Category: Articles

  • Just a little bit of doom, sir

    Emotions are uncomfortable.

    And there seems to exist this habit online that when people experience or display an emotion that makes us uncomfortable we feel the need to either, minimise it, challenge it or even correct it.

    No platform is removed from this. Not Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, Instagram or even in Email.

    So when you express something, let’s say a doomy feeling.

    …someone might show up to chastise you for that attitude.

    No sir, You can’t be doomy. Doom is bad. Doom is how they win, they’ll tell you. Doom is what they want so you mustn’t feel doom!

    Doom gets us nothing, you fool!

    Don’t you see what you’ve done?

    YOUR DOOM IS CONTAGIOUS!

    But there’s always a ying to the yang.

    Opposite scenario…

    If you express anything that makes you happy or gives you a little glimmer of joy. You know? That thing you love that helps keep the blackness out of your stare so you don’t lose yourself? That type of joy…

    It’s like if you said “I love pancakes” then some clown will reply: “so what you’re saying is you hate donuts?”

    Like that shit doesn’t even make sense.

    But we need to remember that we live in a world where our emotions have no utility to the world. They’re just emotions.

    Yeah we display them, often and people will challenge it or even worse try and make it so that when you do show it. That it’s going against and minimising things like democracy, climate change, economy, future existence.

    I mean I don’t know how me sharing my emotions will fix those problems but expressing them will help me balanced and explore me as a person.

    We’re messy as humans. And the world has gone to shit in many respects, so what’s wrong with sharing our emotions and feelings?

    It’s natural.

    You don’t need to correct someone’s feelings, because feelings aren’t facts. If they’re happy about something and expressing joy, you also don’t need to correct that joy. I mean, how messed up is that?

    You can put your own feelings on your own timeline, that’s fine. If you feel like doom is bad, and you have something to counter it, put it out into the world. That’s you getting to feel how you feel, and that’s okay, too.

    It’s hard not to feel doomy right now.

    It’s also hard not to desperately seek small, significant things of joy…

    I guess my point to this is on the days where you feel like there’s nothing but doom and gloom.

    Express it.

    If you’re feeling happy about something that might seem small to someone else.

    Express it.

    Just don’t chop someone down if they’re doing the same thing.

    If we don’t express it. It’ll consume us and we don’t want to become an empty husk of a person devoid of emotion.

    Cause if we do, then how are we gonna create our art?

    Stephen Walker

    https://www.stphnwlkr.com/theleague

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • A Map Of Your Mind

    “The mind is a superb instrument if used rightly. Used wrongly, however, it becomes very destructive. To put it more accurately, it is not so much that you use your mind wrongly – you usually don’t use it at all. It uses you. This is the disease. You believe that you are your mind. This is the delusion. The instrument has taken you over.” – Eckhart Tolle

    I recently shared a “Map of the Mind” inside our Path community.


    It can be applied to your business, your work, your relationships, your performance, your health, your social life…


    Everything you use your mind for, which is (hint) everything.


    Super powerful.


    Take a look:


    ​The first four levels of mind can be divided into: ​

    Impulse
    Emotion
    Thought
    Intuition
    ​

    And, even though they are interconnected, the real magic happens when we observe them as separate parts.


    ​Here’s a (simplified) starter guide… ​

    Impulse is the least intelligent form of mind:

    Driven by our “lizard brain” (the brain stem), which seeks survival and pleasure.


    Emotion is slightly more evolved:


    Driven by our “monkey brain” (limbic system), which seeks status and social connection.


    Thought is still more evolved:


    Driven by our “human brain” (neocortex), which seeks understanding and meaning.


    And then there is intuition…


    A phenomena not fully understood (and, often misunderstood) by science.


    Intuition exists on a higher order of intelligence than thought or emotion:


    It is the gut, the heart, the little voice inside, the part of us that simply knows, even why we don’t understand why we know.


    ​Getting these signals criss-crossed…


    (for example)


    Mistaking impulse for emotion (ie. the horny dude who thinks he’s in love with the girl he just met)…


    Following emotion over rational thought (ie. an investor panic-selling during a market dip, instead of following his long-term strategy)…


    Mixing emotion with intuition (ie. staying in a toxic relationship when you know it’s not right for you)…


    Using thought to justify impulse (ie. “I deserve this ice cream, I had a stressful day”)…


    Or, following thought over intuition (ie. remaining in a career you hate, instead of following a deeper calling)…


    ​…Is the source of much human error.


    Which means, learning to:

    Notice the signal
    Discern which level of mind it is coming from
    Follow the higher, and override the lower


    …Is a critical skill in the human development game.


    Just keep in mind, this is a skill:


    Which means it takes time and practice to develop.


    ​Here are some simple rules to help you along the way: ​

    Override impulses when they do not align with your higher goals.
    Feel your emotions fully before you make decisions or take actions.
    Take your thoughts into consideration, but do not mistake them as facts.
    Follow your intuition, even when it doesn't make sense.*

    • just make sure it’s really your intuition (and don’t be so sure you know…)


    If this feels confusing, at first, that’s because it is confusing.


    ​You’re developing a higher-level human capacity, and that sh*t don’t come for free.


    But make no mistake:


    It will transform every dimension of your life, if you master it.


    ​When you have a moment, I’d love to hear what insights this sparked for you: ​
    ​​
    Do you have trouble feeling intuition, or getting it mixed up with a different signal?

    Do you have trouble overriding lower signals (impulse / emotion) to follow higher signals (thought / intuition)?

    This is a new model I’ve been playing with, so your feedback is appreciated.

    • T

      ​P.S. To the keen eyes who noticed I said “first four levels of mind”…

      …Yes, there are levels beyond intuition.

      And maybe we’ll talk about them, someday.

      But not today 🙂

      If you’re still hungry for more, click here.​



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  • An open letter to young entrepreneurs

    Today’s email is a throwback to one of our greatest hits, originally sent in September, 2024. Enjoy 🙂

    During a talk I gave at WLU business school last night, a student asked:


    “How do you know which business model will work when there are so many options?”


    And, whether you want to start a business, or just have a successful career (or a successful anything, for that matter)…

    …There is only one honest answer:


    ​Damn near all of them can work.

    Building an organic following through social media can work.


    Running paid ads to a sales funnel can work.


    Podcasting and monetizing through sponsorships can work.


    Service businesses can work, online courses can work, software can work, agencies can work, even fxcking Skool communities can work.


    They can all work.


    ​The catch?


    They all take time to work.


    Time as in years, not weeks or months.


    (even Rogan didn’t make money until year five of his podcast)


    Which means you’re gonna have to choose one and stick with it…

    And then keep sticking with it…


    Ignoring the urge to jump ship to whatever shiny new business model the gooroos are peddling this month…


    Allllll the way through the slow, stubborn startup phase, showing up day after day, feeling like nothing is happening and you’re pushing a rock up a mountain with the wind at your face and the summit nowhere in sight…


    Not knowing if you’re ever going to make it, wondering if all of your work will ever someday finally pay off, or if you should just pack it in…


    …And maybe you should pack it in because there are no guarantees of success but also maybe you shouldn’t because other people have done it and if they’ve done it then dammit it’s possible and why not you?


    ​There is no shortage of bodies on the way up that mountain.


    But make no mistake, some have reached the top.


    And if you talk to any of them, they’ll all tell you the same thing:

    This s#*t takes time.


    And every time you jump ship from one model to another, you reset the clock.


    So, choose your path…


    (preferably one that you enjoy, that feels natural to you and suits the skill set you’re developing)


    …And stick to it.


    For years.


    Godspeed.

    • T


    ​P.S. Two notes:

    1. The same principle applies to career success, relationship success, even success in training and/or spiritual practice.

    1. Choose one and stick to it doesn’t mean “blindly put your head down and keep doing the exact same thing even if it’s not working.”


    It means continuously improving and optimizing and course-correcting within the model / path you’ve chosen…


    …And, only switching streams when it the current is very clearly flowing in a new direction (not when a shiny new opportunity catches your eye).


    Hope that helps.


    ​P.P.S. In case you missed it yesterday, here’s:
    ​​
    ​How To Avoid Ego Games In Dating & Relationships​



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  • The Jack Reacher school of consistency

    It’s not a secret that I love Lee Child and his writing

    And today I spent the day binging the Reacher series to get ready for season 3 that’s out on the 20th of this month…

    Now today I didn’t want to do any work or writing or whatever and frankly didn’t want to exist to anyone in any capacity.

    I just had one of those days and I know we all get them

    But after binging the whole of season 2 in one sitting and honestly becoming an couch potato

    I rediscovered a lesson that needs to be focused and applied by everyone…

    Doing the things that need to be done regardless of how you feel or the outcome might lead to

    The whole of season 2 was based on small bits of drama that got flung into Reacher’s direction and he didn’t complain, he just kept on moving

    I’d love to share more detail but I don’t want to spoil it if you haven’t watched it or plan on watching it

    And that’s it, that’s the major revelation I had today

    Nothing magical

    Nothing sexy

    Nothing “ninja”

    It’s painstakingly boring

    So boring that you won’t see any guru’s in the online space talk about it cause it can’t make ’em money

    So when you have those days where you want to crawl into a ball and do nothing at all, try stay consistent to what it is you’re trying to build…

    Like for me it’s this here little community of misfits who enjoy my emails

    Or it could be that book you’re writing, songs you’re producing or those drawings that need to be painted or whatever…

    If it’s good enough for Jack Reacher to keep going when he doesn’t want to

    Then it’s good enough for me to keep writing these emails and growing my list.

    Stephen Walker

    https://www.stphnwlkr.com/theleague

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • Fastest entrepreneur wins.

    “Money loves speed.” – Dan Kennedy

    Last week, I launched a one on one coaching program for entrepreneurs.


    And within a few days, it was full.


    Here’s how it happened:


    On Friday night, inspiration to start coaching entrepreneurs one on one came to me in the shower.


    On Monday morning, I sent an email announcing the coaching program.


    That’s it.


    ​Total time from idea to implementation:

    ​About two days.


    After 14 years in business, generating 8 figures in revenue and launching nearly 100 offers, one principle has remained consistent:


    ​Speed wins.


    Not perfection, not intelligence, and not even skill.


    ​Speed.


    Look around:


    There is no shortage of squishy, Prime-drinking, Skool-community-building mfxckers making absurd amounts of money right now…


    ​Not because they’re smarter or more skilled than you, but because they’re more savage:


    They’re less willing to wait around for something to happen, and more willing to hunt it down and make it happen; failure irrelevant, fear be damned.


    They’re not making plans to sit down and make plans, or scheduling meetings to talk about when they should schedule their next meeting.


    They’re not waiting until they’ve read six books, taken three courses, and consulted with their astrologer to identify the exact moment Mercury will align with Saturn and bless their first Twitter post.

    They’re not waiting until they know all the steps and can see the path to success laid out for them like a red carpet:


    They’re turning ideas into material reality immediately if not sooner, yesterday if possible, and recklessly, if necessary.


    They’re launching, testing, collecting data, iterating, and re-launching as fast as technology will allow.


    And that is why they win.

    • T


    P.S. This just dropped…​
    ​​



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  • You can’t outrun the debt, Garrick.

    I’ve been knee deep in my notepad today writing story intro after story intro.

    Noodling around with words on paper seem to be one of the most cathartic things to do.

    The boring part is the mechanical part and that’s just re-typing it for others to read.

    So if you wanna pop the trunk of what operates inside of my brain 99% of the day.

    Give it a little read and tell me what you think. It’s rough as toast but I’ll massage it into something better.

    Mack Garrick spits a wad of chewing tobacco into the dirt and watches it steam in the rain. The woods around him smell like wet ash and diesel. His pickup truck, rusted, one headlight dead, idles on the shoulder, coughing smoke. The shotgun under the passenger seat hums a low, familiar song. Come on, it whispers. Let’s dance.

    The girl in his backseat hasn’t spoken in fifty miles. She clutches a stuffed rabbit missing an ear. Eight years old, maybe. Blonde hair matted to her skull. Mack doesn’t ask why she was standing alone on Route 9 in pajamas at 3 a.m. Doesn’t ask why her bare feet left no tracks in the snow. Doesn’t ask why the dog tags around her neck read HENDERSON, J. – same as the soldier he watched burn alive in a Kabul ditch twelve years ago.

    “You see it too, don’t you?” the girl says, voice like radio static.

    Mack’s knuckles whiten on the steering wheel. The trees lean closer. Shadows pool in the ditches, thick and oily. He’s seen this before. In the desert. In the mirror after too much bourbon.

    “See what?” he lies.

    She points at the road ahead. The rain twists into shapes as it falls. Not drops anymore, sinews, tendons, tiny bones clattering against the windshield. A deer carcass lies mangled in the road, ribs cracked outward like wings. The girl’s rabbit twitches in her hands.

    Mack floors the gas. The truck lurches forward, tires screaming. The deer’s corpse scrapes the undercarriage, and for a heartbeat, the radio crackles to life. A man’s voice, sandpaper rough, rasps through the speakers… “You can’t outrun the debt, Garrick.”

    The girl laughs. Not a child’s laugh. Something older. Hungrier.

    Mack’s hand drifts toward the shotgun. The woods are gone now. Just endless road, bleeding oil-black under the headlights. The stuffed rabbit’s remaining eye glints silver in the dark.

    “Almost there,” the girl says.

    He doesn’t ask where.

    Stephen Walker

    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • Marinating in anger sauce

    It’s like everyone lost their damn minds today…

    I wonder if it’s cause of the Super Bowl?

    Could be Mercury doing backflips in whatever space based juice box it’s swimming in this week.

    Hell, for all I know, the space gods are playing marbles with planets and we’re all catching the fallout…

    It’s like every conversation I’ve seen today has been some sort of a cage match.

    If your neighbours dog looked at you funny?

    It’s like it was time go to back home, make some coffee and write a stupid 12 page manifesto about the decline of canine manners.

    Stop. Just stop.

    Imagine waking up one day and you know that day is your last, what’s your legacy gonna be?

    “Here lies Bob, who spent his final days arguing with people on the internet about pizza toppings on the internet?”

    We’re all stuck on earth. Breathing the same air.

