical products, selling through retail, and getting people to care is hard. But he also sees that difficulty as part of the opportunity. "You know I some of this stuff I think the harder it is, the better for me. For sure. You want, you want to bear. People are going to be like, oh, I don't have the guts to do this. That's right. Yeah. And then the ones that do, that's a that's another level, right? That's another fence they cleared. But then it's like, okay, well now you did that. But are you ready to grind now because it's a grind." That is the mindset that shows up again and again in the episode. The point is not that everything should be hard for the sake of being hard. The point is that difficulty can reveal where other people quit. That is true in sport. It is true in business. It is true in building a family, a product, a brand, a company, or a body of work. The Answer Is Yes Jeff's first major business story starts with Luggage Free. At the beginning, the company was taking orders by hand and trying to get the phone to ring. Then the first real call came in. "Anyway, so we're trying to get the phone to ring so we can handwrite our orders. And the first call, the guy, you know, we're all. It was kind of like a movie. We're all like, you know, hushed around him, waiting, you know, hearing him, he's like, oh, I'm sorry, we don't serve. North Carolina hangs up. And we were like, oh, dude, Gary, of course you serve anybody." That moment became a kind of operating philosophy: "And I was like, from now on, the answer is yes. Like whatever anybody says answered yes. And with that really that charge? Yeah. We were quickly in all 50 states and we grew to 109 countries throughout the world. And it was always in response to a call." There is something powerful in that. Not because saying yes is always the right answer, but because early in a business, the market often tells you where to go before your strategy deck does. Someone calls. Someone asks. Someone has a need. Someone gives you a clue. The question is whether you are willing to follow it. Building Something You Can Hold After selling Luggage Free in 2019, Jeff had time and space. He was not rushing into the next thing. He was riding his bike, playing tennis, spending time with his family, and looking for what might call him next. What called him was not another service business. It was a physical product. "And so in 19 sold it 2019, 2019 were operating all over the world, offices all over and sold it and was kind of free to at that point, I was like, all right, I want to like what I loved about it was the challenge and the fun and the competition. Right. You're building, you're competing." He continues: "But I what I yearn for was a product and something that was tangible I could actually hold right and do a different scent or a different flavor or different size or different color, whatever." That desire eventually became MTE. Jeff had been trying to solve his own energy problem, stacking supplements, chasing better mood, better energy, and better performance, until he realized the pieces were not working together. "And I realized I was like, Frankenstein. I mean, like, we were talking about it last night, like piling all these supplements together to try and make yourself feel better, even even like ten supplements, which doesn't sound that bad. Shit. Crazy. Yeah. We'll be like a suitcase full when you're traveling, you know?" MTE came from that search. "So we built it's an energy that loves you back. Right. Like an energy drink that loves you back. Yeah. Right. So you get prebiotics and caffeine free blend. That's better than caffeine. Yeah. So now you're getting energy that feels great that you can trust. Sure. And no jitters, no crash, no impact on sleep." Curiosity, Thrill, and Figuring It Out One of my favorite parts of this conversation is when Jeff talks about starting something in a category where he did not have obvious experience. He had not built beverage brands before. He was not a chemist. He was stepping into a new world. His answer was not fear. It was curiosity. "Yeah. Like, I like hair on fire. Like, let's go figure this out." Then he gets to the larger point: "I like it's curiosity and thrill. And that's what it boils down to. Right. Like, I think you you like that's what entrepreneurship is. It's solving problems and and finding solutions to things. Even if you've done it 20 times, they're going to be solutions that need to be had in the evolving world and landscape in which we operate." That is entrepreneurship in a sentence. You do not get to know everything before you begin. You do not get a guarantee that the answer is obvious. You get a problem, a question, a changing landscape, and the chance to learn fast enough to keep moving. Jeff says: "But that's why I love it. I think if, if we boil it down, I love the curiosity that that is necessary to just because you're like, I don't know the answer to that. Instead of that overwhelming me or said of panicking, I'm going to go learn because I'm sure there's more than one answer. We'll figure out. Maybe we'll triangulate, figure it out. Yeah, get to a solution. And and then we'll know for next time. And then we'll be able to iterate and make it better. And on it go. Like I love that process." You Have to Love the Process The conversation moves from business into fatherhood, sport, and the shape of a life. Again and again, we come back to process. Jeff says it directly: "Yeah. You have to love the process, right? And I think that's true of anything, particularly in stuff like that where it's easy to focus on the outcome. I'm lose 20 pounds, I'm going to whatever it is, I'm going to get this promotion, you know. And then I think what happens is then the outcome just naturally happens because you love the process." This applies to entrepreneurship, training, parenting, leadership, and creative work. If you are only trying to reach the finish line, you miss the life that happens while you are getting there. Jeff connects that idea to family: "Like the time is fleeting, right? For whatever it is. And you really have to enjoy the journey