What you don't do

I’ve spent a lot of my life wondering what to do. Sitting outside on muggy summer mornings as a boy wondering if I should try to practice my swing, take a ride out to one of my hideouts, or go to the pool. Whether I should go inside and grab the cordless phone and call around to see was doing what today. Who was grounded? What for? It’d make good conversation at the pool.

When I was a teen, I wondered if I should work and where? Should I sit in a cubicle all day in an air-conditioned office with a headset on trying to trick Mexican kids into subscribing to the LA Times for their parents who didn’t understand English?

Or sweat in an industrial kitchen frying up heart attacks to ensure the overworked, overstressed office drones didn’t live long enough to collect their retirement?

Or when I was a young man, I wondered if I should follow in the footsteps of my dad and my uncles. Pick up a job at some factory or warehouse. Load frozen meat by the pallet into semi trailers, put glue on labels and slap them on boxes, or run my hands over slick plastic sleeves of saltine crackers to make sure they were sealed.

Should I go to college? Study music? English? Information Technology?

Truth is, I could never decide. So, I did it all.

I’m still trying to do everything. Do I want to teach? Start a freelance writing business? Write and publish books? And here I am, working my day job, starting a freelance business, prepping for Excel classes, and writing.

But something’s changed. I don’t want to say I can see the end of the road, but I can sense it. There are only so many miles left before I hit the dead end.

There’s this temptation to do it all. Collect experiences like Pokemon—and every few years the list multiplies. And man, does it feel good to check items off the list.

But is it good for you?

I can’t remember the last time I sat in the grass and watched the sunset—cicadas buzzing, a cold can sweating in hand, and nothing else to do. Or laid on the ground watching the stars, connecting the dots and trying to imagine someone else on some other planet looking at the little blue marble floating in their sky.

I’d rather do either of those things than prep material for an Excel class or write an email newsletter for some wannabe entrepreneur with a Shopify store who’s all in on dropshipping or selling print-on-demand t-shirts and mugs.

I have a job. I don’t need the money. Why the hell am I trying to do all these things? For the experiences?

But when I set my priorities, what do you think goes on the top of the list? What goes on the top of yours?

It’s alright to have goals and ambitions. I’m not saying otherwise. But are they focused? Are you trying to do everything?

Author, musician, and entrepreneur Derek Siver’s believes when deciding what to spend your time on it’s either HELL YEAH! or No. There’s no middle ground.

Warren Buffet agrees.

The difference between successful people and really successful people is that really successful people say no to almost everything.

He says to list your top twenty-five goals, circle the top five and eliminate the rest. That’s right, he’s saying to cut eighty percent of your most important goals.

Maybe you don’t have this problem. Maybe it’s just me, Sivers, and Warren.

But, if what I’m saying sounds familiar, maybe start thinking in terms of what you don’t do. Or what you won’t do. Cut the eighty percent of things that don’t make you say, “Hell Yeah!” Write them out.

• I won’t play the guitar.

• I won’t teach Excel classes.

• I don’t write marketing emails.

• I don’t take tech work anymore.

And if you don’t know what’s important to you, pick a day to watch the sunset. Or an evening to stargaze. Whatever you do, do it in silence. And put your damn phone away. The modern world is so noisy and your inner voice is so quiet that you probably can’t hear it unless you take the time to listen.

Slow down a little. Focus on the things that matter to you. Eventually you’re going to run out of road.

Take care,

James