The path of least resistance
Over the past 6 months, I’ve felt stuck creatively.
I’ve been running in circles working on the same projects, writing and rewriting the same books, and chasing targets that seem to keep getting farther away from me.
And none of this is down to a lack of effort. I work harder than most people I know and study just as much to stay ahead of the curve. And I’m not being boastful when I say I’m excellent at what I do.
But despite my excellence, I’m always halfway from the places that I reach for.
Investors and wealth managers like to talk about the path of least resistance. These discussions revolve around the idea that humans, naturally, prefer to choose investment options that seem easier to navigate and scale.
For example, you might be more inclined to invest in a startup with a product that could go to market quickly. But just because a product might sell fast doesn’t mean it will withstand the test of time.
The reality is some of the best products on the market today spent a great deal of time in the research and product development phase before being introduced to the market.
It took Jobs and Wosniak five years working together before selling their first Apple computer. The difference between a good idea and a great idea is the number of iterations it took to bring the great idea to life.
Now, I’m neither a software nor a product capable of significantly changing the world as the Apple computers did. But, in moments like this, it seems like I’m stuck and waiting to get out of the development phase. Yet, I have to resist the urge to move towards the path of least resistance.
So, what can I do?
I can make better decisions, but I can’t skip the process or escape the work. I can temper expectations, but I can’t play it safe. I can rethink my targets, but I can’t aim too low.
But most importantly, I can keep creating, but I can’t teach myself to know and understand what it’s like to move past this phase.
So, I reckon that I need to hear from someone else who has been where I want to be—someone who has spent a great deal of time in the development phase before seeing their creativity come to life in its best form.
I need a mentor. Not a friend, leader, boss, supporter, angel, or visionary: a mentor.
My father was my last mentor, and since he went home, I haven’t had one—one who understands what it means to be in my position in every sense of the word.
One who has walked in some version of my shoes. One who has failed, lost, won, and succeeded time and time again.
I don’t know if there’s one out there for me. But at the moment, I’m looking. Without one, it might be a while before I get unstuck. So wish me luck on my search.
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