because, you know, like, I look at things like, if it's a line that's made up of just millions and millions of dots, and those dots would represent any given period in time." He continues: "Right. College graduation, high school graduation. They get married like whenever it is. You've decided that they've you've set them free. The that point will just be one of hundreds of millions of points that made up the line. Yeah. So, you know, looking and it's kind of the same with like a business, right. Like if you're just all you want to do is sell the business, you're just focused on that. You're going to miss all these hundreds of millions of, of experiences or anything else, right?" Competition Brings Out the Best in People Jeff is still a competitive long jumper. He talks about master's track, world records, regional meets, and the way competition gives him purpose. That competitive lens shows up in business too. "I love it, I love it, I think I think I love to compete. Like I was just telling my buddy the other day, like, I don't like when he's fine, but I hate losing, which is weird, right?" Then he goes deeper: "So I just love the competition, and I love the process that goes into it. And having, you know, so being able to have a purpose and go in and compete and I love competing. Sure. I just think it brings out the best in people." For Jeff, sport is one vehicle for competition, but not the only one. Business is another. "Sports is just a vehicle to compete. Right. So is it the competition like because it brings the best out in you or why do you like it. Yeah, I think I think just that it's the vehicle for sports. Sure. So I like it as an umbrella. I love it in the business." He talks about the shipping company in that same frame: "Like even the shipping company I had towards the end, I was I didn't have a lot of passion for it, but I had, you know, a very competitive space and there were upstarts in the industry and you're like, all right, well, these guys are trying to take my lunch money, you know, like, right. Not on my watch." Leadership Means Leading From the Front When I ask Jeff what is required of leadership, his answer is simple: "Got to lead from the front, I think. Right. I mean, yeah, it's people do what you do, not what you say you do." He adds: "I think you need to be genuine too. Yeah. Right. Like, if you're, if you're genuine and authentic, I think people are more prone to get in line and buy in and say, I'm, I'm, I'm subscribing to what? You're where you're leading me again." That is an important distinction. Leadership is not just having followers. It is not having the loudest voice in the room. It is not projecting certainty at all times. It is what people see you do. It is the consistency between your words and your behavior. It is whether the people around you believe that the thing you are asking from them is something you are willing to model yourself. Nobody Does It Alone Later in the conversation, Jeff talks about what he has learned in this newer chapter of his life and career. One lesson is the importance of zooming out. Another is the myth of the lone genius. "And then the other thing I've learned is you like, nobody does it alone. Right? I mean, that's like total myth. Yeah. The myth of the lone wolf. The lone genius. Yeah. It's, you know, you need a you need a whole group of people that are going to bring ideas that you would have never thought of. They're going to execute your ideas that you do have." He continues: "Right? They're going to they're just they're going to champion for you in ways that you never even knew needed to be championed. You know, I mean, all the things you need a you need a great team and you need to find." That is a hard-earned lesson for builders. The bigger the thing you are trying to create, the less likely it is that you can muscle your way through alone. You need ideas you would not have had. You need people who can execute. You need people who can challenge you, support you, and help you see what you are missing. Role Players Matter One of the most useful leadership ideas in this episode is Jeff's realization that not everyone on a team has to be an all-star. "And the other thing I talk about all the time is it's you have to resist the urge to demand that everybody in your team is an all star, right? Like even the greatest sports teams have role players, and they have guys that sit on the bench to get the starters ready for the playoffs." He explains what he learned: "But they don't, you know, they're they're effectively benchwarmers. But they have a role in the team. And you have a trainer and you have a coach and assistant coaches and all. You know, it's it's the whole organization." That perspective changed the way he thought about people and teams: "That was difficult for me earlier on. I, I just felt like everybody had to be an all star. If you're not at all star, you're you're like, I'm failing you or you're failing me. And either way, you got to go. You know, we're going to get somebody else in here." The lesson is not to lower standards. It is to understand roles. Great teams are not built by pretending everyone is supposed to contribute in the same way. About Jeff Boyd Jeff Boyd is the founder and chairman of MTE (More Than Energy), colloquially known as 'energy that loves you back'. MTE has prebiotics and a caffeine-free blend that functions better than caffeine, giving users feel good energy they can trust, with no spike, no crash, and no impact on sleep. Prior to founding MTE, Jeff spent 15 years as the President and co-owner of Luggage Free where he expanded global operations to over 100 countries before selling the company in 2019. In his free time, Jeff is a notorious oenophile, cyclist and long jumper. If he's not on the bike, on the track, or in the cellar, he enjoys traveling the world with his wife and two children. www.getmte.com Instagram YouTube Timecodes 00:00 – Jeff on why hard things create opportunity 02:06 – Chase welcomes Jeff to the show in Seattle 02:21 – Why this episode is different from the usual digital-first entrepreneurship conversation 05:21 – Jeff begins the story