    Dealing with the same type of shit thrown our way.

    That person you don’t like cause their political leaning also puts the pants on one leg at a time like you do.

    That person who cut you off in traffic? Probably just trying to make it to their kid’s school play on time.

    Life’s too short to spend it marinating in anger sauce.

    Yeah, the world’s messy. Yeah, things suck sometimes.

    But walking around like everything’s a personal insult from the universe isn’t fixing anything…

    It’s just giving you heartburn and making your face look like a constipated gargoyle.

    So maybe, just maybe, we could all collectively decide to dial it back from DEFCON 1 to something more reasonable. Like DEFCON “This is annoying but not worth having an aneurysm over.”

    And I’m no expert, but when the Grim Reaper comes knocking, he’s not gonna care about how many internet arguments you won or how righteously angry you were about everything.

    He’s just gonna ask if you lived a life worth living.

    And “I was mad about everything, all the time” isn’t gonna cut it as an answer.

    Wake up. Breathe. Pet a dog. Eat a sandwich. Whatever.

    Just stop being so damn angry about everything. The sky daddy or universe is weird enough. We don’t need add our own rage to the mix.

    Right. Time to get off of my Sunday Soap Box. I’ve got a coffee machine to shout at…

    …which is different cause the coffee maker and I have an understanding.

    This is also one of the best books I’ve read that helped melt away anger, worry and everything else in between…

    Stephen Walker

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • £12.99 for Mediocrity?

    The man sat in the dim light of his small apartment. The television glowed. It was the only light. He watched the screen.

    Netflix. Always Netflix.

    It was his escape, his distraction, his ritual.

    He paid for it. Every month. Ten pounds, then twelve, now more.

    Always more…

    The email came. He read it. Price increase. Again. The numbers were there, cold and unfeeling.

    Standard plan: £12.99.

    Premium: £18.99.

    Even the ad-supported plan, the cheap one, was up to £5.99. He stared at the screen.

    The words blurred. More value, they said. He wondered what value meant. More shows? More movies? More of the same?

    He didn’t know. He only knew he would pay. He always paid.

    He thought about the money. What it could buy. A meal. A drink. A book. But no. It went to Netflix. Every month. Like a tax. A toll for the privilege of forgetting. For the luxury of not thinking. For the comfort of the familiar.

    He didn’t cancel. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. The ritual was too ingrained. The habit too strong.

    He scrolled. The titles flashed by. Stranger Things. Squid Game. Wednesday. He had watched them. He would watch them again. He didn’t know why. He just did.

    The algorithm knew him. Knew his tastes. Knew his weaknesses. It fed him content. Endless content. He consumed it. Like a man in a desert drinking sand.

    The comments section was there. He read it. Anger. Frustration. Resignation. People were angry. People were always angry.

    But they paid. They always paid. He wondered why. He didn’t have an answer. He only knew he was one of them.

    A cog in the machine. A number in the ledger.

    Netflix didn’t care. Why would they? They had millions of users. Billions in revenue. They were a giant, towering and indifferent. They raised prices because they could. Because people would pay. Because he would pay.

    He thought about cancelling. Just for a moment. But the thought passed. It always did. He reached for the remote.

    He pressed play. The screen lit up. The show began. He watched. He forgot. He paid.

    The man sat in the dim light of his small apartment. The television glowed. It was the only light. He watched the screen. Netflix. Always Netflix…

    But here’s the thing, the man didn’t have to be just a consumer. He could be a creator. He could be the one sending out the emails instead of receiving them. He could build his own list, his own audience, his own empire. He could send out daily emails, filled with value, filled with insights, filled with stories. And those emails?

    They could make him money. Real money. The kind of money that could pay for Netflix ten times over.

    Think about it. Every email is a chance. A chance to connect. A chance to sell. A chance to build a relationship that lasts. Netflix raises prices? Fine. Let them.

    You now have a little something going on. Your email list. Your people.

    Your tribe. And they’re worth more than any streaming service could ever be.

    So start building. Start emailing. Start creating. Because while Netflix is busy taking your money, you could be busy making it and we’d prefer that story any day of the week…

    HERE’S ONE OF THE MANY SILLY LITTLE ARTICLES THAT MY FELLOW BRITS ARE UP IN ARMS ABOUT…

    And I thought it was apt to write a little story about it.

    Stephen Walker

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • Every high-level entrepreneur pays this price

    “There is nothing wrong with having butterflies as long as you can get them to fly in formation.” – Rob Gilbert

    Every year for the past ten years, I’ve given a talk at WLU Business School.


    And every year (every. single. year), at some point in the discussion, a student has asked me:


    ​”How do you deal with fear of failure?”


    At which point, I introduce the class to a guy named Mason.


    Mason started using my basketball training programs when he was 13 years old.


    Five years later, he was an All-State shooting guard, and held 3 point records in the state of Oregon.


    Impressive stuff, but not as impressive as what he did next:


    Instead of playing college basketball, Mason decided to cut his teeth in the world of entrepreneurship.


    This year, Mason’s business will generate $20MM in revenue…


    …And he is well on his way to landing a $100MM exit before he turns 30.


    At this point, I usually pause to let the weight of that number can sink in.


    Then, I continue:


    One night at our summer retreat, Mason told the story of how he and his partner launched six failed businesses in the span of two years, before they finally got one to take off.


    To paraphrase what Mason said that night:


    ​”I knew I was going to fail before I succeeded, so I decided from the start to keep on going until it worked. I failed fast, learned from each failure, and used what I learned to make the next venture a little better — until eventually, one of them took off.”


    That type of grit is rare in society, but it’s the standard price of admission for high-level entrepreneurship.


    Nobody learns to fight without taking some punches, and nobody builds a business without taking some bumps along the way.


    The take-home point:


    Those who make it in business get over “fear of failure” pretty quickly when they realize:

    Failure is a mandatory part of the learning process that leads to success.

    So no, failure is not to be feared.

    It is to be analyzed, learned from, and transformed into progress.


    So that’s what I tell the class.


    I hope it’s helpful for you, as well.

    • T


    ​P.S. Our one on one business coaching program is officially full.​

    Big thanks to everyone who applied, and big congrats to the three entrepreneurs (two business owners and one fund manager) in the program.

    This is going to be fun 🙂

    ​P.P.S. If you enjoyed this week’s series on entrepreneurship, I think you’ll enjoy this:

    ​Compound interest isn’t just a financial strategy, it’s a life strategy.



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  • The sacred art of doing jack shit

    There’s nothing like taking a day off to do absolutely nothing.

    The kind where you ignore work related email, clients, and the screaming urge of capitalism to binge Shameless until your eyeballs bleed whiskey. Although in this case it was just really strong coffee.

    And so any responsibilities and/or client work were ignored (Mainly cause I did it in advance)

    I haven’t taken a massive chunk of time off in a while because there’s never been a need for it.

    Although I do like the odd day off here and there to focus on the things I like to do.

    Call me old fashioned but I don’t really need a break from the work that I do, so taking a few weeks off is rarely needed.

    Although today was different. I played catch up with a couple of books that needed to be finished reading and I got sucked even deeper in to that series Shameless I mentioned before.

    It got me thinking again though. We all seem to have a filtered way we act online or in person and when you watch a show like Shameless. It hints that there’s a lot more raw-ness in doing what needs to be done.

    Ethics aside and all that, there’s something humbling about being authentic. I mean genuine authenticity. Not the woo-woo social media shitgoblins who preach authenticity.

    All thehe world’s a stage, and everyone’s performing. Smiling through teeth gritted with secrets. Polishing their personas like fucking cutlery. But Shameless?

    That show’s a sledgehammer to the veneer. It’s raw. Ugly. Human. The kind of “authenticity” that doesn’t come with a TED Talk or a $200 webinar.

    Just being plain ol’ you at the end of the day.

    And what I figured out a long time ago is that the quickest way you can expose the world to your actual authenticity is to write silly over the top emails like this one.

    I get to share my quirks and hobbies and annoyance with squirrels. You know that I’m a fiend for good coffee and I can be a sweary loud type when I’m sharing my passion for certain topics.

    I can already predict that this year and next year and the year after that will be built around small followings in hyper focused niches.

    So whether you’re going to be selling glow in the dark underwear or you’re going to teach cats to heard goats. Those little micro pockets of people will be the most important to focus on going forward.

    For now though…

    I’ve got a date with a hot new book.

    Stephen Walker

    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • Why most people should NOT be entrepreneurs

    “Running a start-up is like chewing glass and staring into the abyss. After a while, you stop staring, but the glass chewing never ends.” – Elon Musk

    First thing’s first:


    ​Thank you.


    The response to yesterday’s email was both inspiring, and surprising…


    Especially since I almost didn’t send it.


    I worried it was too un-relatable — too personal, too uncommon, too.. weird?


    No, that’s not the right word for it, but whatever it was, I was wrong.


    It struck a deep nerve, and I’m so grateful to everyone who reached out and reinforced my belief (my hope) that there are others who share a higher vision for what entrepreneurship can be.


    (full details in yesterday’s email, here)


    Now, on to today’s lesson…


    After speaking about entrepreneurship all week, it might come as a surprise when I say:


    ​Most people should not be entrepreneurs.


    Unpopular opinion, maybe.


    But it’s the obvious, plain-as-day truth, and anyone who tells you otherwise is probably making a profit on the other side.


    Now, please understand:


    ​I’m not saying most people can’t be entrepreneurs:


    Many can, and have the capacity to do it.


    But I am saying that if they knew the honest, blood-and-guts reality of building a business, they wouldn’t want to do it in the first place.


    Entrepreneurship sounds romantic, at first:


    ​Full of freedom and creativity and money falling from the sky like rain.


    And while it can be all of those things, those things don’t make up the full picture.


    In the full picture…


    Freedom comes with chains that bind you to your business 24 hours per day:


    Never letting you fully escape it.


    Creativity comes with total responsibility for your destiny, and crushing pressure to create a sustainable income.


    (or you and your family don’t eat)


    And, speaking of income, it’s all on you:


    Nobody is coming to bail you out with a paycheque at the end of the month, and every loss comes straight out of your pocket.


    ​So real-world entrepreneurship looks a lot more like slaying dragons than laying on a beach with your laptop.


    And for some, that’s exhilarating:


    (“Sharpen my sword and sound the battlecry, you can take my head but you’ll never take my freedom!”)


    But if you want my honest advice, I’ll say this:


    ​Only choose entrepreneurship if you can’t not do it.


    If doing anything else is unthinkable to you…


    If you’d give a limb before you’d give your time to a boss…


    If an idea is burning you from within and your only release is to get it out of your head and into the world…


    ​…Then welcome to the hard path, and let the battle begin.


    Just don’t choose entrepreneurship because it sounds like a good way to make a lot of money while doing very little.


    Instead, choose the thing you can’t not do:


    Whether it’s a job that inspires you, an art form that consumes you, or, yes:


    ​A business that drives you to make your mark on the world.


    If you don’t know what that is, yet, don’t stop.


    Keep looking.


    And never, ever settle until you’ve found it.

    • T


    ​P.S. If you’re one of the blessed and cursed few who can’t not build businesses:


    ​I may want to work with you.


    Here’s the deal:


    All week, I’ve been accepting applications for a new one-on-one business coaching program.


    However:


    I’ve turned away far more entrepreneurs than I’ve accepted, and I only have one spot left.


    ​So if you’re still interested, reply today to let me know:​

    Who you are
    What business you run (include a link to your site)
    Your current monthly revenue
    Your primary goal for the business
    Why you are a good fit for coaching


    If you’re a good fit, I’ll reply with more details about the program, and we’ll set up a time to chat.


    If not, no hard feelings (like I said, I only have one spot left, so I need to be extremely selective).


    And, if you want more details, click here.




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  • Social distance insanity

    Honestly I’m not even surprised at what happens in the world anymore.

    Here in the UK they’re just off the rails.

    There’s a flu going around again and it’s supposed to be BAD, like bird flu epidemic bad, but like anything to do with health. People will be affected by it one way or the other.

    Now there’s talks of potentially bringing back social distancing and masking and all of that fun stuff that happened during 2020.

    I know people are exhausted mentally, physically and spiritually and if something does happen and we’re told to stay at home. I know it’s gonna make a lot of people lose their shit.

    Me on the other hand. I don’t mind being at home, in bed and writing my daily emails. It’s what keeps me sane and if it means I don’t have to pay attention to what other humans are doing. Then I’m all good.

    I can’t say the same for what I see out in the world though, but I’m sure you can see it too.

    The world is on fire and we just need a damn break.

    That’s why I’ve gotten back to drawing/painting while getting better at this whole writing thing too.

    On top of that I’m also watching a hilarious series called Shameless, which honestly just shows how shameless we should be as people to get what we want out of life.

    There’s many micro lessons in there cause the show has been running for 11ish seasons. So I’d definitely watch it if you need a little escapism from the shit show.

    I’ve just made some tea, got some supplies and dragged myself to bed.

    And I’m going to be dead to the world for the next 18hrs.

    So come join https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

    Stephen Walker

    P.S. There’s been silence outside for the last 24hrs, so I’d imagine the squirrels are up to no good…

    If you’re not diggin’ these tasty little emails anymore you can hit the unsubscribe button right here >>> unsubscribe

    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • What you are looking for exists.

    “The goal so far as human beings are concerned… is ultimately the ‘self-actualization’ of a person:

    The development of the fullest height that the human species can stand up to or that the particular individual can come to.”

    • Abraham Maslow

    It’s February 2014, and my young business, Elite Guard Training, is celebrating it’s biggest month ever.


    We’re closing in on $200,000 per month, on route to our second 7-figure year in a row, and I should be happy.


    But I’m not.


    Instead of celebrating, I’m alone in my kitchen, looking around at the life I’ve built:


    The house I bought at 20 years old, the shiny new Audi in the driveway, the beautiful girlfriend, the freedom to do whatever I want to do, whenever I want to do it.


    ​And, in a moment, what I’m truly feeling…


    …The feeling that has been building, just below the surface, for months now…


    …Will finally boil over, and burn down my life as I know it.


    It begins as a thought in my mind:


    ​”Is this really all there is?”


