If I Was More Honest Cover

If I Was More Honest

If I was more honest, I would tell you that I’m way behind. I’m behind on my job, behind on writing this, behind on writing something else, behind on school, behind on spending time with my family and behind on caring for my community.

I feel like I’m behind on life. I should be so much further ahead. I do and do and care and run and do and care way too much and in the end it doesn’t even add up. Am I just faking this? Am I even doing the right things? The important things? Or do I just sabotage myself? So I can then feel behind?

Maybe I’m exactly where I should be. Maybe I’m just standing in my own way.


If I was more honest, I would say I’m sometimes lonely. I’d rather be alone than with someone who’s not good for me, but finding a person to hold on to really sucks.

But I would probably admit that I haven’t tried all that hard. I haven’t put in the time to find someone great and so I don’t deserve someone great just yet. Mostly because I’m busy being behind.

Sparks don’t always fly when you meet someone and even when they do they don’t always catch fire. And sometimes they catch fire but you soon realize you’re the only one sitting by it and so you say “okay” and you put it out and you leave and you try to find sparks elsewhere.

I got tired of chasing sparks. It makes me feel even more behind. So I just sit by my own fire and work and do, so I feel a little less behind. But I’m still behind.


If I was more honest, I would take a break and admit that I’m scared of the future. Yes, I have a plan and yes, I mostly stick to it, but that doesn’t mean all this uncertainty isn’t driving me nuts.

The world is a giant race full of machines trying to beat yesterday’s machines, machines trying to beat humans and, worst of all, humans trying to beat humans. Always. All the time. And fast. Does my plan even make sense? Will it tomorrow?

Anxious parents send anxious kids to anxious teachers who follow anxious leaders and later become anxious parents themselves. No one has a clue what’s coming. I don’t either.


If I was more honest, I wouldn’t use so many stock photos. I’d just take a picture with the shitty front camera of my iPhone, me sitting in my chair in my pajamas, unshaved, with messy hair and glasses and stick it right on top of the post. But I’m never sure if it “works.” I’m never sure if it’s professional enough. And I’m never sure that if I do, does that make me fake because I did it to be “authentic?”

What’s this now? Authentic? Professional? Insecure? Or all of them?

So way too often, I stick the real pictures inside the post or don’t post them at all and the title images continue to look beautiful but none of that answers my question: What does it even mean to be honest when I write? Where is the line? Is there a line?


If I was more honest, I would tell you that I’m even afraid to write this because I really don’t have a reason to complain. I have a happy family, a handful of great friends and I can achieve anything I want if only I work hard enough long enough. That’s more than 99% of people have. Family, friends, opportunity.

The family thing alone feels like it should be a birth right. But it’s not. A strong family is the most basic element of a functioning society, a functioning nation, a functioning world — and more people lack it than ever before. Why is that? I don’t know.

But because I have it everyone always thinks I’m the sane one. For the most part, I am. But it doesn’t mean I never have days where I’m down, days where nothing’s working, days where I just want to give it all up and start over. I’m very lucky and very aware of it but it feels like now I have to smile all the time and be strong and be there for everyone and hold their hand. That gets heavy.

I never ask for it but sometimes it’d be nice if someone just came along and said “Hey, let me hold your hand this time.” I might not even let them but it’d make me feel better.


If I was more honest, I’d never have to use the phrase “if I was more honest.” I wouldn’t have to write it out in bursts like this or muster up the courage to preface announcements with “honestly, if I’m really honest or to be honest with you.” I’d just blubber out the truth, all the time. Because I wouldn’t care what you think. Or he thinks. Or she thinks.

I wouldn’t listen to songs about honesty 177 times in a row and then think: “You know what? It’d probably be good to write something very honest.” I’d just do it all the time and it’d make me feel a lot better every time I did.


If I was more honest, I’d be better with people. I’d tell them they’re lazy when I think they’re lazy and that they’re great and I envy them when they’re great and I envy them. I would share more of my mistakes and the problems that trouble me and maybe it’d help them avoid making and having the same ones. I would feel compelled to apologize a lot less. I would call people out more. Challenge them. In fact, I would probably dare to ask you:

If you were more honest, what would you say?


If I was more honest, I wouldn’t put a fancy pitch for my email newsletter at the end of each post. I would just tell you that you giving me your email address is one of the very few chances I have of making a living at the thing I love. Writing. Because I can contact you now. Directly. There’s no middle man. And I can just talk to you and send you things and ask you questions and the occasional favor.