of becoming employee one at a shipping company 07:35 – "From now on, the answer is yes" 09:21 – Selling the company in 2019 and wanting to build a product 10:31 – Jeff starts getting the itch to build something new 15:40 – Why building a physical product is not a get-rich-quick scheme 17:57 – Jeff explains MTE: "an energy that loves you back" 22:35 – Starting in a category where you do not have all the experience 23:59 – Curiosity, thrill, and solving problems as entrepreneurship 28:01 – Fatherhood and being "born to be a dad" 31:12 – Why Jeff is "so all in now" with his family 33:16 – Time, family, business, and "millions and millions of dots" 36:18 – Why you have to love the process 38:15 – Attitude, winning, and sports psychology 39:23 – Jeff on still competing in long jump 42:00 – Why Jeff loves competition 46:33 – Leadership, authenticity, and leading from the front 50:45 – Zooming out and finding your North Star 51:47 – Why nobody does it alone 52:05 – Building teams with role players, not only all-stars 58:37 – "When people show you who they are, believe them" 01:03:14 – MTE cans, flavor work, and mango pineapple 01:05:08 – The Reggie Watts collaboration 01:09:20 – Why the harder path can be better 01:12:15 – Retail as the next frontier 01:17:03 – Jeff's three-pillar vision for MTE 01:17:45 – Ingredients, paraxanthine, prebiotics, and clean energy Questions to Ask Yourself If you want to turn this episode into action, take a few minutes with these questions: Where am I making my business or creative life look like someone else's version of success? What is the "non sexy" opportunity I might be overlooking because it does not look cool online? Where could "the answer is yes" help me learn faster? What hard thing am I avoiding that might actually be the opportunity? What problem do I not know how to solve yet, and who could help me triangulate an answer? Where am I too focused on the outcome and missing the process? What part of my life is made up of "millions and millions of dots" that I need to appreciate now? Am I leading from the front, or only telling people what I value? Where am I expecting everyone to be an all-star instead of building a real team? What would it look like to zoom out and find the North Star again? A Simple Practice for Builders Here's something practical you can do this week. Pick one hard thing in your work or life that you have been treating as a sign to stop. It might be a distribution problem, a hiring problem, a creative problem, a sales problem, a health problem, or a relationship problem. Then sit with Jeff's line: "Oh yeah, this is hard. And I'm excited about it." Do not use that line to pretend the hard thing is easy. Use it to reframe what the hard thing might be showing you. It may be pointing to the part where other people quit. It may be pointing to the skill you need to build next. It may be pointing to the person you need to ask, the rep you need to take, or the process you need to fall in love with again. The work is not always to find an easier road. Sometimes the work is to become the kind of person who can walk the hard one with more purpose. Final Thought This episode is a reminder that business is not only about scale, speed, funding, or hype. It is also about curiosity, grit, family, physical products, role players, clean energy, long jumps, retail shelves, hard conversations, and the willingness to keep learning when you do not already know the answer. Jeff's story is not about avoiding the grind. It is about choosing the right grind. It is about building something thoughtfully, leading from the front, and staying close enough to the process that the outcome has room to take care of itself. Until next time: do what nobody else is willing to do, and love the process enough to keep going.

Hey friends, Chase here There is a particular kind of silence that can change the direction of a life. Not the peaceful kind. Not the silence you seek out when you need space to think. I mean the silence that lands in the room right after you say something true. The silence after you tell people what you really want. The silence after you say, out loud, that you are thinking about leaving the safe path and choosing the one that actually feels like yours. I remember that silence very clearly. I remember the day I told my family I was going to leave the path everyone expected for me and become a photographer. This was not me announcing a hobby. It was not a side project. It was not some casual thing I thought might be fun to explore. I was saying, in effect, this is what I feel compelled to do. This is the direction I have to chase. And the room got quiet. My parents were not against it, and I want to be clear about that. But I could feel the worry. I could feel the polite smiles and the nods that were probably covering up a very natural concern. I was worried too. I knew it was scary. I knew I might embarrass myself. I knew I might blow up my financial security, fail publicly, and end up crawling back to a "real job." That fear was real. But that moment stuck with me because it mattered. It still matters. Because so much of what keeps us from the life we want is not the actual failure. It is the fear of being seen before we know how the story ends. It is that quiet pause after we name the dream. That is what this episode is about. Betting on yourself, not because there is no fear, but because fear cannot be the thing that gets to design your life. The Moment After You Say the Thing There are obvious forms of resistance in life. Someone tells you no. A door closes. A plan falls apart. A check does not clear. Those things are hard, but at least they are clear. What I am talking about here is more subtle. It is the tiny moment after you reveal what you want and the people around you do not immediately understand. That moment can feel like a verdict, even when it is not. Somebody pauses, and suddenly you start filling in the blanks. Maybe they think I am crazy. Maybe they are disappointed. Maybe this dream is irresponsible. Maybe I should have kept it to myself. And before anything has actually happened, the fear begins doing