    Which is immediately followed by another thought:


    “How spoiled. How could you not be grateful for all of this? Shame on you for wanting more.”


    “I understand,” I hear myself reply.

    “I get it. I’m lucky, and I am grateful… I know I should be happy.”


    But while the words are true, the voice behind them sounds hollow. Empty.


    Empty of certainty, empty of conviction.


    Empty of… meaning.


    Deep in my gut, the feeling reaches a boiling point.


    And I hear myself ask again, louder this time:


    ​”Is this really all there is?”


    Make money. Become successful. Get married. Have kids. Make more money. Become more successful.


    All fine, all good, allright.


    But… then what?


    More success? More money? Adopt a Nigerian baby? Donate a kidney? What?

    I search my mind for answers, and again I come up…


    ​Empty.

    Spoiled or not, the truth is true and I can’t avoid it any longer.


    The dam bursts, my legs give out, and I’m on the floor.

    Tears stream down.


    This doesn’t feel like sadness, it feels like hopelessness:


    ​I’m not wishing for something I don’t have, I’m wishing for something that doesn’t seem to exist.

    ​Is this just childish ignorance?

    Immaturity? Inexperience? Arrogance?

    Maybe, but as far as I can tell, this is the final level, and I beat it too early, and there are no more games to play because the game is my life and this is the only one I have, so what am I supposed to do with it now?


    Emotion pours out of me, bleeding onto the floor of the house that no longer feels like home.


    ​But as the feeling drains out, a new feeling emerges.


    A familiar feeling:


    The feeling I had before I started my business, as I stood at the base of the entrepreneurial mountain and began to climb.


    The feeling crystallizes in my mind, shining through the darkness to reveal a flash of insight:


    Not a thought, but a direct inner knowing that says…


    ​”What you’re looking for exists.”

    Realization crashes in waves:


    Money, status and success are not the end game, they are only level one.


    Entrepreneurship is not about accumulation, it is about self-actualization:


    Where what you create in the world is a direct reflection of who you are.


    Where money is not the goal but the fuel for a deeper mission.


    Where status and showmanship mean nothing and skill and mastery mean everything.


    Two weeks later, I packed my bags, locked my house, kissed my girlfriend goodbye, and boarded a one-way flight with no return plan.


    I spent the next five years traveling the world, seeking and ultimately finding exactly what I was looking for…

    A higher vision for human potential, and:


    ​A higher vision for entrepreneurship.


    Today, I am finally in the early stages of teaching that vision.


    And, before I scale it to the public, my first step will be to privately coach a select group of entrepreneurs, one on one:


    Entrepreneurs who are committed to building businesses that free them from financial pressure forever so they can pursue their own higher vision.


    Entrepreneurs who are as serious about self-mastery as they are about making money.


    And, who will grow into a living example of what entrepreneurship can really be.


    I only have one spot left, before I stop accepting applications.


    ​So if you’re interested, reply today to let me know:​

    Who you are
    What business you run (include a link to your site)
    Your current monthly revenue
    Your primary goal for the business
    Why you are a good fit for coaching


    As I said yesterday, no essays:


    Be clear, efficient, and to the point.


    But also, be complete.


    I look forward to hearing from you.

    • T


    ​P.S. In case you missed it, here’s the full story on our one on one coaching program:

    ​An invitation for entrepreneurs




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  • Use the anti-calendar

    The Anti-Calendar isn’t a planner. It’s a brick through the window of what’s expected and if you go back to the 70s when the punk movement came about…

    This is punk but for your art.

    It’s a middle finger to the algorithm of what’s deemed normal in today’s society.

    You know? That greasy hamster wheel of football games, trending hashtags, and microwave relationships served on social media paper plates.

    Your art is a vampire. It doesn’t live in daylight. Doesn’t give a soggy fuck about brunch dates, Netflix binges, or whose corpse is currently propped up on the throne of pop culture.

    Your job? Feed it your time. Your rage. Your silence. Your goddamn marrow.

    Here’s an example of an Anti-Calendar…

    It’s football season? Let the normies bark at screens. You? Carve paragraphs from the static.

    New video game dropped? Your friends can grind XP. You’ll grind pigment into canvas until your hands look like a crime scene.

    Latest TV obsession? Let them simp for plot twists. Twist your own stories.

    Romance? Love is a distraction wearing a thong. Fuck it. Fuck them. Fuck everything that isn’t the work. (I learnt this the hard way recently…)

    But… (There’s always a but, like a goat head in your boot.)

    The Anti-Calendar isn’t a cult. You don’t have to live in a cave chewing on roots and your own bitterness. Burnout is a bastard with a flamethrower. So here’s the caveat… Sacrifice, don’t suffocate.

    In the beginning? You amputate distractions. Carve away the fat of other people’s priorities.

    But once your art has teeth. Once it can hunt for itself. You loosen the leash. Take a night off. Watch the game. Fuck the person. Taste the dopamine.

    Balance isn’t a sin. It’s a tactic. You’re not a machine (though machines break too.) You’re a thief, stealing time from a world that wants you numb.

    It’s about prioritising your art, cause if you the average life span is 80 years old. I don’t have many years left.

    Stephen Walker
    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • A story about Mr. Beast every entrepreneur should hear

    “People say you’re crazy until you’re successful, then they call you a genius.” – Mr. Beast

    I heard an amazing story about Mr. Beast (Jimmy) the other day:


    A story every entrepreneur should read, print onto tear-proof paper, frame and keep on their bedside table, dream about at night, tattoo on the inside of their forearm, record and listen to via. hypnotic induction, and pass down to their firstborn child as soon as they come of age, lest they ever forget its supreme wisdom.


    Here’s how it goes:


    A few months ago, Jimmy is hosting a mastermind meeting for 8, 9, and 10-figure entrepreneurs when he asks the group:


    ​”Do you guys want to go to Walmart?”


    Strange question, I know, but Jimmy is a strange dude.


    So fxck it, they go to Walmart.


    At first, it’s a standard snack run:


    Wander around, grab a few things, play bumper cars with the motorized carts, do whatever it is people do at Walmart.


    ​Until they reach the chocolate aisle, where Jimmy’s candy line, Feastables, is on display.


    That’s when Jimmy’s excitement bubbles over.


    For the next ten minutes, Jimmy launches into a masterclass on the economics of the chocolate business; margins, revenues, supply chains, the whole deal.


    While — get this…


    ​Restocking the aisle himself:


    Rearranging boxes that had been pushed out of place.


    Straightening every crooked candy bar.


    Purchasing every bar that was damaged, crinkly, or broken.


    Even letting himself into the back stocking room to grab a flavor they’d run out of up front.


    And apparently, this wasn’t a one-time thing:


    ​Jimmy does this so often that Walmart gave him his own employee badge.


    (once, he even skipped a domestic flight so he could drive and stop at all 14 Walmarts along the way)


    Now, obviously:


    That’s not a founder’s job.


    That’s not even an executive’s job.

    (to be clear, it’s not even Jimmy’s job; he doesn’t spend his days doing this, it’s just something he does when he gets the chance)


    It’s a minimum wage job 99% of entrepreneurs would barely even be aware of.


    ​But Jimmy has something 99% of entrepreneurs don’t:


    That rare blend of…

    Scrappy intensity
    Hands-on resourcefulness, and
    Fearless creativity

    …That we don’t have a word for, but is undeniable when we see it.


    One of my longest-time students, and 8-figure entrepreneur Mason Vranes simply calls it:


    “Sauce.”


    ​And yes, Jimmy got Sauce.


    But — and this is the central point — so does every entrepreneur I’ve ever met who has achieved true lift-off, and scaled their business to high 6, 7, or 8 figures.


    More than any other quality, “Sauce” is what I’m looking for as I select candidates for private, one on one business coaching.


    (announced yesterday)


    I’m looking for hungry, aggressive entrepreneurs who are willing to get their hands dirty, put their ego on the line, and take the shots others are too afraid to take.


    One of the three spots is already full, and it looks like the second spot will be filled shortly.


    Which means I likely only have one spot left.


    ​If you’re interested, hit reply now to let me know: ​

    Who you are
    What business you run (include a link to your site)
    Your current monthly revenue
    Your primary goal for the business
    Why you are a good fit for coaching

    As I said yesterday, no essays:


    Be clear, efficient, and to the point.


    But also, be complete.


    I look forward to hearing from you.

    • T


    ​P.S. If you missed it yesterday, here’s the full story on our one on one coaching program:


    ​An invitation for entrepreneurs​


    And, as a bonus:


    ​Here’s a video about Sauce​




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  • Consistency is a cult.

    Me, 16ish, dumb as a box of hair.

    Armed with a pencil chewed raw by anxiety.

    A library book titled Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain (Betty Edwards, bless her witchy soul.)

    A crippling fear of failure.

    The book’s thesis? “Learn to see.” Not with your eyes. With your guts. Shut off the left brain. The nagging, rule-obsessed nerd that screeches “HANDS DON’T LOOK LIKE THAT” and let the right brain, the feral, ink-stained beast, take over.

    How?

    Upside. The fuck. Down.

    Take a drawing. Flip it. Copy it. Suddenly, you’re not sketching a face anymore. You’re chasing lines. Shapes. Energy. The left brain short-circuits. The right brain screeches. And what comes out isn’t a potato with eyes. It’s art.

    It took 2 years of grind.

    Wake up.

    Flip the paper.

    Draw until my hand cramped and my left brain wept in a corner.

    Result? My art went from “did a 3rd grader do this?” to “holy shitballs, sell this to a museum”. I’d hacked the matrix. Found the cheat code.

    Writing emails? Building a list? Same. Damn. Game.

    You think you can dabble? Post when the “muse” whispers? Wrong. The internet’s a hungry beast. Skip a day, and it licks its chops. Skip a week, and your audience? Gone. Vaporised. A post-apocalyptic wasteland of unopened emails.

    THE RULES:

    Write. Every. Day.

    Send. Every. Day.

    Even when it feels like squeezing diamonds out of your urethra.

    Especially then…

    Doing anything consistently is key. Drawing. Painting. Writing emails and telling people to join your list. Do that shit every single day.

    Stephen Walker

    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • Start your list. Here’s why…

    You’re not a “creative,” you say? Bullshit.

    Everyone’s creative. Somewhere deep in that skull-cave of yours, there’s a spark. A glimmer. A half-formed thought that smells like burnt toast and desperation…

    Start an email list.

    Why? Because social media is a goddamn carnival of lies. It’s all filters, flexes, and false fronts. Everyone’s curating their highlight reel while their soul rots in the background.

    Email? Email is intimate. Raw. Real. It’s a one-on-one conversation in a world that’s screaming at you from every direction.

    Still not convinced? Let me break it down for you in a list (because lists are life)

    It’s a Diary, but with Benefits.

    Think of it as your personal confessional. A place to dump your thoughts, your fears, your weird little obsessions. Did you eat an entire rotisserie chicken for breakfast? Write about it. Did you cry in the shower because you saw a dog wearing a raincoat? Write about that, too. No one’s judging you here.

    Intimacy is the New Currency.

    Social media is like shouting into a void. Email is like whispering in someone’s ear. It’s personal. It’s direct. It’s the kind of connection that makes people feel seen. And guess what? People love feeling seen.

    No Algorithms, No Bullshit.

    You know what’s great about email? It doesn’t give a fuck about algorithms. Your words land in someone’s inbox, not buried under 47 ads for protein powder and toe fungus cream.

    It’s Yours. All Yours.

    Social media platforms can ban you, shadow-ban you, or just straight-up disappear. Your email list? That’s your kingdom. No one can take it away from you.

    Build Trust, Not Followers.

    Followers are fickle. Trust is forever. When you write honestly, openly, and vulnerably, you build trust. And trust? That’s the foundation of everything.

    Still here? Good. Here’s a little side thought:

    You don’t have to be a writer. You just have to be you. Authenticity is the secret sauce. Write like you talk. Write like you’re ranting to a friend over a bottle of cheap wine. Write like you’re leaving a note for your future self.

    So, what are you waiting for?

    Start that email list. Treat it like a diary, a blog, a therapy session. Build those intimate connections in a world that’s drowning in noise.

    And hey, if you’re still not convinced, just remember this…

    The only thing worse than starting is not starting at all.

    Now go. Write. Be messy. Be honest. Be you.

    (And if you need help, hit me up. I’ve got wine and a keyboard. We’ll figure this shit out together.)

    Stephen Walker

    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

    P.S. The squirrels have started to get the hint that they need to build a list now too…

    P.P.S. If you’re still reading this, you’re already halfway there. Don’t overthink it. Just do it.

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • A parasite

    In 2020 Netflix released Korean black comedy called parasite.

    “The struggling Kim family sees an opportunity when the son starts working for the wealthy Park family. Soon, all of them find a way to work within the same household and start living a parasitic life.”

    It was a wild ride. Twists and turns you wouldn’t believe and it got me thinking.

    (Especially after I’ve had a few shots of tequila)

    As a writer I need to remember this:

    “Your prose is a parasite. (Let it eat your enemies)

    We all have stories we’re nursing like a back-alley stab wound.

    The one that pulses with your DNA, your trauma, your weird obsession with sentient mold?

    Someone will read it and recoil like you’ve force-fed them a McRib smoothie.

    Good. Let them choke.

    And so I sit here and look at what Art is and realise it’s not a consensus. Your job isn’t to be liked. Your job is to be a feral little goblin hurling your truth into the world.

    There’s some dirty and accurate math in the world when it comes to being a person who pens words for a living…

    For every person who calls your work “a revelation”, there’s another who’ll hiss, “This reads like a chatbot fucked a CVS receipt.”

    Your dialogue? To some, it’s Sorkin-sharp. To others, a drunken Morse code.

    Your metaphors? Either “Kafka in a waffle house” or “What the fuck is a ‘soul-tarantula’?”

    Your climax? A fireworks show of feels or a wet fart in a library.

    There is no cure for taste. Only survivors.

    Whether you’re painting, writing or composing anything musical. Haters are gonna hate and you need to weaponise that hate.

    Treat your work like it’s some kind of bioweapon

    You’re not writing. You’re infecting…

    Mutate aggressively. Let your prose ooze. Let it sprout tentacles. Let it be the literary equivalent of that one unkillable office cold.