I would tell you that it’s no pressure and that all I’m trying to do is write stuff that’s worth your time and if all you want to do is read more of it for free for the rest of your life then that’s fine by me. But if one day I ask you to buy something from me and you think it’ll help you and you buy it then maybe, just maybe, one day I can make a living from writing and that would make me really happy.

The Most Important Rules to Break Are Your Own Cover

The Most Important Rules to Break Are Your Own

When I first began learning how to live a better life, I decided to watch a video every day. After 67 days, I branched into more specific habits. With every individual habit, I took the same approach: do it every day.

  • When I stopped drinking, I didn’t drink for two years.
  • When I started writing down my priorities, I did it every day for a year.
  • When I quit coffee, I didn’t have any for 100 days.

Once I started coaching people and helping them with their habits, I found a tool called The Habit Tendency Quiz. I’m an Upholder. The creator of the quiz, Gretchen Rubin, says Upholders are great at picking up and letting go of habits for one reason: they play really well by the rules.

Whether I set them for myself or am handed a guidebook, once I know what the expectations are, I’ll work my ass off to live up to them. But this is also the dark side, Gretchen says:

“Upholders are too driven by getting the Goldstar. They look for the rules beyond the rules. It’s too important for them to know what the rules are. They’re almost boxed in by the rules. They don’t know what to do when there aren’t any.”


In 2014, I decided to take online business seriously. In 2015, I decided writing would be my way to win. So I lived by the rule I knew to have worked, the only rule I knew: write every day.

For over two years, I have lived by this rule.

In 2015, I wrote 250,000 words. In 2016, I published a book summary each day. 500,000 words. In 2017, I kickstarted my journey on Quora the same way.

For a while now I’ve known it’s time to let go of this rule. I wanted to finish my year of daily answers and then quit. But once you’ve chosen a new path, there’s no use in delaying it. That’s a new rule I’d like to try.

The most important rules to break are your own.

Replace them with better rules. When you find a better rule, it’s your responsibility to implement it immediately. So today, I’m moving into new territory: The land of no rules.

When a post takes me three days, it takes me three days. If I feel like writing three answers in one day, that’s what I’ll do. And if I don’t feel good about any piece for a week, I won’t publish.


Knowing the rules is important. It allows you to pinpoint which ones you better follow and which ones must be broken to win. But on top of the rules of the game, you’re playing by your own.

These rules are invisible. They’re hard to see. You may never have consciously set them. Some serve you for a while. Others keep you from moving forward.

You can’t find these rules in a guidebook. They’re part of who you are. Which makes them hard to let go. Much harder to reject than others’ rules.

When you discover your own rules, do you have the courage to break them?

“I am free, no matter what rules surround me. If I find them tolerable, I tolerate them; if I find them too obnoxious, I break them. I am free because I know that I alone am morally responsible for everything I do.”

― Robert A. Heinlein

Death Is What Gives Life Meaning Cover

The Biggest Paradox in Life

In Marvel’s Dr. Strange, there is a scene where he and his mentor are standing at a window, looking out on a titanic thunderstorm.

The Ancient One, who’s lived for hundreds of years, gives Dr. Strange a piece of advice for the final challenge he must face.

Dr. Strange: I’m not ready.

The Ancient One: No one ever is. We don’t get to choose our time. Death is what gives life meaning. To know your days are numbered; your time is short.

Almost a year after seeing the film, I still remember this scene most vividly.

The only reason our lives have meaning is that they end.

From the moment we’re born, we’re thrown on to an unstoppable curve of momentum, slingshotting towards the only definite event in life: death.

Think about it. Everything that makes life great is fleeting.

  • Your ice cream tastes so good because it’s about to melt.
  • Time with your partner is precious because you can kiss them only a finite number of times.
  • Your grand mission to change the world is urgent because you don’t know how long you have to accomplish it.

Every single experience that makes our time here worthwhile goes back to that time being over soon. No one wants to live forever once they’ve lived long enough. And yet dying is what we’re most afraid of.

It’s the biggest paradox in life.

The next time your ice cream falls on the floor, your heart is broken or you have to let go of a dream, remember this:

Death is what gives life meaning. We don’t get to choose our time.

But each second passed is a second that made it more precious. No matter how you spent it.

Hero Worship Cover

The Importance of Worshipping Your Heroes

Three weeks ago, one of my heroes took his own life. You never know who your heroes are until they’re gone. One day you listen to an old song from some band you like, the next you realize they’ve shaped who you are for over a decade.