its work. I have come to believe that this is one of the places where a lot of people stop. Not because someone actively shut them down, but because the silence felt too uncomfortable. If everyone cheered immediately, maybe they would keep going. If everyone criticized them loudly, maybe they would have something to push against. But the silence is different. It creates space for doubt, and doubt can be incredibly persuasive when the dream is still fragile. So if you are somewhere in your life right now wondering whether it is too late, whether you missed the window, whether you are allowed to want something different, I want you to pay attention to that. Especially if you cannot honestly say that you are 100% going after your dreams. This one is for you. Playing It Safe Is Usually Fear in Disguise Most of us do not say, "I am afraid, so I am not going to do the thing." We use better language than that. We say we are being practical. We say we are being responsible. We say we are waiting for the right time, the right plan, the right amount of money, the right amount of certainty. And sometimes those are legitimate considerations. I am not here to tell you to be reckless. But I am here to say that playing it safe is often fear wearing a very respectable outfit. Fear has a job. It is optimized for survival. That is useful when you are in actual danger. But fear is not optimized for creativity. It is not optimized for happiness, joy, connection, harmony, fulfillment, or the gifts you have to give and receive in this life. Fear wants to keep you alive. It does not care if you feel fully expressed. That matters because if you let fear make all your decisions, you may end up safe, but you will also end up smaller than you were meant to be. You will build a life around avoiding discomfort rather than moving toward aliveness. And the best stuff in life is usually just on the other side of the comfort zone you are coddling. By the way, craving comfort is natural. Of course it is. We all want security. We all want belonging. We all want the people we love to understand our choices. But comfort cannot be the only thing we optimize for. At some point, the question becomes: am I protecting my life, or am I hiding from it? The World Will Keep Throwing Curveballs If you are going for it, the world is going to throw you curveballs. That is part of the deal. Not because the world is against you, but because challenge is how you grow. The world cannot really give you anything. It can only challenge you until you become stronger. And when you get stronger, the hard things do not magically become easy. They become easier. That distinction matters. I am not promising a frictionless life. I am not saying the fear disappears or that the path suddenly becomes smooth. I am saying that you become more capable. You become more practiced. You learn how to meet the pitch that used to scare you. What I do not want is for you to quit. I do not want you to take your bat and go home. I do not want the first or fifth or fiftieth curveball to become the reason you stop playing the game you actually came here to play. Whether you meet those challenges as punishment or as part of a playful game of discovery is up to you. But either way, the challenges are coming. The invitation is to stay in the game long enough to find out who you become when you stop retreating every time it gets uncomfortable. Your Weaknesses Might Be Invitations There is something I wish more people said plainly: your weaknesses can be blessings. Not because weakness feels good. Not because fear is fun. Not because we need to romanticize struggle or pretend that everything difficult is automatically noble. But because the places where you feel weak are often the places where you are being invited to grow. That fear you feel right now does not necessarily mean you are doing the wrong thing. It may mean you are standing at the edge of something important. Courage is not the absence of fear. Courage is having fear and doing it anyway. This is easy to forget after years of teaching ourselves to avoid friction. Years of performing the version of ourselves that other people understand. Years of telling ourselves stories about what is realistic, acceptable, responsible, or too late. Over time, you can lose track of what you actually want. You can get so good at managing other people's expectations that you forget to ask whether the life you are maintaining is the life you want to be living. But the desire does not disappear just because you ignore it. It waits. It keeps tapping. It shows up in restlessness, envy, curiosity, frustration, and that persistent feeling that there is something more honest available to you. The Opposite of Playing It Safe Is Freedom The opposite of playing it safe is not reckless risk. That is not the message. This is not about blowing up your life just to prove you are brave. It is not about risk without measure. The opposite of playing it safe is freedom. Freedom is creating the ultimate game of life and then deciding that you are actually going to play. It is betting on yourself with your eyes open. It is taking calculated risks in the direction of what is true for you. It is refusing to let fear be the only voice in the room. That is why I keep showing up. Every week I write an email, create posts, record this show, and share work online because, in a very real way, I am betting on you. I am betting that you will see this work for what it is: a belief that you can activate. You can take calculated risks. You can get to work on your truest dreams. And more than anything, I want you to join me in that bet. What You'll Hear in This Episode This is a short episode, but the message is direct. If you have been waiting for permission, certainty, or universal understanding before you move toward the life you want, this is your reminder that fear does not get the final vote. Why the silence after you share your dream can feel so powerful, and why it keeps many people from taking action The story of telling my family I was leaving the expected path to pursue photography as a career Why playing it safe is often