Permission

Most of the content I see online comes from coaches.

They talk about how they created more revenue, built a happier life, or overcame a background I can relate to.

There’s just one problem.

Eventually, they’re talking to me about paying them to teach me how to do the same thing.

And lately, I’ve started wondering about that.

If most of their success now comes from people like me, people who are searching, vulnerable, ambitious, or simply trying to build a better life, what exactly am I trying to become?

And I wonder if someone did the same thing for them.

I bring this up because I’ve fallen into this thinking too.

When I started getting good at real estate, I thought I was supposed to coach real estate.

When I started working on a podcast, I thought I needed to teach people how to podcast.

Get good at something.

Teach other people how to get good at it.

Then teach those people how to teach someone else.

I realize that may sound completely normal to a lot of people.

But for me, it started to feel like a vacuum.

So I want this website, and really everything I do from here on, to be different.

I want to help you understand what I’m doing without constantly telling you what you should be doing.

Because if you wanted to live my exact life, you couldn’t get there by buying a course, watching all of my videos, or even talking to me for the rest of your life.

You’re not me.

And I’m not you.

The sooner we understand that, the better.

So what can I give someone reading this?

I can encourage you not to quit.

I can remind you that it’s going to take practice before you understand what you’re supposed to do.

I can share what I’ve learned and let you decide what applies to your life.

And most importantly, I can point you to Christ.

When I tell you something I believe is true, I hope you’ll consider why I’m sharing it.

I don’t want your dependence.

I want to help.

I spent a lot of nights watching countless YouTube videos.

I spent money going to retreats and conferences to watch people stand on stages and tell me how they did it.

Sometimes I spent what was almost the last of my money.

Looking back, I think I finally understand what I was searching for.

Permission.

Permission to start.

Permission to believe in myself.

Permission to do something differently.

Permission to believe that maybe I could build something too.

If I could go back and talk to that younger version of myself, I’d tell him:

Learn from people, but be careful who you follow.

Don’t follow someone simply because you want what they have.

And don’t build your life around another person’s blueprint.

People are just that.

People.

They can teach you.

They can encourage you.

They can show you things you’ve never seen before.

But they cannot tell you who you were created to be.

I would tell myself to root what I believe in something far more reliable than another person’s success.

I would root it in Christ.

So as we go through this journey together, I hope you see me as someone walking alongside you, not someone standing above you telling you how to become what I’ve become.

I’ve learned some things along the way.

I’ll share them.

Take what helps.

Leave what doesn’t.

Ask questions.

Keep learning.

Keep building.

And don’t spend your life waiting for another person to give you permission to live yours.

I wrote this for you.

But I wrote it as a reminder for myself, too.