    Resist the antidote. Beta readers say “tone it down”? Ignore them. “Tone” is for church choirs and LinkedIn posts. You’re here to scream.

    Outlive the host. Your story will outlast its critics. The Roman Empire fell. Fifty Shades did not.

    Collect bad reviews like war trophies…

    Frame them. Wear them as armour. Let them fuel your spite-engine.

    “This author should be banned from vowels.” Good. You’ve weaponised the alphabet.

    “I’d rather French-kiss a woodchipper.” Better. You’ve earned a sensory experience.

    “Not even my therapist could unpack this.” Best. You’ve broken someone’s brain.

    High fives all around…

    Your voice isn’t supposed to be palatable. Palateable is for yogurt and politicians.

    Write like a werewolf on espresso. Teeth out. Grammar butchered. Let the words howl.

    Marinate in your niche. Love cryptid erotica? Write a love triangle between Bigfoot, a GPS, and a disgraced rodeo clown. Own it.

    Fuck the “universal.”

    The universal is a McDonalds cheeseburger. You’re a durian fruit. Polarising. Pungent. Perfect.

    February is here and I want to inspire you to just go absolutely mental at your craft.

    Go all in. Go insane. Create work that’ll make everyone look at you as if you’re losing your mind.

    Control the chaos. Not the crowd.

    Write like the world’s ending tomorrow and you’ve got one last middle finger to launch into universe.

    And when the thinkpieces come? When the Twitter-threads bloom like mold in a frat-house shower? Laugh. Laugh until you cough up a lung.

    Because you? You’re not here to be good.

    You’re here to be unforgettable.

    Stephen Walker
    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

    P.S. I’ve put the tequila down and I’m going for a walk out in the fresh cold. These projects aren’t going to finish themselves…

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • 3 weekend recommendations | 31.1.25

    “Our minds are hurt more often by overeating than by hunger.” – Petrarch

    Happy Friday.


    I’m back home in snowy Canada after a long month away, running plant medicine retreats in Costa Rica and Peru.

    There is a lot to catch up on, but a lot of fresh inspiration as well…

    …Including inspiration for a brand new project for entrepreneurs, that I may announce early next week.

    In the meantime, a few recs for your weekend:


    ​The State of The Tao: 2025​

    My first QiGong teacher, Taoist Master Bruce Frantzis, writes an annual report on the underlying energy of the year.

    And so far, his readings have always proved accurate for me.

    Note, this isn’t based on fu-fu astrology or picking new-age cards out of a deck.

    The Taoists have spent thousands of years developing sophisticated systems for tracking currents of energy:

    Internally, globally, and beyond.

    Enjoy.


    ​How To Build Your Day – Huberman & Waitzkin​


    Great clip from Huberman Lab on how to design personalized daily routines for maximum performance and productivity.

    The MIQ principle Waitzkin talks about early in the clip is especially valuable.


    ​The Intellectual Obesity Crisis by Gurwinder Bhogal​


    How and why “information addiction is rotting our brains.”

    Well worth reading if you’re a human being living on planet earth in the 21st century.

    (credit to this article for the quote at the top of today’s email)


    ​BONUS: Vikings​


    Hot damn this show slaps.

    Here’s a note about the main character I shared with our Path members, earlier this week:

    ​“Power is only given to those who are prepared to lower themselves to pick it up.” – Ragnar Lothbrook
    ​​
    The beauty of the Ragnar Lothbrook character, similar to Tommy Shelby in Peaky Blinders, is that his ego does not get in the way of the mission.

    He is willing to look bad in the eyes of others, to put himself beneath others, to allow others to temporarily feel like they’re above him and to give them a sense of false superiority.

    When others are simply trying to win the next hand, he is willing to sacrifice it in order to win the game 5 moves later.


    That’s a wrap.

    Have an amazing weekend over there, and I’ll see you back here on Monday.

    (and remember, if you’re an entrepreneur — keep a close eye on your inbox…)

    • T


    P.S. A message for surviving in the age of AI…​


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  • Be cringe. Be kind. Be bored. Be bad at stuff.

    Let’s be clear right off of the rip.

    The internet used to be a playground for humans.

    Now?

    It’s a portfolio-packed dystopia of performative flexing.

    Everyone’s a CEO, a guru, a brand. (Boring. Exhausting. Lies.)

    We’ve turned social media into work media, and now the planet’s drowning in LinkedIn posts that taste like burnt toast and despair.

    We need to get back to doing things badly and loving it.

    Sing loud in your car. Off-key. To ABBA. Let the guy in the next lane judge you.

    Bake bread that looks like a deflated football. Post the photo captioned “Feast your eyes on my cement loaf. DM for recipe.”

    Dance alone in socks on a Friday afternoon. No reels. No hashtags. Just bad moves and good vibes.

    Fail publicly…

    Your sourdough starter died? Perfect.

    Your garden’s 90% dandelions? Art.

    Did your kid’s “science fair project” involve glitter explosions and a small fire? Frame that shit.

    We’ve forgotten how to celebrate attempts instead of achievements.

    Screw perfection. Give me stories about burned casseroles and Zoom calls where your cat barfed on the keyboard.

    Reclaim the world social…

    Social media isn’t your client’s billboard. It’s supposed to be… social. Swap the humblebrags for humble human

    “Here’s me eating cereal for dinner because adulting is fake.”

    “Folded laundry! (It’s in a heap. I’m calling it abstract art.)”

    “Found this rock. It’s my friend now. #Rockstagram”

    Yes, your job matters. But you aren’t your job.

    You’re a chaotic spark plug of niche hobbies, 3am thoughts, and questionable life choices.

    So share the mess. The weird. The nothing.

    The world’s on fire. Algorithms are eating our joy.

    So let’s all agree to stop commodifying our humanity and start smashing the “aesthetic” with a sledgehammer of authenticity.

    Be cringe. Be kind. Be bored. Be bad at stuff.

    The revolution is just an unmade bed, a half-finished crossword, and you. Flawed, glorious, alive.

    Now go touch grass. Literally.

    And don’t go gently into the weekend.

    Stephen Walker

    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

    P.S. Gonna be doing some drawing and painting again after taking a very long break from it. So at least the squirrels will leave me alone…

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
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  • John Doe’s box of horrors…

    PRE-EMPTIVE SPOILER WARNING (AKA “THE ETHICS CLAUSE YOU’LL IGNORE BUT SHOULDN’T”)

    This email is written like a rabid squirrel on espresso to mimic the greasy-fingered, soul-sucking tactics of marketers who treat humans like ATMs with hair.

    The profanity? The aggression? The deliciously manipulative structure? That’s the point.

    It’s a funhouse mirror.

    A warning and not a blueprint…

    If you use these sins to manipulate instead of serve, you’re not a marketer. You’re a carny running a rigged game where the goldfish die.

    Don’t be the asshole. Don’t be John Doe. Got a product that’s better? A service that doesn’t taste like despair?

    Then your moral imperative is to shout it loud. Hoarding ethical goods is a sin too. Let them choose. Let them breathe.

    But don’t cry when karma serves your head in a box.

    Now. Let’s dance with the devil but only if he signs a consent form first…

    SE7EN DEADLY MARKETING LESSONS

    So. You wanna be John Doe?

    You wanna crawl inside the meat-puppet skulls of your audience and play their dopamine receptors like a demonic kazoo.

    Let’s talk about the 1995 Seven.

    The one where Morgan Freeman’s detective aura battles Brad Pitt’s bone structure and a killer who’s really into moral arts and crafts. The seven sins. The box. The flies. The what’s-in-the-fucking-box scream-whisper of capitalism or whatever.

    I’ve said this in many forms over the years if you’ve been paying attention…

    Marketing is just sin-jujitsu. You take their worst impulses and twist.

    Let’s break it down like a ribcage full of razorblades…

    Lust

    You don’t sell shoes. You sell foot-fetish fuel. You don’t hawk perfume. You sell the throat-punch memory of your ex’s neck sweat. Make them thirst. Tease. “Click to uncover.”

    Lust isn’t about sex. It’s about the gap between what they have and what they itch to have. Leave them panting at the edge of the “Buy Now” button.

    Gluttony

    Feed them till they burst. More content. More deals. More MORE. Autoplay. Suggested for you. “People who bought this also bought a fragment of their own soul.” Gluttony isn’t about satisfaction. It’s about the ritual of consumption. Cram their cart. Stuff their notifications. Watch them chew through subscriptions like a starved rat eating its way through your stomach as the bucket gets hotter and hotter…

    Greed

    Limited stock. Countdown timers. “Only 3 left!” (There’s 3000 left. You monster.) Greed isn’t currency. It’s panic. The fear that someone else will get their treasure. Turn buyers into dragons hoarding plastic trinkets. “Exclusive access.” “VIP tiers.” “You deserve this.” (Spoiler: They don’t. But fuck it, neither do you.)

    Sloth

    One-click purchases. Pre-filled forms. “Skip the tutorial.” Sloth isn’t laziness. It’s impatience weaponised. Reduce every decision to a reflex. Autofill their lives. “Subscribe and never think again.” They’ll thank you while their muscles atrophy into pudding.

    Wrath

    Hot take: Outrage is glue. Pick a side. Any side. Make them angry at the other side. “Don’t let THEM win.” Wrath isn’t conflict. It’s loyalty. Unite your tribe against a common enemy (real or imagined). Sell pitchforks and torches. Market share = war territory.

    Envy

    Stage the perfect life. Curated imperfection. “Look what THEY have.” Envy isn’t wanting. It’s comparison as self-harm. Filter. Retouch. Highlight reels. User-generated content which is free labour. Turn followers into stalkers. Make their neighbours’ grass literally greener. (Did they use spray paint?)

    Pride

    “You’re special.” “Be legendary.” “Treat yourself.” Pride isn’t confidence. It’s narcissism monetised. Sell them their own reflection, polished and pixel-perfect. Premium memberships. Gold-plated USB cords. “Because you’re worth it.”

    Here’s how you can be the antidote…

    The seven sins aren’t shackles. They’re mirrors. Stare into them long enough, and you’ll see the rot. Or the redemption.

    Marketing isn’t inherently evil. Humans are. (Mostly.) But here’s the secret they don’t sell in your $2000 “Dark Lord Funnel” course.

    Good shit sells itself…

    Flip the sins.

    Lust → Passion. Make them crave your product like it’s the last spark in a wet matchbook.

    Gluttony → Abundance. Overflow with value till they’re drunk on trust.

    Greed → Generosity. Give so much they feel guilty not buying.

    Sloth → Ease. Remove friction, not dignity.

    Wrath → Courage. Fight for them, not against “enemies.”

    Envy → Aspiration. Make them want to be better, not bitter.

    Pride → Purpose. Let them buy into a legacy, not a lie.

    Be the cure. The unapologetic, neon-bright alternative to the vultures picking at society’s bones.

    Market like your product could save a life. Because maybe it does. Maybe it’s insulin. Maybe it’s art. Maybe it’s just a really fucking good taco.

    Stephen Walker
    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

    P.S. Go check out Seven if you haven’t. It’s wild and the twist gets me every time.

    If you’re not diggin’ these tasty little emails anymore you can hit the unsubscribe button right here >>> unsubscribe

    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • Lessons from the Darkness (Part 2)

    “When we have no choice but to become greater, we do.”

    As we said on Monday:


    Darkness — pain, suffering, trauma, fear, doubt, anxiety, illness, disease — is not scary.


    Darkness is not scary; fear of darkness is scary.


    Darkness uses fear as it’s power source, weaponizing our imagination against us.


    Remove the fear, remove the power, and darkness dissolves on it’s own.


    Which brings us to Part 2:


    ​How do we stop fearing the darkness?


    The answer:


    ​Use it productively.


    When a negative is used to create a positive, the negative itself becomes a positive.


    So our strategy is simple:


    ​Find the benefit hiding in the darkness, and turn it to our advantage.


    (as a teacher once told me… if you’re living with a demon, have it make your coffee in the morning)


    And there is perhaps no greater benefit to the darkness than this:

    When the darkness closes in, when our back is against the ropes and heavy blows are raining down…


    ​…When we have no choice but to find a deeper well of strength to pull from and fight back…


    …We do.


    We find our deeper strength, strength that hides under the surface when life is smooth and easy, waiting until the day we need it.


    A well of strength that, once accessed, can be accessed again.


    Strength that can be pulled from for the rest of our lives.


    ​Yes, darkness makes us stronger.


    Because when the bar is about to crush us, we lift it.


    When the tiger is at our heels, we run faster.


    And, when we have no choice but to become greater, we do.

    • T


    ​P.S. In case you missed it:

    ​This clip pairs perfectly with today’s email.



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  • Your voice is a shape shifting demon.

    Voice is always an interesting topic that rears its ugly head in the writer community.

    It’s not the kind you use to order tacos or argue with your cat though…

    A writing voice is what I’m talking about.

    That slippery fucker that’s either hiding under your bed dressed as Kafka, or screaming through a megaphone as a knockoff Tarantino.

    You’ve been told to “find it” like it’s car keys.

    The thing is though. Your voice isn’t lost. It’s just buried under all the bullshit they taught you in school, the trauma of middle school book reports, and that one tweet that went viral and made you question your entire existence.

    Murder your heroes.

    Your voice isn’t hiding. It’s smothered under the wet blanket of every author you’ve ever aped.

    Love Neil Gaiman? Great. Now write a paragraph in his style, then set it on fire. Watch it burn.

    What’s left in the ashes? That’s your shit. That’s the DNA.

    This is a big one in the copywriting world…

    Talk like a human, not a thesaurus.

    You’re not writing a Renaissance Faire scroll. If you’d say “this sandwich tastes like a foot,” don’t write “the gastronomic experience evoked podiatric undertones.” Stop that shit.

    You have to look at writing as if you’re confessing to the page.

    Write a secret you’ve never told anyone. The time you stole, lied, licked a battery.

    Doesn’t matter. Burn it after. The point is to vomit raw you onto the page, no filters, no “but what will grandma think?”

    Embrace your inner cringe-lord

    Your voice is cringe.