about fear, even when we call it responsibility Why fear is optimized for survival, not creativity, joy, connection, or fulfillment Why the comfort zone is natural to crave, but dangerous to build your whole life around How the world challenges you until you become stronger Why your weaknesses can become opportunities to grow and be brave Why courage means having fear and acting anyway Why the opposite of playing it safe is not recklessness, but freedom Why betting on yourself is a practice, not a one-time declaration Timecodes So You Can Jump to What You Need If you're not listening straight through, here are a few landmarks to help you find the part that speaks to where you are right now: 00:00 – A note about my weekly email and where I put my attention every week 01:50 – Welcome to the micro show and the short message behind today's episode 02:07 – The memory of telling my family I was leaving the expected path to become a photographer 02:44 – The quiet room, the polite smiles, and the worry underneath the silence 03:08 – The fear of public failure, financial insecurity, and having to crawl back to a "real job" 03:32 – Why the fear of saying what you want can keep you from taking action 04:11 – Why the silence after you announce your dream can be more powerful than encouragement or criticism 04:37 – The question: are you 100% going after your dreams? 05:04 – Playing it safe, fear, and why fear is optimized for survival 05:33 – The best stuff in life is on the other side of the comfort zone you are craving 05:54 – The world will throw curveballs as long as you are still playing 06:16 – Why challenges become easier as you get stronger 06:43 – Your weaknesses as blessings and invitations to grow 07:11 – Courage is having fear and doing it anyway 07:33 – The opposite of playing it safe is freedom 07:56 – Why I'm betting that you can activate, take calculated risks, and get to work on your truest dreams 08:19 – The invitation to join me in the bet 08:42 – A quick thank you for listening, sharing, and growing together Read This If You Feel Like It Might Be Too Late If you feel like it might be too late to go after your dreams, start by telling the truth. Are you 100% going after what is true for you? Not what looks good from the outside. Not what keeps everyone comfortable. Not what you chose five or ten or twenty years ago because it made sense at the time. What is true now? For most people, that question is uncomfortable because it removes the hiding places. It asks us to admit where we have settled. It asks us to look at the gap between the life we say we want and the choices we are actually making. That can sting. But it can also wake us up. "Too late" is often fear disguised as wisdom. It sounds mature. It sounds practical. It sounds final. But sometimes it is simply the story we tell ourselves so we do not have to risk being seen trying. Trying is vulnerable. Trying means you might fail. Trying means people might watch you change direction. Trying means you might have to admit that the safe path is not the satisfying one. But not trying has a cost too. The cost is your aliveness. Your creativity. Your sense of possibility. Your relationship with the part of you that still knows there is more. Stop Treating Fear Like a Stop Sign Fear is information. It is not an instruction. It can tell you that something matters. It can tell you that you are stepping outside familiar territory. It can tell you that identity, security, belonging, and ambition are all tangled together in this next move. That is useful information. But it is not the same as a command to stop. Sometimes fear means prepare. Sometimes fear means slow down and get clear. Sometimes fear means make the risk more calculated. Sometimes fear means ask for help. But fear does not automatically mean abandon the dream. If you wait until fear disappears before you act, you may wait forever. The practice is learning to move with fear. To take the next honest step while your hands are still shaking. To understand that courage is not a feeling you wait for, but a behavior you choose. A Simple Practice for Betting on Yourself Here is a simple way to make this real. Start by naming the thing you have been afraid to say out loud. Write it down plainly. No polishing. No over-explaining. Just the truth. Then ask yourself whose silence you are afraid of. Who are you imagining in the room? Whose pause, judgment, worry, or disappointment has more power over your choices than it should? Once you have that, separate fear from fact. Write down what is actually true, and then write down what fear is predicting. Those are not always the same thing. Fear loves to present a prediction as a certainty. Your job is to notice the difference. Then choose one calculated risk. Not a reckless leap. Not the whole mountain. One honest action that moves you toward what you want. Send the email. Make the call. publish the work. Have the conversation. Block the time. Start the project. Admit the dream to someone you trust. The goal is not to eliminate fear. The goal is to build evidence that you can move with it. Don't Take Your Bat and Go Home As long as you are still playing, you are going to get curveballs. That does not mean you are doing it wrong. It means you are in the game. The temptation, when things get hard, is to turn challenge into evidence that you should quit. To decide the safe path was safer for a reason. To take your bat and go home. But growth comes from staying in the game long enough to get stronger. The things that feel impossible today may not become easy tomorrow, but they can become easier. You can become more capable. You can become more resilient. You can learn how to meet the pitch. That is why betting on yourself matters. It is not blind optimism. It is a commitment to keep participating in your own life. Questions to Ask Yourself What dream have I been afraid to say out loud? Whose silence am I afraid of? Where am I mistaking discomfort for danger? What am I calling "practical" that might actually be fear? What comfort zone am I currently protecting? What curveball has the world thrown at me, and what is it