The worst thing that can happen to a man, woman or chair is becoming civilized.
Because then spending time in an office meeting people they don’t like and doing things that they hate under halogen lights feels acceptable.
And using a ThinkPad with Windows.

And preparing a PowerPoint.
And eating the daily lunch special.
And being afraid to ask for a raise.

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And when you point it out to him (to her, to it, to them) he tells you that “it is what it is,” that “what can you do,” that “life is like this,” and that it’s not that bad, really.

It’s fine.

Of course.

It’s fine for someone who thinks that kind of life “isn’t that bad.”
To him, making a million feels impossible.

Something only the gods could achieve.

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And investing in himself feels insane.

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He finds a thousand reasons not to do it.

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Among other things, because any investment in himself feels expensive.

Holidays. Massages. Personal trainer. Mentors. Trainers. Advisors. Personal assistant.

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Everything.

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Much better to do everything for others.
Nothing for him.

Of course not.

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But the real reason he won’t invest in himself is the possibility of failure.
And worse: the possibility of discomfort.
That’s the real horror.

That’s unbearable, intolerable, unacceptable.
Feeling fear, being rejected, getting a cortisol spike.

Hell no.

The civilized man seeks safety.
The caveman seeks conflict.

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My mission in life is to uncivilize you.

At least a little.
To turn you into a caveman who can hunt even if he’s dropped naked in the middle of the jungle.

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Make the most of this Saturday and wear a loincloth.

​My Mentorship​

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