One of the saddest truths in life is this:

“Great heroes need great sorrows and burdens, or half their greatness goes unnoticed. It is all part of the fairy tale.”

– Peter S. Beagle

Sometimes, it’s not until the hero collapses under that very burden and the fairy tale finds no happy ending that our eyes open.

I don’t think Chester Bennington realized how much of a hero he really was to me and millions of Linkin Park fans around the world. Because we didn’t either.

Now all that’s left for us is to write your name on every wall we walk past.

But even amidst the torrential outpour of love over this tragedy, there are the voices of those who tell us not to channel our grief into worship. To stay grounded.

“We mustn’t idolize him.” “He wasn’t that special.” “Suicides happen every day.”

Somehow, whatever greatness we find in a special person must be explained away. He had a great coach. She followed the 10,000-hour rule.

In our politically oh-so correct world of all equal everything, it feels out of place to have heroes. I feel out of place for worshipping my heroes.

That’s fucked up.

Nobody Remembers a Nobody

In The Greatest Minds and Ideas of All Time, Will Durant writes:

“The history of France is not, if one may say it with all courtesy, the history of the French people; the history of those nameless men and women who tilled the soil, cobbled the shoes, cut the cloth, and peddled the goods (for these things have been done everywhere and always) — the history of France is the record of her exceptional men and women, her inventors, scientists, statesmen, poets, artists, musicians, philosophers, and saints, and of the additions which they made to the technology and wisdom, the artistry and decency, of their people and mankind. And so with every country, so with the world; its history is properly the history of its great men.

In other words: Nobody remembers a nobody.

Even in a world where everyone can reach millions of people at the click of a button that hasn’t changed. We just hate admitting it more. Because fame feels so close. But it is as it always was: most of us won’t remember most of us.

Yes, thanks to viral videos a lot more people will get their 15 minutes of fame. But very few will get on 60 Minutes.

Leaving a legacy is a different game altogether. You really have to mean it.

Chester knew this:

“I always wanted to be a rock star. That was my childhood dream. That’s what I told everybody I was going to be when I grew up.” 

You may have a real talent for singing. Maybe, singing is a big part of your life. But to Chester, singing was his life. There’s a difference and a profound one at that.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, Herman Melville, Monet, Bach, Kafka, even Van Gogh, died poor and unknown — after having dedicated their entire life to their craft.

The reason we still remember their names now is an incredible combination of luck, timing, chemistry and, most importantly, a lifetime of dedication and perseverance.

Who are we to take that away from them? Who are we to think we’re entitled to an entry into the books of history?

We Can’t All Be Famous

Technology may distort our view, but the numbers don’t lie: Very few of us will end up on someone else’s pedestal. And that’s not a sad thing.

In fact, most of us aren’t meant to. Or want to.

But we’ve gotten so angry about this fact, as a collective we’ve managed to push our heroes into a corner of humility — whether they like it or not. Chester felt it.

He’d always say things like “If fans come up to me, I talk to them.” or “You’re constantly trying to prove yourself, even after you’ve made it.” or “We’d like to think that our music will always be bigger than any one of our individual personalities.”

PR teams tell their athletic talent to play it cool, entrepreneurs say their idea was “just common sense” and actors read out long thank you lists at award ceremonies to not look entitled.

How often do you see a noteworthy individual take pride in their accomplishments? How many of your heroes have you heard say: “I deserve this. I worked hard for this.”

Even more importantly: How many times did you agree?

The Value of Shameless Worship

Imagine, just for a second, you embraced all the inequality in this world. What if you gave credit where credit is due, even if it means credit for just a few?

What if you let go of all that anger? Why not let your heroes do the screaming? Wouldn’t you feel a lot closer to them? At peace?

I know Chester’s screaming helped me a lot when I was younger. He wore his heart on his sleeve, so darkness wouldn’t grow in mine. Anything but reverence would be a disservice.

No, I refuse to let my hero get lost in a sea of equal faces. Life’s never fair. But my shameless worship is my relief. It makes it easier to bear.

My shameless worship is my vision. It allows me to see.

And oh how clearly I see – just like Will Durant:

“I see men standing on the edge of knowledge, and holding the light a little farther ahead; men carving marble into forms ennobling men; men molding peoples into better instruments of greatness; men making a language of music and music out of language; men dreaming of finer lives-and living them. Here is a process of creation more vivid than in any myth; a godliness more real than in any creed.” 

