The House on Paper Street
About a year ago I was sitting at my friend’s house on Paper Street, showing off my Uber-productive morning routine. Boasting about waking up at an ungodly hour to work on myself, maximizing creative output, reading, writing, meditating, whatever. Phony Robbins in full preacher mode.
I am Joe's lack of self awareness.
Surprisingly he let me go on for a while, listening with angelic patience. Then one question sent my house of cards crashing:
"Vlad, for all of this productivity, what have you actually created?"
Damn, I guess I really wasn't doing that much. Most of my creative energy was going into convincing the world that I had creative energy.
I needed evidence to prove that I wasn’t a fake. Not just to him, but to myself. Now I spend less time being productive, and more time collecting proof that I did something. I think that’s why the podcast was born. I’m tired of being the talker, a life lived over promising and under delivering.
Originally posted on vladdit.com