The Night I Wrote Three Pages About Nothing and Fixed Everything
Have you ever had one of those life-changing experiences after which you know you’ll never be the same? The ones that make you walk a little funny; your head floating somewhere up in the sky while your feet stay very firmly on the ground?
I want to tell you about one such night. A night that flipped a switch in my brain and made me go hard after my dream life: full power, full speed.
Have I achieved everything I wanted yet? No. Am I happier than before and can I see the path? Yes. Am I doing things that bring me genuine pleasure? Also, yes. Do I already feel successful? Heck, yes.
Do you need this vibe in your life? Then keep reading!
Where I was when this happened
Shortly before turning 42, I had already gotten into the habit of journaling regularly. I wasn’t writing a book or performing for anyone, simply moving my hand across paper to get things off my chest, so I could walk into the next day without dragging the previous one behind me.
Through journaling I get reborn, day after day. Each time I get to keep the best parts of me and leave behind the parts I don’t particularly like.
How? I would love to tell you.
When I journal, there’s only one objective: get three pages of writing out of yourself. I subscribe to this because time and again, I’ve sat down dead certain I had nothing to say – only to end up dismantling a wrong pattern of behaviour or finally understanding a fear I’d been carrying for years.
It’s how journaling works. Because for most people the pen moves far slower than the thought, something interesting occurs: you begin writing a thought, and your mind is already three thoughts ahead. But you come back to finish the sentence — and in that returning, you become both the author and the observer of what you wrote. Your mind is briefly free, because your hand already knows what to say. That’s when you get to actually consider the idea rather than just feel it.
That moment of reconsideration is often when magic happens. You’re not just having a thought; you’re seeing it expressed in the real, material world. It’s no longer something you can avoid. It’s right there, looking at you, demanding attention.
And when it’s important, you pay attention.
This was important. And I paid attention.
The business ideas problem
I want to share this one almost verbatim, because I know there are others out there going through something similar.
I recently wrote about how I lost my first business — quite literally stolen by my attorney whose advances I declined. Moving on from that, I had no interest in starting another business straight away. If I was going to start again, I decided, it would be something I’d love doing day after day.
The only problem is that I generate business ideas at the speed a slot machine delivers winnings. It’s overwhelming.
For years I had to let ideas go, because the honest truth was that whilst they were good ideas, I didn’t actually want to do the work. I was quite happy developing my marketing career. Or I was too scared – that’s still up for debate.
Over the years I became really good at my job. So good that I could identify the core issues within a company’s approach to product development and presentation within hours of walking in — and those who took my advice ended up thriving. I also became good at pulling businesses out of the technical spider webs that sneaky external consultants would build around them, saving companies more than 700% of what they were spending whilst making them technically more resilient and capable of growth.
You can probably guess what happened next. I got so much in demand that I had to start a business, or my time and knowledge would simply be abused indefinitely.
But there’s never enough for human greed. Slowly but surely, I grew resentful of my clients. Whatever growth they achieved was never enough. So I decided I’d be more comfortable working for just one company — and I looked long and hard until I found one with a mission.
Or so I thought.
The marketing bros arrive
Around that exact time, the bros entered the world of marketing. I’m talking about the toxic lot; Hormozi and company. The ones who teach you to use spam techniques to achieve remarkable growth. In plain terms: the marketing bros.
Anyone with two brain cells to rub together understands that their teachings are designed for short-lived glory and only work on the kind of customer whose insecurities a business can exploit. The problem? There are too many businesses willing to do exactly that, and enough insecure people in the world that these techniques work often enough — not a statistically significant number of times, but enough — to make you believe that you too can spam your way to success. And the business owners I worked with proved sufficiently gullible to fall for it and ask me to participate in marketing that was, frankly, scam-adjacent.
Which brings me to my point and the best advice you’ll ever get on starting a business
By that time I had — stupidly, but very humanly — allowed myself to become financially reliant on my income. That’s the design of modern life, and escaping it takes a significant amount of effort and some real luck.
The moment I understood what was happening — that to stay financially afloat I’d need to compromise my values completely — I entered panic mode. I went scrambling through my stack of business ideas, desperate to find one that would get me out. What I was actually doing was panicking in quicksand, sinking deeper with every movement.
For years I couldn’t find the answer. The more I tried, the worse it got. Every business plan failed. Every attempt at something new died and a piece of me went with it.
The night everything shifted
Until that night.
Sitting with my journal, I finally admitted the truth: I had been approaching every business idea like a desperate beggar, clinging to its skirt and demanding it sort me out.
And let me tell you something. Nobody likes desperation. Not even the universe.
But until that journaling session (the one where I sat with each business idea and asked myself honestly what my intention and reasoning behind it really was) I hadn’t admitted that. Suddenly it felt pathetic. I realised I needed to step back from all of it. If I was going to start another venture, it would be one I’d love doing for the doing of it. One that would connect me with the kind of customers I actually wanted to be around — not the previously mentioned, growth-obsessed variety that had been making me sick to my stomach. One where the day-to-day tasks didn’t make me cringe.
Suddenly, the weight lifted. I no longer felt pressured to create a business that would rescue me from my environment. And I certainly wasn’t going to build one born in desperation.
Fast forward a few months: I’m here, writing articles for Daily Pages.
Is it a business? Yes.
Is it mine? Yeah, baby.
It was created with love, with patience, and with genuine passion — and what the future holds is none of my business right now. What I’m doing here and now brings me pleasure. That’s enough.
Do you want me to promise you success?
I could. But if you’ve read this far, I’ll bet you’re reasonably intelligent. Which means you already know that success has many ingredients. Being honest with yourself is unquestionably one of them. Is it enough on its own? I don’t know. But since we both know it’s mandatory, you might as well start here.
Join me for the next journaling challenge. I’ll help you get started. It only costs commitment to YOURSELF. Do you have that?