You Can Shape the Course of History

Miserable people chisel away at heroism every day. She got lucky. He’s not special.

Let them keep chiseling in blindness, because that’s exactly what makes our heroes special. That they saw the odds and continued anyway.

We can’t all go to the places they’ve visited. But we can take our hats off. Stop pushing them. Stop envying them. And help them earn their rightful place in history.

Open your eyes. Find your heroes. Lift them through the fucking roof.

And worship them while they’re still here.

2 Minutes to Forever Improve Your Writing Cover

2 Minutes to Forever Improve Your Writing

The following 4 tips took me 3 years of writing to collect but will only take you 2 minutes to learn. Your writing will be better forever.


Refuse to Use the Word “Thing”

Each thing can be described in more detail. When we don’t we’re just being lazy. Don’t drown the cake in frosting to avoid baking a new one.

Let a device be a device, a trait be a trait, a feeling be a feeling.

Before:

“This is the greatest thing my parents taught me.”

After:

“This is the greatest lesson my parents taught me.”


No Brackets

Like “thing,” parentheses only weaken what you actually want to say. If you want to say it, say it. If not, don’t.

Whether it’s the brackets that are unnecessary or what’s in them is for you to decide. But one of the two is. At least 99% of the time.

Probability is on your side when you ditch them.

Before:

“You must pass a (ridiculously hard) course.”

After:

“You must pass a ridiculously hard course.”


Fewer Prepositions

Many of us need to free up time these days. But time doesn’t go anywhere on its own. Not up. Not down. You don’t have to pull it. You take it. Or make it.

Don’t free up time. Make time. Don’t move out. Just move. You won’t miss out on the concert. You’ll miss it.

Sometimes we even add two unnecessary prepositions to one verb.

Before:

“He wants to meet up with Sarah in the morning.”

After:

“He wants to meet Sarah in the morning.”


Eliminate Redundant References

The reader arrived from your last sentence. She’ll remember it. Don’t begin the next one with a preposition or injection.

“So” doesn’t say so much, “as before” breaks my flow, “or” repeats the obvious alternative. “Well” means you’re not done thinking, well, take more time to write.

Never reference the end of your previous sentence at the beginning of the next one.

Before:

“Writing improves your thinking. With this in mind, I suggest you write daily.”

After:

“Writing improves your thinking. I suggest you write daily.”


We’ve known what makes good writing for almost 2,000 years. Often, it takes just a few seconds to improve a sentence. If you want to write a book, that’s still a lot of seconds.

Four tips, two minutes of learning, but a lifetime of discipline to apply them.

Will you find it?

If You Secretly Dream About Being A Billionaire, This Is For You Cover

If You Secretly Dream About Being a Billionaire, This Is For You

I was raised with a lot of privilege. I’m not trying to deny it. But you know what the massive side dish is that comes with privilege? Delusion. You always expect more food to magically appear on your plate, without so much as leaving the table.

One of the most common, yet most dangerous illusions my generation secretly indulges in is the idea of becoming a billionaire.

Go ahead. Feel it. Deep down. It’s there.

“I’ll become a billionaire.”

As if it was just a matter of when. If you just felt a slight tingle, I have a few questions for you. Questions for future billionaires.

1. What’s your GOOD reason for wanting to make a billion?

I like David Blaine’s idea that success is giving as much as you get.

He says what makes Bill Gates so great is that he’s figured out how to give the money he’s amassed to worthy causes better than most institutions can. Polio’s almost eradicated. Next, he’s going after Guinea worm disease.

If the only place you want to direct the money is into your own pocket, you’ll never think broad enough to reach a billion.

“To make a billion dollars, help a billion people.”  —  Peter Diamandis

2. What’s your REAL reason for wanting to make a billion?

Now that we’ve got the noble cause out of the way, why do you really need the money? What happiness can a billion buy you that 100 million can’t?

That 10 million can’t? That one million can’t?

It’s just another arbitrary number. What’s not arbitrary is the psychological hole you’re hoping it’ll fill. Where’s the hole?

Are you insecure? Lonely? Do you lack self-worth? Self-love? Who do you want to prove wrong? Yourself? The world?

It’s okay. Just like the idea of becoming a billionaire itself, when you dig deep enough, you’ll realize it’s there. We all have it. But know it’s there.