asking me to learn? Where could one of my weaknesses become an invitation to grow? What would courage look like today, even if the fear does not go away? What calculated risk would move me closer to my truest dreams? What would it mean to bet on myself this week? The Core Idea Bet on yourself. Not because success is guaranteed. Not because fear will disappear. Not because everyone will understand immediately. Bet on yourself because the alternative is letting fear quietly design your life. The silence after you say what you want is not proof that you are wrong. The discomfort is not proof that you should stop. The fear is not the enemy. Fear is optimized for survival, but you are not here merely to survive. You are here to create, connect, grow, and give what is yours to give. The opposite of playing it safe is not reckless risk. The opposite is freedom. It is creating the ultimate game of life and then deciding that you are actually going to play. So today, I'm betting on you. I'm betting that you can activate. I'm betting that you can take calculated risks. I'm betting that you can get to work on your truest dreams. And more than anything else, I want you to join me in that bet. Until next time: stop treating fear like a stop sign, stay in the game, and bet on yourself.

Hey friends, Chase here Eric Zimmer is on the show today, and this conversation is exactly the kind of reminder we all need when we are trying to change something real. You probably know Eric from The One You Feed, his award-winning podcast about wisdom, behavior change, mental health, spirituality, and what it means to live well. But Eric's new book, How a Little Becomes a Lot: The Art of Small Changes for a More Meaningful Life, goes somewhere even more fundamental. It asks a question that feels especially urgent for creators, entrepreneurs, leaders, parents, and anyone trying to build a meaningful life in a world that constantly tells us to optimize everything: What if lasting change is not about becoming more disciplined, but about learning how to stop fighting yourself? That question matters because most of us have made change too heavy. We wrap it in shame, pressure, perfectionism, identity, ambition, self-criticism, and the fantasy of the big breakthrough. We get stuck waiting for the epiphany, the watershed moment, the dramatic turn where everything finally becomes clear. Eric's message is simpler, deeper, and more freeing: "There are moments that stand out because we pull them out and we pluck them out and we make them important, but they don't make sense without the moments before and after. There's all these little, deeply uninteresting moments where I made a small choice to move towards my recovery and away from my addiction again and again. And that's the way change really works." That idea is the center of this episode. We talk about Eric's journey from homelessness and heroin addiction to recovery, coaching, teaching, and writing; why your mind has a mind of its own; how to work with competing desires instead of pretending they are not there; and why small choices compound into a completely different life. This conversation is about loosening the grip. It is about getting back to the part of you that knows what matters, even when another part of you wants comfort, distraction, escape, or relief right now. Why This Conversation Matters Right Now We are living in a strange moment for anyone who wants to grow. On one hand, there has never been more access to tools, ideas, books, podcasts, teachers, frameworks, research, and practices that can help us change. That is extraordinary. But it also comes with a cost. The pressure to optimize every corner of our lives has never been stronger. Every scroll seems to bring another routine, another system, another habit, another rule, another version of the person we are supposed to become. We are constantly being asked to improve ourselves: What is your morning routine? What habit are you tracking? What are you optimizing? What are you building? What are you eliminating? What is the plan? Those questions can be useful at the right time. But when they show up too early, or too often, they can turn growth into another way of beating ourselves up. Eric's work reminds us that change begins with honesty. Before the perfect habit. Before the flawless system. Before the heroic reinvention. Before the new identity. Before the transformation story, there is a person being pulled in different directions. Wanting to change. Wanting to stay comfortable. Wanting what matters most. Wanting what feels good right now. Wanting freedom. Wanting safety. Wanting growth. Wanting acceptance. That does not mean something is wrong with you. It means you are human. And in that understanding, there is a kind of wisdom most self-improvement advice forgets. What We Explore in This Episode Eric's low point at 24 and how homelessness, heroin addiction, illness, and the threat of prison became the beginning of his recovery journey. Why the big turning point is not the whole story and why change actually happens in the small choices that come after. How to understand the "off-camera moments" of transformation that never make the montage but make all the difference. Why your mind has a mind of its own and what it means to be a motivationally complex person. How to work with what you want now and what you want most without shaming yourself for having competing desires. Why "playing the tape all the way through" can help you see past the first scene your mind wants to show you. How structure and story both shape change, and why systems alone are not always enough. How to hold change and acceptance at the same time when life refuses to fit into simple categories. Why trying smaller can create momentum when trying harder is not working. The Core Idea: Little by Little, a Little Becomes a Lot The fastest way to get unstuck is often to stop waiting for the big transformation and start paying attention to the next small choice. We get obsessed with the dramatic moment. The rock bottom. The epiphany. The vow. The clean break. The day everything changed. We want the music to swell. We