    Good.

    Cringe is the mold that grows on the authentic.

    The world doesn’t need another polished pebble.

    It needs your jagged, broken-glass laugh.

    Write drunk, edit sober (metaphorically)

    Write a sex scene where the real monster is awkwardness. A hero who picks their nose. A villain who just wants to nap. Let it be messy. Let it be embarrassing.

    Steal your own life…

    That time you got dumped at a water park?

    The way your dad hums showtunes while doing taxes?

    The intrusive thought about licking a subway pole?

    Harvest it. Marinate in your own weird.

    Write a Yelp review in the voice of a Victorian ghost. Rewrite the Starbucks menu as a Norse epic. Scream into the void until the void screams back in your accent.

    Voice isn’t born. It’s built.

    From the corpses of everyone and everything you’ve ever loved, hated, or doomscrolled past.

    Make a toxic smoothie.

    Blend Toni Morrison with your group chat.

    Shakespeare with shitposting.

    Twilight fanfic with Cormac McCarthy.

    Drink it. If it doesn’t make you hallucinate, add more tabasco.

    Use your tics.

    Do you default to sarcasm? Poetry? Rambling footnotes that overexplain like a nervous wizard (guilty?)

    Lean in. Double down. Make your tics a style.

    Borrow voices like a library book.

    Write a scene as a noir detective. Then as a bored teen. Then as a sentient Roomba. Take what clicks. Burn the rest.

    Your voice isn’t a static thing. It’s a feral thing.

    A werewolf. A sentient stain. It’ll shapeshift. But you gotta stop apologising for it.

    Kill the right way.

    Grammar rules? Fuck ‘em when needed.

    Plot structure? Throw it into a woodchipper.

    Write a chapter as a grocery list. A battle scene in emojis. A love story in spam emails.

    Go niche or go home.

    Love body horror? Write a rom-com where the third act twist is a parasitic twin.

    Obsessed with baking? Make a thriller about sentient sourdough.

    Your voice thrives in specificity, not “universal appeal.”

    Argue with yourself. Write a manifesto about why your voice matters.

    Then write a counter-manifesto calling it pretentious garbage. Let them fight. Winner gets the crown.

    Voice isn’t found. It’s claimed.

    Through blood, bad drafts, and the humility of realising your “genius” sounds like a mime cosplaying Hemingway.

    Write until it hurts. Then write more. Finish the story. Let it suck. Let it be a first pancake that’s burnt, lumpy and glorious.

    Test it in the wild. Read it aloud to your dog. Post a snippet anonymously. Watch people call it “deranged.” Good. Deranged is a brand.

    Kill the clone army. Stop comparing your voice to anyone else’s. Margaret Atwood didn’t write The Handmaid’s Taleby asking, “But is this vibey enough for BookTok?”

    Your voice isn’t in the woods. It’s in the wound. The one you keep poking to see if it’s still there.

    Stop looking for it. Use it. Write like you’re carving your name into a prison wall.

    Write like the rent’s due and the devil’s knocking.

    Write like no one’s listening, because that’s the only way they ever will.

    The demon’s hungry. Feed it your fear.

    Or don’t.

    But if you don’t, you’re just another ghost that’ll die on an unread page.

    Stephen Walker

    http://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • Flesh Monsters, Anxiety Meds, and You: A Love Story (Unsubscribe Now or Suffer)

    YOU’RE HUNGRY.

    Not the oh-shit-I-forgot-lunch kind of hungry.

    The kind that gnaws.

    The kind that starts in your gut and climbs your spine like a rat with a meat cleaver.

    You haven’t eaten in three days.

    Not since the power grid coughed up a hairball and died.

    Not since the cucumbers in the fridge started screaming.

    (You don’t question the screaming cucumbers anymore. You just leave the kitchen. Fast.)

    Here’s the thing about the end of the world…

    It’s boring. Apocalypses aren’t fireworks and leather-clad cannibals on flaming Harleys…

    Nope, they’re this:

    Day 1: Your kid fills a Tupperware with dead ladybugs, calls it “soup.”

    Day 2: You drink hand sanitiser. (The raspberry kind. Classy.)

    Day 3: You Google “can rage cure lactose intolerance” while your ex blows up your phone with texts like ”u still alive???”

    The baby monitor crackles. Static, then a wet gurgle. You pretend it’s nothing.

    (Spoiler: It’s never nothing. This isn’t a Hallmark movie. This is David Cronenberg directing an infomercial for baby monitors.)

    You stumble upstairs.

    Big mistake…

    The nursery door’s ajar.

    Inside… Crib bars bent like liquorice twists. The air smells of burnt honey and regret.

    And there, in the corner. Your kid.

    Except their skin’s peeling off in ribbon-curls, pink and shiny as raw chicken.

    Their eyes? Two oily marbles.

    Their mouth? A wet hole full of teeth that aren’t theirs.

    “Mommy,” it says.

    (Or the thing wearing your kid’s voice like a skinsuit says.)

    “I’m hungry too.”

    LET’S PAUSE.

    Because here’s the secret they don’t tell you in those shitty self-help books

    (Looking at you, ”Apocalypse for Dummies”)

    You don’t get to be the hero. Heroes bathe in sunlight and have moral compasses sharper than a vegan’s eyeliner.

    You? You’ve got…

    A half-empty bottle of Xanax (circa 2019, vintage)

    A crowbar named “Mr. Cuddles.”

    A love for your kid that feels less like warmth and more like swallowing a lit sparkler.

    You choose the sparkler.

    THE THING THAT ISN’T YOUR KID lunges.

    You swing Mr. Cuddles. It screeches. A sound like a thousand Instagram influencers discovering they’re all wearing the same outfit.

    The crowbar sticks. Of course it does. The thing’s flesh parts like warm brie.

    “Fuck,” you say.

    And then, louder… “FUCK.”

    Because parenting pamphlets never mentioned this.

    (Your Child: Demonic Possession and You! – Free with coupon.)

    It lunges again. You dodge. The Xanax bottle rattles in your pocket like a tiny ghost.

    Take me, it whispers. Swallow the whole damn thing and nap through the rapture.

    But you…

    (Wait. Hold on. Let’s talk craft for a sec. You’re writing a protagonist here. Give them agency. Make them choose. Not a saint, not a demon. A person. A person who’d sell their soul for Wi-Fi and eats grief like it’s gas station sushi. Got it? Good. Now back to the screaming.)

    …you grab the Xanax. Not to swallow. To bait. You shake the pills like maracas.

    “C’mon, you little sphincter-waffle. Dinner’s served.”

    The thing hesitates. (Even monsters get anxious, pal…)

    You throw the pills down its throat. It chokes. Gags. Its skin bubbles like nacho cheese in a meth lab.

    Then POP

    It explodes.

    The aftermath? Chunks. Everywhere. One lands in your hair. It whispers, ”Mommy…”

    You pluck it out. Flick it into the ruins of the crib. “Call me Mother,” you say. Because boundaries matter.

    Then comes the epilogue:

    You sit on the porch. The sky’s the colour of a bruised avocado. Your phone dings. It’s your ex… ”u good???”

    You type back ”Peachy. Kids are hard.”

    The sun rises. Or maybe it’s a wildfire. Either way, you light a cigarette with a shaking hand and laugh. Because what’s next?

    Who the fuck knows.

    But you’ll choose it.

    (And if you don’t? Well, fuck it. There’s always hand sanitiser to wash it down with.)

    Now if you stuck it to the end.

    This is what I get up to during the day while inhaling every bit of caffeine possible, when I don’t have adult responsibilities and the weather is absolutely god awful.

    Semi-horror-apocalyptic short story ideas scribbled down in a notepad, followed by sending it to my editor who will tell me if it’s a good idea to write out fully and make it thing.

    Nothing too crazy and something I’m focusing more on in the future.

    So if you see me plugging a collection of horror shorts. I’m trying to knock Stephen King and Dean Koontz off of the top spot.

    Stephen Walker

    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • Sitting for ideas

    Back in 287-212 BCE, our boy Archimedes of Syracuse was famously associated with having insights while having a bath.

    According to the well-known story, he discovered a method for determining the purity of gold while taking a bath.

    He noticed that water displaced when he entered corresponded to his body’s volume, leading to his principle of displacement.

    The story goes that he was so excited by this discovery that he ran naked through the streets shouting “Eureka!” (meaning “I have found it!” in Greek)

    Now I’m not going to be running through the streets naked anytime soon.

    (I don’t want you to have to gauge your eyes out with a rusty spoon, I mean it’s not even February yet…)

    But it dawned on me that myself and a few creatives use this “Sitting for ideas” thing to well, come up with new ideas.

    And in a nutshell it’s you either soaking in the bath or having a nice long shower.

    Or if you’re out for a walk or a nice long hike, the brain does this magical thing where it just starts to come up with solutions for problems you might have.

    Or gives you a metric fudge-ton of ideas to play with.

    It’s how I came about writing this email today.

    I had to venture out into the wild and bare knuckle box my way to the back of the milk isle.

    Fighting off old people looking for milk that doesn’t expire for at least 3 weeks.

    All before 9 am

    All before my first coffee…

    Which brings me to my next soap box message which applies to what I’ve just written.

    Writer’s block is the biggest scam since someone tried to sell me decaf coffee.

    You know that feeling when you sit down to write and your brain suddenly decides to perform its one-act play called “I Have Never Had An Original Thought In My Life And Never Will Again”?

    That’s not writer’s block. That’s your brain being a melodramatic teenager who just discovered existentialism.

    Writer’s block is like your cat sitting on your keyboard.

    It’s not actually stopping you from writing, it’s just being an attention-seeking asshole.

    But if you combo together long walks, long soaks or even washing the dishes by hand, your brain will automagically come up with ideas and thoughts and that’s where you can pull from.

    Writers block is just procrastination in a trench coat and the quickest way to kick its ass is to do what I suggested above.

    Now if you’ll excuse me.

    I’m gonna go soak in the bath.

    Stephen Walker

    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • February better watch its back

    January.

    That temporal dumpster fire that felt like it lasted approximately 74 years while simultaneously disappearing faster than my will to wear pants.

    Let’s be honest…

    January was rougher than gas station coffee. It came in hot with its “new year, new me” propaganda, then proceeded to throw more plot twists.

    February is our redemption arc.

    January was the tutorial level. The warm-up act. The coffee before the coffee. Now we’re entering what I like to call “The Reality Check Reality Show”

    Where we either double down on our goals or admit we’ve been lying to ourselves harder than when we say “just one more chapter” at 3 AM.

    More writing

    Less procrastination

    Increased caffeine efficiency

    Decreased time spent watching squirrels plot against me

    January Goals: Finish the novel, get fit, achieve yoda-like enlightenment

    February Goals: Write SOMETHING, don’t die, keep plants alive (ish)

    Every day is a new chance to write

    Every word count is a middle finger to resistance

    Every cup of coffee is fuel for the revolution

    Every squirrel is still suspicious

    Stephen Walker

    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

    P.S. Yes, I wrote this without pants while planning February’s creative assault.

    P.P.S. January was just the practice run. February is where we start playing for keeps.

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    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • Build it and they will come

    I get this asked on occasion and it’s nothing new.

    And a lot of people who start off, believe they can build whatever it is they want and people will come.

    Yes, that can happen but it’s unlikely and it’s making you rely on luck, instead of proven principles.

    Now remember this. I didn’t invent what I’m about to share. The only thing I’ve done is take the old timely principles and kept doing it over and over until I got it to work.

    Granted things change in the social media world. Most of these principles stay the same.

    So if I were new to this whole game I would tell myself to look around and find problems that keep people up at night.

    The internet makes it super easy nowadays…

    Old forums. Facebook groups. Reddit. Twitter, Quora, Medium, LinkedIn or Pinterest are good places to start.

    Step two would be to use those same places to find out where solutions can be found as well.

    Remember, people talk.

    There will be books, products or even people providing services that solve those problems.

    When I’ve found a few, I’d buy the products, especially if they are information products and go through them.

    If they can be improved or paired with something else. I’d go and do that. This is the bit that would take a little time.

    Once I’ve done that, now I’m ready.

    I can create a variation of that solution, and possibly pair it up with someone who also provides a service.

    We’d strike a deal and if I brought them a new customer, they’d give me a percentage of what they charge.

    Now that I’ve got all of that in place. I can get to work.

    I have a problem. I have a solution and now I just need to get the people to pick my solution over the others out there.

    So I’d create a single-page website, similar to the one you clicked on to jump on my list. I’d talk about the problem and make it a little worse by pouring salt on the wound. I’d make them genuinely curious about fixing this problem and even offer a snippet of the solution if they give me their email address in turn.

    This will partially scratch their itch.

    Once I’ve got them on my email list. I’ll talk to them about the problem. Tell stories in various forms and if they really want to get rid of that problem, give them the opportunity to buy from me as well. I would write to them every day and continue to add other solutions to that problem. They get what they want. I get what I want and that’s all she wrote.

    That’s it…

    It sounds complicated but it’s not.

    Find a problem

    Find a solution

    Find out where people hang out who need that solution

    Use direct response principles to get them to have a look at your one-page website

    Give them a taste

    Grab their email

    Email them daily and give them the opportunity to buy.

    Done.

    Once you get a few sales and make a few bucks, you now have the easiest little side business that you can scale up.

    It’s fun, it genuinely helps people and this can all be done by not wearing any pants at all.

    Stephen Walker

    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • The worst bj ever

    And no. I’m talking about today when Mother Nature decided to give me the worst blow job of my life, and no, not THAT kind…

    Get your minds out of the gutter (where, coincidentally, I nearly ended up.)

    Let me paint you a picture of pure British meteorological insanity:

    There I was, strutting out of my house like some discount-bin protagonist, thinking I was the main character in my own story.

    (NARRATOR: He was not…)

    He was, in fact, about to become the comic relief in Mother Nature’s slapstick morning special.

    The wind.

    Holy shit-whistles, THE WIND. It wasn’t just blowing, it was conducting a full-scale aerial assault on my dignity.

    Picture a leaf blower operated by a caffeinated raccoon with a vendetta. That kind of wind.

    And then it happened.

