*Typing*

Your taste is unique. But, it’s not exclusive. Create stuff you like. Naturally, others will like it too.

Everything is a popularity contest. How you choose to participate says a lot about who you are: Influencers start them. Conformists join them. Contrarians oppose them. Individualists avoid them. Capitalists monetize them. Artists express them.Writers document them. Pioneers end them.

It’s okay if some people hate you. I’m so tired of brands trying to appeal to everyone. It’s unoriginal. It’s cowardly. It’s uninspiring.

Imagine if tomorrow Coca-Cola decided to water down their product because 97% of the world finds it too sweet. Coca-Cola would not only lose the 3% of customers who love their product exactly as it is, the remaining 97% would still complain that it’s too sweet (or no longer sweet enough).

Stop trying to appeal to everyone. Your desire to be well-liked is watering down your brand to the point that it will appeal to absolutely nobody.

Some people hate Harley Davidson. Other people get the logo tattooed to their face. Some people hate Hermès. Other people drop $40,000 on their handbags. Some people hate Taylor Swift. Other people fly across the world to attend her shows. Some people hate Coca-Cola. Other people consider it the best moment of their day.

You should not value the worth of your brand by its mass appeal but instead its raving fans and mortal enemies.

When you find that you are stuck, move. It doesn’t need to be anything monumental. In fact, it’s better if it is small.

I was reading once that to escape quicksand, you must neither sit still nor thrash about. Instead, you are supposed to make slow, tiny movements which loosens the sand and allow water to seep in. Eventually, the earth will release its grip and you will be let free—life and work function in much the same way.

It’s rarely idleness nor dramatic actions that get us unstuck, but deliberate movement that compounds into momentum over time.

Some people argue for patience. Others, intensity. But, this life requires both.

You need the patience to wait for the opportunity to appear. Then, you need the itensity to seize it.

Think of the heron with its arrowed beak fishing the banks of some long, winding river. Embody that creature.

At an instinctual level she knows the easiest way to catch something that doesn’t want to be caught is to remain still.

She does not chase. She does not rush. She does not thrash. She is patient. She is patient until the very moment patience no longer serves her.

Then, she strikes. All at once, she strikes. She crashes through the water’s surface like a bolt of lightning; like a guillotine.

And, it is done.