want the story to make sense. Eric's story has one of those moments. At 24, he was homeless, addicted to heroin, physically depleted, and facing the possibility of decades in prison. Going into long-term treatment mattered. But Eric is careful not to confuse the turning point with the transformation. The transformation was not one decision. It was thousands. The decision to move toward recovery again. The decision to not use again. The decision to show up again. The decision to do the next small thing again. The decision to choose what mattered most over what felt urgent right now. The on-camera moment gets the attention. The off-camera moments create the life. Eric's point is not that ambition does not matter. It is not that insight does not matter. It is not that we should abandon goals, systems, or discipline. It is that the living center of change is choice. The small one comes first. Your Mind Has a Mind of Its Own One of the big tensions in this conversation is the voice many of us carry around that says, "If I really wanted to change, this would be easier." That voice says: You should have more discipline. You should be more consistent. You should know better by now. You should not still struggle with this. You should be able to just decide. Eric's response is that we are not simple creatures. We are motivationally complex. We do not want one thing. We want lots of things. We want what we value most, and we want what feels good right now. We want to grow, and we want to be comfortable. We want to change, and we want to be accepted exactly as we are. That is why the phrase "your mind has a mind of its own" is so useful. It gives language to something we all experience. You decide you are going to do one thing, and then you watch yourself do another. You know what would help, and still you avoid it. You care deeply about the future, and still the present moment feels more real. The work is not to shame that complexity out of yourself. The work is to understand it. Play the Tape All the Way Through One of my favorite parts of this conversation is Eric's explanation of a recovery practice called "playing the tape all the way through." When we want something in the moment, our mind often shows us only the first scene. The first scene is relief. The first scene is escape. The first scene is pleasure, comfort, avoidance, or release. In Eric's addiction, that first scene was all the reasons getting high would feel amazing. But recovery taught him not to stop there. He had to keep the tape running. Then what? The shame comes back. The fear comes back. The despair comes back. The consequences come back. The craving comes back, often stronger than before. This is such a powerful tool because it makes the future less abstract. Before you avoid the work, play the tape through. Before you send the angry email, play the tape through. Before you break the promise to yourself, play the tape through. Not to punish yourself. To see clearly. Structure Matters, But It Is Not the Whole Story Eric makes an important distinction in this episode between the external architecture of change and the internal moments of choice. A lot of personal growth advice focuses on structure. Set the goal. Build the system. Make the habit obvious. Make the habit easy. Design the environment. Remove friction. Put the right reminders in place. That matters. But structure is not the whole story. Because even when you know exactly what to do, and even when you have made it as easy as possible, the moment still comes. You and the choice. Do you write? Do you walk? Do you call? Do you tell the truth? Do you choose what you want most over what you want now? When we do not make the choice we wanted to make, Eric says there is usually something happening inside us. A feeling. A thought pattern. A story. A fear. A form of self-doubt we have not learned how to work with yet. That is why real change needs both. The structure and the story. Try It Smaller Eric says something in this episode that every ambitious person should sit with: Try it smaller. That does not mean the goal does not matter. It means the path has to be walkable. When a change plan is not working, many of us assume we need more discipline. More pressure. More intensity. More accountability. But often, the better move is to make the action smaller. If you cannot write for two hours, write for ten minutes. If you cannot meditate for 30 minutes, sit for three breaths. If you cannot change your whole health routine, put on your shoes and walk around the block. If you cannot face the entire project, open the document. Small does not mean meaningless. Small means repeatable. And repeatable is where momentum comes from. Change and Acceptance Are Not Opposites Another major theme in this episode is the tension between growth and acceptance. One of the best parts of us wants to change. We want to grow, improve, heal, create, recover, repair, and build better lives. And yet, so many wisdom traditions point us toward acceptance. Presence. Contentment. Allowing things to be as they are. So which is it? Do we change, or do we accept? Eric's answer is that very often we have to do both about the exact same thing. He talks about depression in his own life. Is that something he has changed, or something he has accepted? Both. There are things he does that make depression less likely. There are practices, supports, behaviors, and choices that help. And sometimes the cycle comes around anyway, and the most skillful thing he can do is say, "Oh, this is what's here." That is not resignation. That is honesty. Wise Habits Create Momentum With Compassion The title of Eric's book is not just a catchy phrase. It is a worldview. A little becomes a lot. Not because one tiny action changes everything overnight, but because small choices compound. They build identity. They build trust. They build momentum. They begin to align our daily actions with our deeper values. Eric calls these Wise Habits. They are not just outer behaviors designed to make us more efficient. They also include inner attitudes that bring more peace, clarity, and self-compassion to everyday