May 2024

There are people who have won the game of life—or at least, the version they chose to play. Wealth, recognition, influence. They built their world meticulously, insulating themselves with tailored experiences, curated relationships, and an unspoken understanding that reality, as most know it, is optional for them.

And then, every once in a while, something breaks through.

Maybe it happens on a spontaneous walk through an old neighborhood. Or at a roadside stall where they stop, just for a moment, to taste something made without pretense. Or in a conversation with someone who has nothing to sell, nothing to prove—just a life that, despite its lack of polish, seems oddly… full. A life where the kids spend time with the parent bcause they want to, a life where they go where they please, have no attachments holding them back from moving base, can connect deeply with strangers without an inherent suspicion of them. 

For a fleeting second, they see it. The alternate path.

A life that wasn’t optimized for net worth, but for richness of a different kind. One where laughter doesn’t cost a fortune, where stress isn’t manufactured, where joy isn’t an accessory to be displayed but a natural state of being.

And then—almost immediately—the thought dissolves.

The pull of their world is strong, too strong. There are schedules to keep, assets to manage, investments to track. There’s an identity to uphold, one that doesn’t allow for such sentimental musings. And so, they slip seamlessly back into their carefully constructed reality, the moment of clarity filed away as an odd but forgettable detour.

Because the problem with seeing outside the bubble—just for a moment—is that it makes staying inside it feel just a little less real.

Standing still feels safe. It feels like stability. But in reality, it’s the quickest way to fall behind.

In life, in business, in anything worth pursuing, there is no neutral ground. The world moves, and if you’re not moving with it, you’re being left behind.

Some people walk, believing steady progress will keep them in the game. But when the world is sprinting, walking is just a slower way to lose.

The rules of movement depend on the arena:

• In business, a company that merely keeps up is already outdated.
• In personal growth, the person who stops learning is already declining.
• In relationships, the friendship that isn’t nurtured is quietly eroding.

You don’t have to sprint all the time. That leads to burnout. But you do have to pick a pace that keeps you ahead. Some seasons demand a full sprint—market shifts, career moves, pivotal moments. Other times, endurance matters more—deep expertise, reputation, legacy-building.

But standing still? That’s just an illusion of safety.

The question isn’t whether you’ll move. It’s whether you’ll choose your pace or let the world choose it for you.