Yesterday I turned 36 years old. It’s not a major milestone in the grand scheme of aging, but it got me thinking—my life may be one third completed.

Of course, that assumes I’ll be a centenarian—a person who lives to be 100 years old NOT a mythical half-human, half-horse creature (although that’d be cool, eh?).
Anyway… every October I dedicate time to reflect on my business and life. This usually involves reviewing my past goals, realizing I’m a failure, writing a personal performance review, and then publishing it alongside a new set of (unattainable) goals for the new year.
However, I’ve decided to not do that anymore. Here’s why:
I originally got the idea from James Clear, author of Atomic Habits. He used to publish Annual Reviews and did so consistently from 2013 to 2019. I was inspired, so much so, I tried to mimic his style on my website.
In fact, I tried to write like James, publish high-quality articles like James, heck, I even used the same WordPress theme as James.
And that’s where the problem started.
Instead of being myself—exploring, expressing, and sharing my world—I’ve ended up stunting almost all of my thoughts, experiences, creativity, and achievements.
Seriously, just look at the 243 drafted posts that may never see the light of day:

It’s a damn shame, really. Because I’ve done a lot of wild and wonderful things in my life.
Such as the time I:
- Nearly died from hypothermia while cycling across Eastern Canada;
- Started my first business in Japan with only the ability to say “Arigato” (thank you) and “Konnichiwa” (hello);
- Raised ¥100,000+ in 24 hours after the Kumamoto Earthquake then cycled to cook French toast with Canadian maple syrup for the people staying in shelters;
- Got deported from Indonesia during the peak of COVID-19.
Where are those stories? Collecting digital dust in WordPress drafts, Google Docs, or worse—stuck in my head.
And—I fucking hate that.
Honestly, I feel like a hypocrite and a fraud. I work with clients all the time to define their company’s strategy, target their ideal audience, and craft messaging that connects those dots.
Yet here I am not listening to my own damn advice. I mean, just look to what I wrote in my footer (many years ago):
This website is the epicenter of my thoughts, strategies, and achievements in business and life. I also provide professional services like web design and copywriting.
Meanwhile, it’s been nothing close to the epicenter I wanted it to be. I just unashamedly promoted my services and splash affiliate links in my content in hopes to make a quick buck.
Sure, I’m a self-employed agency of one. I gotta do whatever it takes to put food on the table, clothes on my back, and plane tickets to new destination. Which means I gotta putt more money in my clients’ bank accounts (that’s how us service providers survive, ya know?).
But enough is enough.
For too long, I’ve been stuck promoting my services while hiding my real self. I’ve even allowed many third-party influences to shift my focus from what really matters to me.
I’ve spent too much time letting other people’s ideas and bullshit enter my head. “You need to create videos,” they say. “You should do more social media,” or “Why don’t you use a fake AI Avatar?”
I hate it. Every time I listen, I end up chasing shiny objects that pull me further from what I truly love: writing.
It’s what I’m good at. I even get off to the sound of my Akko keyboard clicking and clacking as I develop my ideas.
At the same time, I know I’m nurturing my personal growth. I’m contributing toward being a better version of my self. And, ideally, I’m contributing valuable knowledge to a world that’ll help others achieve great things in their business—and life.
So, I’m hitting the factory reset and getting back to my core values:
Work hard. Travel far. Live long.
I may be one-third finished here. Or maybe I’m half over? I don’t know how much time I’ve got left, but I do know I’m going to make it count.
Who the fucks knows?
All I know is, if you want real change, you have to take the reins on whatever control you’ve got and steer that fucking thing as hard as you can in the direction you want.
And right now, writing more and hitting the damn publish button is my direction.
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