    My body. All 187 pounds of sleep-deprived writer meat, got caught in what can only be described as Nature’s version of a mosh pit. I spun like a hamster wheel powered by pure panic and yesterday’s poor life choices.

    My arms? Windmilling like a Wacky Waving Inflatable Tube Man having an melt down.

    The finale? My ass made sweet, passionate contact with the pavement.

    But wait! There’s more! (Sorry Billy Mays)

    My neighbour.

    Let’s call her Margaret (because that’s her actual name and at this point, why protect the witnesses?) had front-row seats to this slip of shame. There she was, about to take her dog for a walk and probably out to fight her way to the freshest milk bottled at the local shop before 8 am, when she got the morning entertainment she never asked for.

    The worst part? She didn’t even try to hide her laughter. Just stood there, dog roaring to go, cackling like a hyena who just discovered Netflix comedy specials.

    And there’s a lesson in this here email…

    1. Writers turn trauma into content (it’s literally in the job description)
    2. Someone needs to warn you about the UK’s secret weapon of mass humiliation (Wind for the next few days…)
    3. My dignity was already gone, might as well get some engagement out of it

    Rating: 0/10 – Would not recommend getting physically dominated by British weather while your neighbour watches.

    Stephen Walker

    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

    P.S: To all those who clicked thinking this was about something else, you’re part of the problem, and I respect that.

    P.P.S: Margaret, if you’re reading this, I saw you record it. We need to talk about royalties.

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • This dude makes nails look soft.

    “When I bite down on this mouthpiece, ohhhh boy, I make nails look soft.” – Dan Hooker

    I was just listening to an interview with UFC Lightweight and full-time BMF Dan Hooker.


    It went something like this…


    Dan: “At first, all I wanted from fighting was money. Now all I want is a world championship.”


    Interviewer: “What made you want a world championship more than you want money?”


    Dan: “I made money.”


    Dan’s point:


    ​The easiest way to transcend a lower motivation is not to deny it exists, but to satisfy it.


    True; money, status and pleasure are only level one.


    But the way to level two is through level one, and for most of us, it’s the only way.


    So my (uncommon) advice is this:


    If you want to get rich, get rich.


    If you want to hook up, hook up (responsibly, honestly, unapologetically).


    If you want to chase pleasure and status and shiny sh*t, get running.


    ​Play level one full-tilt.


    But while you do, keep an eye out for level two.


    And, when level one gets old…


    …Don’t get sad, depressed, or existential.


    Get excited.


    The game is about to get even better.

    • T


    ​P.S. The obvious disclaimer:


    Don’t lie, cheat, or steal. Try not to hurt anyone, including yourself. Stay in school. Wear protection. Don’t do drugs unless you absolutely, positively want to. Common sense not sold separately.


    And, whatever you do, don’t do anything until you’ve watched this video.



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  • Death by dopapmine

    Picture this…

    You’re lying in bed, chest tight like you’re being crushed by a metric ton of unread notifications, skin doing that weird clammy-not-clammy thing like you’ve just mainlined eight espressos and fat line of regret. Your phone’s throwing numbers at you faster than an accountant having a mental breakdown…

    Likes. Comments. Shares. Retweets. Hearts. Stars. Little thumbs-up symbols that mean absolutely fucking nothing but somehow mean EVERYTHING. (Damn subtext-emoji-whatevers)

    We’ve become social media slot machine addicts, pulling the content lever over and over, hoping for that sweet hit of validation. It’s like running through sewers barefoot while checking your Instagram analytics. Painful, pointless, and probably giving you diseases science hasn’t named yet.

    And as much as I love the allure of social media platforms. My main game for 2025 is to get people into my own little world.

    Which is this here list you’re on and/or the group I run on Facebook

    I’ve always been an email guy though and that’s why I try and convert everyone with a creative bone to my wicked writer-ly ways…

    Why?

    Email is honest. No algorithms playing emotional puppet master, no fake engagement from bot farms and no squirrels monitoring my social media activity (okay, maybe some squirrels)

    Email is intimate. Just me, you, and whatever latte inspired anarchy I’m spewing that day. There’s no performance arts for the algorithm gods and no desperate attempts to game the system.

    Most importantly. Email is mine.

    No platform can take it away, no terms of service changes can nuke my audience cause I back it up often (I learnt that the hard way) and no A.I. overlord is deciding who sees what.

    So here I am, showing up in your inbox daily like a pal and because quality beats quantity like coffee beats sleep.

    Stephen Walker

    P.S. Yes, I wrote this without pants while ignoring all my social media notifications and incoming message pings.

    If you’re not diggin’ these tasty little emails anymore you can hit the unsubscribe button right here >>> unsubscribe

    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • Infatuated with someone you just met?

    “Why did she have to happen? Just when I was doing so good without her.” – Hunter S. Thompson

    A Path member recently asked:

    “How do I deal with feeling infatuated with a girl I just met? I want to play it cool but I can’t shake this strong feeling of infatuation that wants to be expressed.”


    (anybody relate?)


    Here’s what I replied:


    ​Notice the feeling but do not express it.


    You just met her, which means she has not earned your infatuation yet.


    And expressing a feeling she hasn’t earned signals a lack of standards, which will send her running for the hills.


    Of course, you can and should express interest, but only in a light-hearted, low-stakes way.

    Your energy should say:

    “I don’t know you very well but it feels like there might be something here and it would be cool to find out.”

    Not:

    “Ohmg you’re amazzzing I remember you from a past life. Can I wear your skin as a coat?”

    Because:


    ​Infatuation is not love, it is an attachment pattern.


    And the part of you that is infatuated is the part of you that will get in the way of your ability to love skillfully.


    So, when you feel infatuation arise:


    Notice the feeling.


    Notice what that feeling wants you to say or do.


    ​Then, don’t do it.


    Instead, keep your interactions relaxed, fun and light.


    As you observe your infatuation without allowing it to drive your behaviour, it will begin to transform into a healthier, more mature pattern.


    And that healthy, mature pattern will set the stage for a healthy, mature relationship.

    That’s what I said in our Path community.

    But here are a few more quick, tactical ideas that are coming to mind as I write this:

    1. When strong feelings arise, relax your body.

      A relaxed body creates a relaxed mind which creates relaxed interactions.
    2. Talk to more people.

      The more options you have, the less power any one option has over you.

    Yes, commit to one person when the relationship becomes exclusive, or you both develop real feelings for each other — but not before.

    1. Get clear on what you’re actually looking for in a partner.

    Then, treat your early interactions as a testing ground to see if the other person meets your criteria.

    (while staying open to being surprised, willing to update your criteria, not dismissing people too early, etc)

    Remember:

    It’s a tryout, not a chase. ​

    Hope that helps 🙂

    • T


    ​P.S. This clip pairs perfectly with today’s email:


    ​Never Do This Early In A Relationship



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  • Knee deep in docs

    Deadlines, documents and word counts have been the common theme for over a week.

    The idea of going gently into 2025 was but a dream…

    Although I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world (Except for unlimited Coffee + Krispy Kreme’s for life…maybe)

    My editor has vanished, well not vanished but taken a well-deserved holiday for putting up with my shenanigans in 2024.

    I’ve had to become a mega-hermit and block out everything and everyone, I mean. When you’ve got a mission in place. An end goal. You don’t just allow anything or anyone to get in your way from achieving it.

    Yeah, you’re gonna get people who don’t understand and call you selfish. Which is cool.

    Years ago I would’ve tried to be that type of people pleaser who’d want to make sure I manage their feelings on the subject.

    Now. I don’t care one bit. This always-on, always-available and emotionally justifiable world we live in seems to get worse every year. Which to me is nuts.

    Which gets me to the point of this email today…

    Protecting your peace while working on your goals, dreams etc. You’re only alive on this spinning rock for a finite amount of time and you need to make sure you live your life on your terms.

    (Woah this is getting a lot more inspirational and serious than in most of my writing…)

    There’s been way too much chaos being swirled around and spat out for everyone to see and in 2025, I’m not about that life. I don’t think anyone’s gonna be about that life.

    My mode has been switched to: Serious.

    Things need to get done.

    Squirrels need to be monitored…

    Stephen Walker

    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

    P.S. This set has been keeping me going while I’m pounding away at the keyboard. I’ve gone from writing 20k+ words, down to editing it to less than 12k…

    P.P.S. I’m about 1 cup of coffee away from transforming into a gelatinous flesh-vessel of pure caffeine.

    If you’re not diggin’ these tasty little emails anymore you can hit the unsubscribe button right here >>> unsubscribe

    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • When the snowball smacks you in the face, keep rolling

    If you’re not diggin’ these tasty little emails anymore you can hit the unsubscribe button right here >>> unsubscribe

    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • All jangly bones and loud squawks.

    Here’s a little monster of a manifesto, all jangly bones and loud squawks, just for you.

    I was asked about why I write and I always meet that answer slightly differently because it’s forever evolving.

    So let me tell you something true. A bit of real talk.

    I do not give a rabid raccoon’s ass if you read my emails or posts or gory scribbles or sweary-word-laced stories. Seriously.

    Apathy, has set up a lawn chair inside my soul and is enjoying a tall glass of I-Don’t-Give-A-Damn.

    And here’s why…

    I write because it’s what I do. It’s an all-consuming, devouring flame that would fry me from the inside out if I didn’t push these words through my fingertips like demonic confetti. Love it, hate it, read it, ignore it. Whatever.

    But don’t mistake me. You are all voyeurs…

    Peeping through my digital curtains, rummaging around for the hot stuff. And I see you. I see your eyeballs lurking in the internet shadows, waiting to pounce when something hits that sweet spot. (We can call it a “viral moment,” but it’s really just some weird stellar asteroid thingy lining up like some vampire goose cackle to say, “Hey, read this, or else!”)

    And that’s when you’ll show up, face in the light, making yourself known. Maybe you’ll tweet me. Maybe you’ll show up in my DMs, or buy me a coffee. Maybe you’ll just give me this Internet-tap on the shoulder: “Hey, friend, read your thing. Took some action.” And that’s cool like a chilled margarita, but it’s also not the goal. The goal is the writing. That intangible bliss of words frothing over like a cappuccino machine gone haywire.

    (Side note: Last time I used a cappuccino machine I nearly set everything on fire. So yeah. Use that knowledge however…)

    Could you read every little shred of nonsense I shovel onto a page? Sure. Do I need you to? Absolutely not. But if you do, you do. My heart grows three sizes, Grinch-style. If you don’t, I’ll keep tapping away anyway because that’s the thing about being a writer of words. You do it because you can’t not do it. No different than a cat hacking up hairballs. It’s gonna happen no matter who’s watching.

    So read, don’t read, peep like a creeper or share it with your mother-in-law. I’m not bothered either way. Because I’m over here, feeling the itch in my fingers, collecting stray syllables and weird phrases from the wind, spinning them into something, anything and that’s the real payoff. The words are the spark. The rest? Just icing on the weird, wonderful, writerly cake.

    Cheers for sticking around so far.

    Stephen Walker
    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

    P.S. I wrote this on the apple notes app and you know what, it’s not that bad, except I did drop the phone on my face a few times. So I guess it’s time to get out of bed, grab a coffee and do some more of that writer-ly stuff.

    If you’re not diggin’ these tasty little emails anymore you can hit the unsubscribe button right here >>> unsubscribe

    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • I nearly died and it was beautiful realisation

    England. November 2012. The kind of day where the sky pisses misery and the clouds look like they’re having an existential crisis. Because of course it is. Because England.

    I’m feeling fine. Absolutely fine. This is important because spoiler alert…

    I was absolutely not fine. My body was basically running a silent self-destruct sequence while my brain was all “THIS IS FINE” like that meme with the dog in the burning house.

    So I waltz into work, right?

    Coffee in hand, ready to corporate the shit out of my day.

    And everyone.

    EVERYONE

    Looks at me like I’m wearing a banana costume.

    Turns out, I basically was.

    My skin had gone full-on YELLOW.

    Not “oh you look a bit peaked” yellow. We’re talking “holy shit you’re cosplaying as Springfield’s finest” yellow.

    I still felt fine though…

    (Narrator: They were not, in fact, fine.)

    Next thing I know, I’m in the hospital, getting turned into a human pin cushion. They’re shoving needles in my arms like they’re trying to recreate a connect-the-dots puzzle with bruises. By the end, I looked like I’d gone twelve rounds with an angry octopus wielding ink needles.

    The IV drip becomes my new best friend.

    My arms look like a roadmap of bad decisions, but hey, at least I’m not doing my best impression of a banana anymore.

    48 hours and approximately 47 gallons of blood samples later, the doc drops the bomb…

    Epstein-Barr Virus.

    Because apparently my immune system decided to take a vacation without telling the rest of me.

    How did I catch it? Who knows? The universe sometimes just decides to play Russian roulette with your organs for shits and giggles.

    But here’s the real mind-fuck that settled in.

    There’s nothing quite like almost dying to make you realise how much of your daily stress is complete horseshit.

    Nothing like a near-death experience to make you go “Huh, maybe that passive-aggressive email from Karen in accounting isn’t actually the end of the world.”

    But a simple life lesson: If your co-workers at the time tell you you’re yellow, maybe don’t argue.

    Maybe just… you know… Go to the hospital!

    And it got me thinking…

    We’re all just temporary meat-puppets piloting bone-mechs covered in flesh-armor, and our time here is shorter than a hamster’s attention span.

    So what the HELL are you waiting for?

    That story you’ve been sitting on? WRITE IT.
    That art you’ve been dreaming of? MAKE IT.
    That idea that keeps you up at 3 AM? BUILD IT.

    Death doesn’t give a tap-dancing fuck about your excuses. It doesn’t care that you’re “not ready” or that “the timing isn’t right” or that “maybe next year will be better.”

    Every breath is borrowed time. And you know what? That’s not scary. That’s beautiful. That’s motivation wrapped in a mortality bow.

    I didn’t get yellow as a banana and nearly kick the bucket just to come back and scroll through social media until my eyes gushed blood. Neither did you survive whatever chaos tornado sucked you in and spit you out to just exist like a houseplant.

    CREATE.
    MAKE.
    DO.