life. That matters because self-criticism is often mistaken for seriousness. We think if we are hard enough on ourselves, we will finally change. But harshness usually creates more resistance. More shame. More hiding. More all-or-nothing thinking. A Wise Habit does something different. It helps us move forward without declaring war on ourselves. Ask What Problem You Are Solving Near the end of the conversation, Eric offers a simple question that I love: What problem are you solving? That question is a filter. Because we are surrounded by advice. Every day, someone is telling us to start a new routine, stop eating at a certain time, wake up earlier, track something, optimize something, remove something, add something, become something. Some of those ideas might be useful. But not every good idea is your idea. Not every habit belongs in your life. Before you collect another self-improvement assignment, ask what problem you are actually trying to solve. That question brings you back to values. It brings you back to clarity. It brings you back to the life you are actually living. About Eric Zimmer Eric Zimmer is an author, teacher, speaker, behavior coach, and the creator of The One You Feed, an award-winning podcast about wisdom, behavior change, mental health, spirituality, and what it means to live well. At 24, Eric was homeless, addicted to heroin, and facing the possibility of decades in prison. His recovery sparked a lifelong exploration of human transformation, resilience, meaning, and the small daily choices that shape a life. His new book, How a Little Becomes a Lot: The Art of Small Changes for a More Meaningful Life, brings together behavioral science, Zen Buddhism, modern psychology, and timeless wisdom to show how lasting transformation happens through small, repeatable choices. Timecodes 00:00 – Eric on why change happens in the small off-camera moments 02:11 – Chase introduces Eric Zimmer and How a Little Becomes a Lot 05:25 – Eric shares the low point that became the beginning of his recovery journey 06:17 – Why Eric's extreme story contains something universal 09:34 – How treatment, recovery, and the question "why do we change?" shaped Eric's work 11:19 – The tension between wanting to grow and learning to accept where we are 13:48 – Why the big turning point only matters because of the choices that follow 15:12 – The difference between external architecture and internal moments of choice 18:29 – What it means that your mind has a mind of its own 19:07 – Why we are motivationally complex creatures 20:20 – The dilemma between what we want now and what we want most 22:00 – Why small changes require trust in the process 23:19 – Playing the tape all the way through 24:52 – The rider and the elephant as a model for change 26:30 – Why "you are the average of the five people around you" is incomplete 28:29 – Emergence, friendship, and why relationships are more than instruments for success 30:44 – How to seek growth while allowing life to be as it is 33:04 – Eric reflects on grief, Alzheimer's, and the practice of allowing 35:08 – Why some things must be both changed and accepted 38:31 – Two types of change: change that happens to us and change we cause to happen 39:01 – Getting clear on why you want to change 39:25 – Asking "what problem are you solving?" before chasing another tactic 40:42 – The SPA method and why specificity matters 41:53 – Planning for what will go wrong 42:14 – Deconstructing the choice point when you do not follow through 43:01 – Working with self-doubt skillfully enough to begin 43:50 – Why trying smaller can help you build consistency 44:21 – Chase reflects on the hope, kindness, and practicality of Eric's work 45:37 – Where to find Eric's book, podcast, and work Questions to Ask Yourself If you want to turn this episode into action, take a few minutes with these questions: What change am I trying to make right now, and why does it actually matter to me? Where am I waiting for a dramatic breakthrough instead of making the next small choice? What am I trying to force that I might need to understand first? What do I want now, and what do I want most? What first scene is my mind showing me, and what happens if I play the tape all the way through? What would it look like to try smaller instead of trying harder? Where is self-criticism pretending to be discipline? What part of my life needs more structure? What part of my life needs more compassion? What am I trying to change that I may also need to accept? A Simple Practice for Making Real Change Here's something practical you can do this week. Choose one change you care about. Not ten. Not your whole life. One. Ask yourself: What problem am I solving? Then make the next action smaller than your ambition wants it to be. Open the document. Walk for five minutes. Sit for three breaths. Send the text. Put the shoes by the door. Write one paragraph. Make the call. Tell the truth in one sentence. Do not evaluate it too early. Do not turn it into a full identity. Do not decide that it only counts if it is dramatic. Do not use one missed day as proof that you cannot change. Just make the next small choice. Then notice what happens. Notice what gets in the way. Notice what story shows up. Notice whether something in you begins to trust that change does not have to arrive all at once. That is enough. Final Thought The longer I do this work, the more I believe that transformation is not something we can force. It is something we practice. It happens after the decision. After the insight. After the moment we wish would change everything. It happens in the quiet, ordinary, off-camera choices that do not look like much at first. Eric's invitation in this conversation is simple, generous, and quietly radical: Stop making change so dramatic that you cannot touch it. Get clear on what matters. Understand the parts of you that are pulling in different directions. Build the structure. Work with the story. Play the tape all the way through. Try it smaller. Return when you stumble. Little by little, a little becomes a lot. Until next time: make the next small choice, and keep feeding what matters most.