“There’s always a good reason and there’s always a real reason.”  —  James Altucher

3. How are you going to make your billion?

Seriously. Do the math. The real, serious math. We’re not talking about revenue here. We’re talking about profit. Profit you can pocket.

What does a billionaires bank account even look like? Is there ever a billion on there? I have no idea. And neither do you.

Only 3% of billionaires made their money from running private companies. Can you take a company from zero to IPO? How big is your total market? Is there even a billion in there?

“If past history was all there was to the game, the richest people would be librarians.” — Warren Buffett

4. Who’s going to make your billion for you?

That’s right. Not with you. For you. You have to be aware that in the end, that’s what’s happening. Everyone you hire along your journey will partly be responsible for making your billion. And you will hire people. You have to.

These people will work with you. But they’ll make money for you. Tell me: Why should they? Tell them. You better have a compelling reason. A good offer.

What are you going to give back? What are you going to do for them?

“Help young people. Help small guys. Because small guys will be big.”  —  Jack Ma

5. When do you expect your billion?

If the answer is anything less than 20 years from now, you can stop right here. Warren Buffett became a millionaire just before turning 30. He first was a billionaire at 56. That’s 26 years, starting from millionaire status.

Are you a millionaire yet? No? Whoops. That’s just the first part. But even that’s ridiculously hard.

And don’t you dare tell me about Mark Zuckerberg. You’re not Mark Zuckerberg. Mark Zuckerberg isn’t reading this. Neither would you be, if you were already seriously working on your billion.

“I’m here to build something for the long-term. Anything else is a distraction.”  —  Mark Zuckerberg

6. What are you willing to give up for your billion?

If being a billionaire is your number one goal, think about number two. You will not get number two. Or three. Or four. The bigger the goal, the bigger the sacrifice.

0.0000272% of all humans are billionaires. They gave up not one, but all the things that make the other 99.99% of people what they are — the other 99.99% of the people.

Whatever you think you can also have, next to being a billionaire, you most likely can’t. We’re not talking about giving up watching football here.

Are you willing to be a bad father for your billion? An absent mother? Are you willing to lose your girlfriend? Or all your friends? Would you give up family? Sleep? Food for a week?

Most importantly: Are you willing to give up being understood by every single person you know?

“I was set free, because my greatest fear had already been realized, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.”  —  J.K. Rowling


Privilege is a sweet syrup. There’s lots to gain from savoring it. Delusion is the bitter taste it leaves in your mouth when you get used to it.

So here’s one last piece of bark to chew on. As of 2017, there are 2,043 billionaires in the world.

How many of them do you think started with dreaming about being a billionaire?


Sources

[1] Fear{less} with Tim Ferriss

[2] 2015 Gates Annual Letter

[3] American Billionaires And Their Private Company Fortunes

[4] The Age When 17 Self-Made Billionaires Earned Their First Million

The Painful Truth About Art Cover

The Painful Truth About Art

On July 20th, 2017, Chester Bennington died by suicide. He was 41 years old. You may not know who Chester is, but you might recognize this picture:

It’s a bit old, here’s a more recent one with his friend Mike:

He was my friend too. Chester wasn’t the kind of friend you could call on a Thursday and grab a coffee with. No, he wasn’t like that.

But whenever you needed him, Chester would sing for you.

When I was 13, I was angry a lot. I was angry at my parents, angry at my friends, but mostly angry at myself for not knowing who I was.

I think that’s normal. I think all 13-year old boys are angry. When he sang, Chester was angry a lot too. You could hear it in his voice. And somehow, every time he was done singing, I didn’t feel so angry any more.

My friends from school were angry a lot too. Andy and Flo and Nils and Max. Whenever we’d saved some money, we’d go to the store and buy some of Chester’s CDs. I even remember the plastic bag I carried them around in.

If you still have CDs somewhere, maybe you have some of Chester’s CDs too.

A lot of people have the top left one. Chester’s band has sold more records than any other band in this century. They just released a new album and were supposed to go on world tour next week.

Today I realized that a lot of the greatest art we have the privilege to feel, breathe and live comes from a dark place.

Sometimes, the artist doesn’t make it back from that place. For more than half of my life, Chester went there so I and millions of other people wouldn’t have to.

Only this time, he didn’t find his way home.

I wish I could have just told him he didn’t have to go there any more. That it’s okay if he wanted to stay home a little longer. But that’s not how the world works.


Another great artist recently said you die twice:

“Once when they bury you in the grave and the second time is the last time that somebody mentions your name.”

I hope that’s true.