    Cause we should all know that the he only thing worse than death is reaching it with our songs still unsung, our stories still untold, and our art still locked in the prison of our mind.

    Stephen Walker

    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

    P.S. I’m locking myself inside of my murder shed and going to town on my writing. Deadlines need to be hit and that word count ain’t gonna write itself.

    P.P.S It’s been cold here and the squirrels have lost interest.

    If you’re not diggin’ these tasty little emails anymore you can hit the unsubscribe button right here >>> unsubscribe

    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • How to document your rage

    Sometimes we need to deep-dive into the art of documenting our murderous impulses…

    We all have bad days.

    And this is purely for a creative point of view and a little exercise that’ll unstuck your brain meats.

    So grab a coffee, pen, piece of paper or even your nearest word processor and inside your own rage-tinted reality, go to war with your imagination.

    Let that rage-fury-flag-fly.

    For 20 minutes write about every justified grievance from your point of view:

    Each eye twitch and blood vessel pop

    All the reasons you’re the hero of this story

    That thing they said about your mom in 7th grade

    Don’t hold back. This is your villain origin story. Make it SING with righteous anger. Let your keyboard or notepad catch fire with the intensity of your completely rational desire to introduce their face to your fist.

    Once your time is up take a little break and the sit down again.

    This time around. Another 20 minutes, but this time…

    You’re walking in the devils shoes.

    You’re the other person who felt the wrath of 20 minutes ago you. You’re wiping yourself off from the floor. Bloody and bruised.

    Now it’s time to tell your version.

    What unholy logic drove their actions?

    What broken brain chemistry made them think that was okay?

    How does it feel to be so catastrophically wrong about everything?

    Once that’s done and the dust has settled.

    A final 5 minutes is needed.

    It’s the sobering truth.

    It’s the 3rd wheel. The final POV.

    And here’s where it gets real.

    Strip away the drama, the coffee jitters, and the murder fantasies. What actually happened?

    Were you both assholes?

    Was anyone actually right?

    What came out of it?

    Why does this work so well?

    Catharsis through creative violence

    Perspective-shifting is a great tool

    Truth-finding through exhaustion

    When you take an idea and split it into 3 points of view while telling the same story. It opens up a whole different world for when you need to do some serious writing and analysing.

    Sometimes you’re the hero, sometimes you’re the villain, and sometimes you’re just an asshole having a bad day and everyone was just sitting back, watching…

    Stephen Walker

    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

    P.S. I haven’t lost my mind. This is just a fun exercise.
    P.P.S. It’s Friday and this was written without pants.

    Writing about wanting to punch someone is always better than actually punching them. Usually. Terms and conditions apply. Results may vary. Consult your lawyer before proceeding.

    (Side effects may include: reduced rage, increased empathy, and a concerning addiction to perspective exercises.)

    If you’re not diggin’ these tasty little emails anymore you can hit the unsubscribe button right here >>> unsubscribe

    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • This depressing email will make you happier

    Today’s email is a remix of one of our greatest hits, originally sent July 8, 2024. Enjoy.

    “There is only one cause of unhappiness: the false beliefs you have in your head.” – Anthony de Mello

    Here’s a list of realizations that are depressing in the short term, but will make you happier in the long-term:

    ​You can’t fix everything.

    ​Some problems will not be solved in your lifetime; you will live with them forever.

    Whether this bothers you or not is up to you.

    ​Love isn’t enough.

    ​Falling in love doesn’t mean it’ll work out, just like doing what you love doesn’t mean money will follow.

    If you thought a happy ending was guaranteed, welcome to the wrong fairytale.

    ​Neither is hard work.

    ​Working really, really hard doesn’t mean you’ll make it, and neither does “working smart.”

    The truth is:

    ​You might just not be good enough.

    ​Genetics are a b*tch.

    And, in case we forgot to add insult to injury:

    ​Suffering doesn’t end.

    ​If you’re expecting to wake up one day with all of your problems solved, stay in bed.

    (Finer point for the advanced: You can transcend suffering, but you can’t get rid of it; to transcend means to include and go beyond, not to remove. Apologies, Buddhists).

    ​Well, damn.

    ​That… sucks?

    Maybe.

    Before we go walking into the ocean with rocks in our pockets, there’s a catch:

    ​None of this is a problem.​

    Reality ‘aint got no problems; she’s been running this show a lot longer than we’ve been playing it.

    Problems aren’t a reality thing, they’re a human thing:

    A thing we create by expecting reality be different than it is.

    If we expect the sky to be green, we’ll have a problem every time we look up — and it won’t be the sky’s fault, it’ll be ours.

    So, while the childhood move is to wish reality to be as we want it to be…

    The adult move is to meet reality as it is so we can deal with it productively.

    You still might not get what you wanted, but you’ll be happier for it.

    • T

      ​P.S. I know this message lands in the deep end of the tough-love spectrum, but if the truth hurts, then pain is our ally.

      If you enjoyed, here’s more:

      ​This Depressing Video Will Make You Happier​

    Also:

    ​Our next email will land on Tuesday next week.
    ​​
    Taking a few days to unplug and lock in on our retreat here in the Amazon.

    Chat with you then.



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  • Slow and steady wins the race but nobody wants to tell you why

    Alright, It’s early. I haven’t even had breakfast yet and well…

    …grab a seat and pour yourself something strong,

    We’re about to dive into some real talk before the birds wake up.

    The kind of talk that might make you squirm a little, but that’s okay.

    Growth is uncomfortable. Like wearing skinny jeans after a buffet. But stick with me, because this is the kind of stuff that separates the wheat from the chaff, the doers from the dabblers, the legends from the “who was that again?”

    Let’s talk about community.

    Yeah, yeah. I know, it’s not a new concept.

    Community has always been the secret sauce, the lifeblood, the holy grail of building something meaningful.

    But in the age of dopamine-driven follower counts and vanity metrics, people forgot…

    They got distracted by the shiny numbers, the big, bold milestones. Hit 10k followers? You’re a god. 100k? Saint. 1 million?

    You’re untouchable. Or so they thought.

    And then we all heard about Instagram ‘fluencer @arii.

    You know the story, right? Two million followers, couldn’t sell 36 t-shirts. Thirty-six. That’s fewer than the number of people who show up to your cousin’s awkward karaoke birthday party. And that, my early morning friend, is the cautionary tale of our time.

    Because here’s a suck- y but honest truth which everyone needs to know…

    Followers don’t mean shit if they don’t care.

    Let me say that again for the people in the back of the bar.

    Followers. Don’t. Mean. Shit.

    Not unless they’re invested. Not unless they care about you, what you stand for, and why you’re doing what you’re doing.

    And that’s where community comes in. Not followers. Not subscribers. Not “fans.”

    Community.

    Real people who give a damn about you because you give a damn about them.

    People who stick around not because you’re selling them something, but because you’re giving them something.

    Be it a perspective, a connection, a reason to feel like they’re part of something bigger than themselves. That’s the magic.

    That’s the juice.

    (Speaking of juice. I’m about to get a freshly brewed bean juice before it hits 6am…)

    Building a community isn’t fast. It’s not sexy. It’s not the kind of thing that makes headlines. It’s slow, deliberate, and sometimes downright frustrating. You’re gonna feel like you’re shouting into the void some days.

    But slow and steady? That’s how you build something that lasts.

    See, the online space is shifting. People are jaded. They’ve seen the influencers with their rented Lambos and fake smiles and “Hey guys! Buy my thing!” energy.

    They’re tired of it. They don’t want to be sold to.

    They want to belong. And if you’re not giving them something real, something that makes them feel seen, heard, and valued, they’ll scroll right past you.

    You’re just another face in the endless, mind-numbing feed of content.

    (You see this shit every single day without fail on the business side of Facebook and LinkedIn)

    Here’s a little trick THEY won’t tell you, though, and it’s a big one…

    You need to stand for something.

    You need to have a message, a view, a voice that’s so clear, so unapologetically you, that it either pulls people in like a goddamn magnet or pushes them away.

    Polarise, my friend.

    Be a lighthouse, not a disco ball.

    Cult leaders figured this out a long time ago (minus the creepy Kool-Aid stuff)

    They didn’t try to appeal to everyone. They didn’t water themselves down to be “likable.”

    They found their people, Their ride-or-die believers by being so specific, so bold, so them that the right folks couldn’t help but follow.

    And you? You can do the same.

    But it takes guts. It takes consistency. It takes showing up, even when it feels like no one’s listening. It takes focusing on your audience, not just your numbers.

    And it takes time. But here’s the good news…

    The stuff you build slow and steady? It’s unshakeable. It’s the kind of thing that doesn’t crumble when the algorithm changes or the platform shifts or the shiny new toy comes along.

    So, here’s my challenge to you.

    If you’ve found these emails awesome send a friend here https://stphnwlkr.com/list

    Forward them this email so you can get them in to my world.

    Secondly…

    Forget about the follower count. Forget about the vanity metrics. Focus on your people. Find them. Serve them.

    Build for them. Show up for them. And for the love of whiskey, make it fun. Entertain them. Delight them. Make them think, laugh, cry, whatever. Or like me, piss them off. Make them irrationally angry because you write ALL OF THE WORDS.

    Just make them feel something.

    Because when you do that?

    When you build something real?

    You win. Maybe not today. Maybe not next week. But in the long run?

    You’re unstoppable.

    Now, I’ve got more secrets. Oh, I’ve got plenty.

    But I’m not spilling them all just yet. This is just a taste. Some brain food for the year ahead.

    So chew on it. Sip your drink. Let it sink in. Then go out there and build. Slow. Steady. Relentless.

    And hey, when you’re ready for round two? You know where to find me.

    Stephen Walker

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • Kobe & Beyonce Used The Same Training Technique

    “Everything that happens to you is a form of instruction if you pay attention.” – Robert Greene, Mastery

    After I wrote yesterday’s email…


    (Read: This is what mastery looks like. One of my favorites in recent memory.)


    …I was reminded of a story from Kobe Bryant, who was close friends with Beyoncé.


    ​As the story goes:


    Beyoncé would watch every single one of her shows, from start to finish, immediately after her performance was over…


    Studying each moment in detail, searching for opportunities to improve.


    Now, keep in mind:


    She is performing, more or less, the same show every night while on tour.


    So she’s watching the same damn show, every night.


    After performing it.


    Every night.


    Over.. and over… and over again.


    ​Which is precisely the part most of us miss about the road to mastery.


    On stage, it looks like fireworks.


    But off stage, it looks like relentless, ruthless amounts of repetition.


    Months, years, and decades of repetition…


    Combined with a merciless commitment to learning, iterating, and improving.


    Similarly:


    ​Kobe and Laker assistant coach Tex Winter used to watch tape of every game together.


    But not the television feed.


    The camera feed:


    Including warmups, time outs, half time, dead-ball time, and every other recorded moment, amounting to over four hours of tape per game.


    They didn’t just study moves and plays and game sequences, like most teams…


    ​They also studied the energy and body language of players before, in-between, and after every game.


    Every game.


    All year long.


    No stone unturned.


    No detail missed.


    Now, I’m not saying you should do the same thing.


    But I am saying that if mastery is your goal, this is what it takes.


    It’s always slow, often boring, and rewards are never guaranteed.


    But damn if it isn’t glorious.

    • T


    ​P.S. In case you missed it:

    ​Here’s the link to yesterday’s email once more.



    ​Unsubscribe | Update your profile | 5-420 Erb St. W, Suite 433, Waterloo, ON N2L6K6

  • Why chasing shiny new platforms won’t make you famous (but this will)

    Alright, slide that glass over here, and let’s get into it.

    You know the drill.

    Whiskey that smells like burnt jet fuel, a bar that’s seen better days, and you and me trying to figure out how to survive this weird, wonderful life as artists in a world obsessed with shiny new toys.

    (If you missed the last post made for The League of Extraordinary Penmanship you can find it if you click this)

    Let’s talk about that, yeah?

    The shiny new toys.

    The platforms. The apps. The trends. The “holy-shit-have-you-seen-this-new-platform-that’s-gonna-change-everything” kind of buzz.

    Every damn time, people are losing their minds over the Next Big Thing like it’s a golden ticket to Wonka’s chocolate factory.

    And hey, I get it. It’s tempting. It feels fresh, exciting. It’s a blank canvas with a million filters and the promise of virality if you just crack the code. But you know what it really is? Distraction.

    No matter how shiny the platform, no matter how fresh the trend, the thing that will always make you win as an artist is showing up. Every. Damn. Day.

    Consistency, baby.

    It’s not sexy.

    It’s not flashy.

    It’s not gonna make headlines.

    But it works.

    It’s the grindstone your creativity sharpens itself on. It’s the glue that holds your relationship with your audience together.

    Consistency is the unshakable truth that outlasts every algorithm change, every app update, and every “new hotness” that pops up like a caffeinated jack-in-the-box.

    And yeah, I know. It’s boring. It’s exhausting. Some days, you’d rather crawl into a hole and let the squirrels adopt you than make another piece of content or put yourself out there again. But you do it anyway. Because showing up, even when you don’t want to, is what separates the people who dabble from the people who last.

    Let me paint you a picture quick

    Imagine you’re running a diner. Nothing fancy, just a cosy little spot where people come to eat, chat, and feel taken care of.

    Now, imagine every week there’s a new restaurant opening down the street, all flash and flair, promising the moon and stars.

    What do you do? You don’t try to out-flash them. You don’t burn yourself out chasing trends. You focus on your people.

    You show up every morning, rain or shine, and make the best damn pancakes you can.

    You learn your regulars’ names. You keep the coffee hot. You make the space welcoming, fun, maybe even a little weird in a way only you can pull off.

    Before long, those shiny new places close their doors because they were all sizzle and no steak.

    But you? You’ve got a line out the door. Your customers keep coming back because they trust you. They know you’re gonna show up and deliver. They’re not just customers anymore; they’re your people. Your tribe. Your army of pancake-eating loyalists.

    It’s the same with your audience. Whether you’re an artist, a musician, a writer, a content creator, whatever (Like I’ve been harping on since forever) the people who follow you aren’t looking for perfection.

    They don’t care if you’re on the newest platform or if your graphics are as slick as a used car salesman’s pitch.