I’ll tell my children about Chester. I’ll ask him to sing for them when they’re angry. Maybe they’ll tell their children too and he won’t really die for a long time.

But today my friend Chester stopped singing and that made me sad.

How To Be Mentally Strong: The Magic of David Blaine Cover

How To Be Mentally Strong: The Magic of David Blaine

David Blaine might be the mentally toughest person on earth.

Here’s a short excerpt of the death-defying feats he’s pulled off over the years:

  • Holding his breath for 17 minutes and 4 seconds.
  • Consuming nothing but water for 44 days.
  • Catching a .22 caliber bullet with a small metal cup in his mouth.

…and, my personal favorite, Blaine standing atop a 100-foot high column for 35 hours with no sleep.

On multiple occasions, David was closer to dying than surviving. His strength to endure these situations is unfathomable.

More so, he has the courage to seek them out repeatedly, all because they fuel his ultimate goal: bring magic to the people.

Here’s what you and I can learn from him:

1. Be curious about enduring things.

When his mother fought cancer without complaint, David saw there’s more to hardship than suffering.

You can learn from it. But you have to wonder what’s on the other side to do that.

2. Hold on to creativity for dear life.

David went to Central Booking, the Manhattan municipal jail, for jumping a turnstile once. To avoid getting his ass kicked by the four buffest guys in the cell, he used the only thing he had left: his creativity.

Eventually, he won the whole block over with his magic and got out.

Hold on to your creativity as if your life depended on it. Some day it might.

3. Have nothing to lose.

David’s mother died in his arms. It almost broke him, but it left him with nothing to lose and everything to gain. We all have things we’re afraid will be taken away some day.

The only way to not let that stop you is to let go before you lose them.

4. Fast.

One of David’s favorite books is Siddartha by Hermann Hesse. When Siddartha practices living in poverty, a merchant asks him what he can give if he has no possessions. To that, Siddartha says:

“I can think, I can wait, I can fast. If a man has nothing to eat, fasting is the most intelligent thing he can do.”

Hunger is the most elementary test of human existence. Take it.

5. Train remaining calm in extreme situations.

Navy SEALs are made comfortable with blacking out under water by having to walk across the bottom of a pool while strapped to 45 pound plates. David held his breath while hanging around sharks so he would know what it feels like to perform under stress.

Don’t just practice hard, practice under the hardest conditions.

6. Expose yourself to your worst fears.

Extreme doesn’t always mean dangerous. Blaine was afraid of cockroaches. Yes, bugs. One night, he slept in a little tent in Botswana, which was circled by one and a half ton hippos. Suddenly, the bugs became his friends.

When your brain gets close to the breaking point, it’ll throw your worst fears at you. You have to know they’re not real when the time comes.

7. Learn to override your brain.

Not succumbing to your brain’s irrational illusions is just one half of winning the battle. Once you do, you’ll still have to get it to follow you in the right direction.

David likes to trick his mind with numbers. On his 44-day fast, he created a superstition that once he’d get to 22 days, he’d be fine. After getting half, he focused on the next 11 days, and so on.

Pretend arbitrary milestones mean everything and maybe, one day, you’ll master your brain.

8. When you know you’re going to fail, go on.

At the halfway mark during his second world record breath holding attempt, David said he was “100% certain that I was not gonna be able to make this.”

But he figured since Oprah had dedicated an hour to the live TV special, he’d be better off fighting until he blacks out.

After 10 minutes, the blood started rushing away from his extremities to protect his vital organs.

At 12 minutes, his left arm went numb, and he started panicking about having a heart attack.

At 15 minutes, he went into heart ischemia, with his pulse jumping from 150 to 40 and back.

16 minutes in, David is just waiting to have a heart attack. He floats to the top of the bubble, waiting. Seconds float by, feeling like years.

When the doctors pull him out of the water at 17 minutes and 4 seconds, David Blaine has held his breath longer than any human in history.

All because when he had already failed, he kept going anyway.


Most of us don’t have to risk dying to push our mission forward. But it’s the kind of magic worth emulating.

Take these lessons. Carry them with you. Within yourself. Turn them into a system. Whatever it takes to close the gap between your present state and your true potential.

Hopefully, one day, you can live at the edge.

We are all capable of infinitely more than we believe.”

— David Blaine


Sources

[1] David Blaine’s Personal Website

[2] Tim Ferriss interviewing David Blaine on fear{less}

[3] David Blaine’s TED Talk