    They care that you show up. That you’re real. That you’re there for them, day in and day out, with something they can connect to.

    The fun part. Because consistency doesn’t have to feel like dragging your soul across a bed of hot nails. If you make it fun, if you make it entertaining, not just for your audience but for you, it becomes something you actually look forward to.

    You’re not just cranking out content to feed these big tech companies algorithm; you’re sharing little slices of yourself, your humour, your weirdness, your humanity.

    That’s what keeps people coming back. That’s what makes them stick around, even when the next shiny platform rolls into town.

    Look, I’m not saying you should ignore the new stuff entirely. Experiment, sure. Play around. But don’t let it pull you away from the bedrock of what you do. Showing up and creating. Tirelessly. Relentlessly. On the days it’s easy, and especially on the days it’s not. Because that’s the secret sauce, the thing that will keep your career alive long after the trends have turned to dust and the shiny toys have rusted over.

    Just like in these emails where I share what’s swirling inside of my brain.

    It’s about showing up. To the grind. To making it fun. And to building something so goddamn solid that no algorithm, no platform, no shiny new thing can ever take it away from you and if those pesky squirrels come along and wanna sabotage you…

    You’re gonna show up tomorrow, the next day and forever onwards until you crossover to the other side…

    Stephen Walker

    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • This is what mastery looks like.

    “Mastery is the best goal because the rich can’t buy it, the impatient can’t rush it, the privileged can’t inherit it, and nobody can steal it. You can only earn it through hard work. Mastery is the ultimate status.” – Derek Sivers

    The difference between a skilled practitioner and a master is something like the difference between a millionaire and a billionaire:


    A billionaire is — literally — 1000x wealthier than a millionaire.


    They aren’t miles apart, they’re galaxies apart.


    ​That’s what’s been on my mind since I landed in the Amazon jungle, two days ago.


    I’m here to guide a group of nine people through a two week plant medicine intensive, led by my core teacher:


    An indigenous man who has been practicing for over 40 years.


    Although “practicing” doesn’t quite describe what he’s done.


    ​He has given his entire life to his craft…


    Handing over his mind, body, and spirit with a commitment so total it would make David Goggins blush.


    During his apprenticeship, he ran six healing ceremonies per week, working with ~30 people per night.


    (Imagine playing in a high-stakes playoff game that goes into multiple overtimes. Now imagine doing it six nights per week, for over a decade.)


    Then he woke up at 5 am the next morning to prepare plant medicine for the following night.


    ​When he was finished, he would retreat into isolation to sit and practice in silence until it was time for another ceremony.


    No talking. No touching. No television.


    No doom scrolling.


    No distractions.


    His fuel:


    One meal per day; a piece of fish and a dry plantain.


    ​He continued this protocol, with short breaks, for over 12 years.


    And that was just his apprenticeship.


    Today, at 60 years old, he is widely considered the greatest healer of his generation.


    He continues running 4-6 healing ceremonies per week, working on the front-lines of human suffering, going to battle with the darkest, most complex trauma the world has to offer, while training dozens of apprentices in the healing arts (myself included), passing down a 10,000 year old spiritual tradition that dates back to the earliest Amazonian shamans.


    ​I love Kobe, but damn:


    Three workouts per day is child’s play.


    Now, to be clear:


    I do not share this as a recommendation.


    Most of us would die if we attempted it (that’s not an exaggeration; we would actually die).


    To do something this extreme…


    To give your life to your craft so totally…


    To turn yourself into a pure instrument of healing, for the sole purpose of helping others…


    ​You must be called.


    You don’t choose a life like this, it chooses you.


    And yet, I can’t think of a more fulfilling way to live.


    Winning titles, making money, gaining followers, earning accolades and status and admiration…


    …All worldly achievements feel like sandbox games in the face of a master who has given his life to his craft.


    ​And when I see him at work, I can’t help but imagine a world where we all find the life we’re chosen for.


    Where we all aim higher than the level of our eye-line, beyond the flat, well-worn path that leads to a knowable destination.


    Where the call within leads us off-road, to carve our own trail towards an unknown summit high in the cloudy distance.


    Where we’re not moved by our own force, but by a force of nature.


    The force of spirit itself.


    May we all hear that call, in our lives.


    And, when it comes:


    May we rise to answer it.

    • T



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  • Time is a cruel game, isn’t it?

    Parkinson’s Law is a ruthless bitch. “Work expands to fill the time available for its completion.”

    Sounds elegant, right? It’s a fancy way of saying we’re all professional procrastinators

    For years, I fed myself the same excuses

    I need more time to polish this, I need to research more, I’m not ready

    Lies. All lies I told myself while binge-watching an entire series on Netflix

    You know what happened when I started giving myself ridiculously short deadlines?

    Black magic, that’s what.

    Suddenly, that novel I’d been “planning” for 5 years materialised in 30 days

    That writing course that was going to be my masterpiece? BAM!

    The outline was knocked out in a week of creative frenzy

    It’s not that quality suffers, it’s that your brain stops masturbating to the idea of perfection and starts producing

    It’s like when you have a deadline with a well-paying client

    …somehow, mysteriously, you always find a way to deliver

    So here’s my advice, unvarnished

    Set absurd deadlines. Be unreasonable. If you think something will take a month, give yourself a week

    If you think you need a year, do it in three months

    Stop planning. Stop preparing. Stop polishing that first line until it shines like a cherub’s ass.

    Just write, damn it.

    And if you need more motivation, picture this…

    While you’re perfecting that first chapter for the millionth time, some idiot out there is publishing their tenth mediocre book and making real money

    Hurts, doesn’t it? Good. Use that pain

    Stephen Walker

    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • Trustage: the secret sauce to telling stories that stick

    “Trustage.” Yes, it’s a made-up word and if you just rolled your eyes, congratulations, you’re already in the club of people who understand that all words are made up anyway.

    (Seriously, someone just pointed at a tree one day and said, “That’s a tree,” and we all nodded like, “Yeah, sure, makes sense.” Words are weird. Welcome to the chaos.)

    But “Trustage” isn’t just a word, it’s a philosophy. A principle. A rallying cry for writers, artists, marketers, and all of us who traffic in the art of Make Believe. It’s about trusting your audience. Trusting that they’re sharp, savvy, and smart enough to get it.

    Too many storytellers (and marketers and, let’s be honest, the guy who explains the plot of a movie to you while you’re literally watching it) don’t trust their audience. They spoon-feed them every detail, double underline every point, and then add a PowerPoint presentation for good measure. And what they’re really saying is…

    “Hey, buddy, I don’t think you’re clever enough to figure this out on your own.”

    Which is insulting. It’s like handing someone a fork and then showing them an instructional video on how to stab the broccoli.

    Personally, I’m a big fan of not doing that. My job isn’t to hold your hand and walk you through the woods. My job is to drop you in the middle of the forest with a compass and a wink, and trust that you’ll find your way out and probably with a cool story to tell when you do.

    Audiences (readers, customers, clients, whoever) are amazing. They’re capable of piecing things together, of connecting dots, of getting it without you having to spell it out like a kindergarten teacher on a caffeine bender.

    So, a blood oath. Okay, maybe not blood. A coffee oath. Let’s agree to give our audiences what they need, just enough breadcrumbs to lead them to the gingerbread house and leave the rest to their brilliant minds. Let’s give them that Trustage.

    Because when you trust your audience, magic happens. Stories resonate. Products shine. People feel seen and respected. And bonus!…you don’t have to work so hard trying to explain everything like a human Wikipedia.

    So write the thing. Paint the picture. Sell the product. Trust your audience to figure it out. They’re smarter than you think. (And if they’re not? Well, that’s on them. You did your part. You’re awesome. Go eat a cookie.)

    Yours in Trustage,

    Stephen Walker
    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

    Maker of Words, Believer in Breadcrumbs, Giver of Winks and observer of squirrels who may be a plotting shenanigans…

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • Reading between the lies

    Subtext aka the implied meaning is something you’re seeing a lot more of nowadays.

    People saying one thing but meaning the complete opposite.

    I don’t know what it is. Maybe everyone is becoming a lot more introverted.

    Maybe it’s just the weather.

    Or maybe everyone just needs a little time out.

    “I’m fine” doesn’t mean they’re fine.

    It usually means the opposite. The person is upset, angry, or hurt but doesn’t want talk about it.

    “We should do lunch sometime.”

    Which might sound genuine off the rip.

    But we all know it’s often a polite brush-off with no real intention to meet.

    I mean you don’t wanna come out for burritos? More for me I guess?

    Subtext is fun though

    If you’re writing dialogue for a character it can draw the reader in.

    Use contradictions between words and actions:

    “Sure, everything’s great,” she said, shredding the napkin into tiny pieces.

    Leave statements incomplete:

    “If you’d just listen—”
    “I always listen.”
    “Like that time when—”
    “Don’t.”

    Create context gaps viewers must fill:

    “You know what day it is.”
    “I thought we agreed never to mention that again.”

    Or if you’re writing advertising copy:

    Plant Easter eggs that reward close attention

    “Some secrets are worth keeping. Others are worth sharing.” (For a social media app)

    Use double meanings that click on a second viewing

    “It runs in the family” (Could be for: genetics testing, shoes, or hereditary diseases)

    Layer multiple interpretations

    “What else aren’t they telling you?” (Creates paranoia while positioning your brand as transparent)

    The key is to:

    Never explain the subtext
    
    Reward pattern recognition
    
    Make solving the puzzle satisfying
    
    Leave room for multiple valid interpretations
    
    Create "aha" moments that make people feel clever

    Little bonus for writing VSLs:

    “Like you, I used to believe what my doctor told me about cholesterol.
    [Subtext: The medical establishment isn’t telling the whole truth]

    I followed all the rules. Avoided eggs. Chose low-fat everything. Took the prescribed medications.
    [Subtext: You’re doing everything “right” but still failing]

    Then last October, while organizing my father’s garage, I found an old leather journal. What I discovered inside changed everything…
    [Subtext: Secret knowledge passed down/hidden from public]

    To tie it all together. Subtext is a powerful way to communicate your message and there’s honestly an art to crafting writing that drips with it.

    I’ll write a more in depth post on this but this was just a quick off the cuff idea to get your brain-meats going.

    Now I’m off to go get some burritos before 22:00

    Stephen Walker
    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

    P.S. I guess I can grab some burritos for the squirrels cause they’ve been spying pretty hard lately…

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • Move the world

    Writing is alchemy.

    You take the base metals of thought.

    Those raw, clunky nuggets of feeling, idea, and observation and through the weirdest, most mystical process, you turn them into something golden.

    Words.

    And words?

    Words are power. They’re not just squiggly lines on a page or glowing glyphs on a screen.

    Words move people.

    They ignite a fire in the mind.

    They punch hearts, twist guts, and, yes, sometimes, gently cradle the soul.

    Writing isn’t just a skill. It’s a form of sorcery.

    It’s the closest thing we have to real magic, and I’m not saying that lightly.

    You can use writing to whisk someone away into a fantasy world where dragons breathe fire and heroes carry swords carved from the bones of dead gods.

    You can use it to make someone cry over the heartbreak of a character who never even existed.

    You can use it to explain how to bake a loaf of sourdough bread or how to build a life that feels meaningful. Hell, you can use it to convince someone to buy an air fryer or a self-help book or a ticket to an indie film they didn’t know they needed until you dangled the right combination of words in front of them.

    Think about it this way…

    Words make people do things.

    They’re the spark. The catalyst. They can make people feel something so deeply that they act on it. They donate to charity. They quit their soul-sucking job. They call their mom. They fall in love with a character or a story or sometimes, if you’ve done your job right a better version of themselves.

    And isn’t that what alchemy is? Transformation. Turning one thing into another.

    Writing does that. Writing makes impossible connections. It takes one person’s experience, one person’s voice, and sends it out like a flare into the dark. And someone else, someone miles or continents or centuries away, sees it. Feels it. Gets it. Writing bridges gaps.

    It’s empathy in action.

    The only thing about writing and writing well?

    That takes practice. It takes effort. It’s not just about knowing where to put the commas or how to structure a sentence (though, hey, those things help)

    It’s about learning how to make people feel. It’s about learning how to bend words until they sing, so that they sting, so that they stick.

    And everyone everyone should learn how to do it.

    Not because we all need to write novels or screenplays or Instagram captions that make people weep (though, hey, those are all worthy goals too)

    But because writing is connection. Writing is persuasion. Writing is the way you make your voice heard.

    You want to build a business? Learn to write well.

    You want to argue for change? Learn to write well.

    You want to tell your story so that someone else feels less alone?

    Learn to write well.

    Good writing is clarity. It’s confidence. It’s compassion.

    Scrawl something messy and weird and raw in the margins of your notebook.

    Write badly. Write boldly. Write until you figure out how to make someone feel something.

    Because when you do? That’s when the magic happens.

    That’s when you turn words into gold.

    Stephen Walker

    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

    P.S. The squirrels have been rather quiet lately. Probably learning something new…

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • Never apologize for being dope.

    “There are some days when I think I’m going to die from an overdose of satisfaction.” – Salvador Dali

    Before Salvador Dali became famous, he often signed restaurant cheques without paying.


    His reason:


    “Someday this signature will be worth far more than the meal.”


    Imagine being his waiter:


    You feed your family with the income you make from tips, and some dopey-looking mustached mfxer you’ve never heard of leaves you his autograph instead.


    Now imagine you keep his signature, just in case.


    ​And, ten years later, you buy yourself a damn house with it.


    Mustache doesn’t look so dopey now, does it?


    Of course, dining and dashing is still a dick move.


    And leaving your autograph instead of cash is unforgivably arrogant.


    But damn if it isn’t also kinda gangster.


    I’m sharing this story as an extreme example of a principle that came up on a recent Path AMA call:


    ​False humility is a lie.


    Reducing yourself, hiding your accomplishments, shrinking to avoid threatening others, pretending you’re less than you really are…


    …Is just as dishonest as over-inflating yourself.


    ​The only truthful response is the truth.


    No more, no less.


    Of course, Salvador wildly over-inflated the value of his signature, which wasn’t worth the paper it was written on until years later.


    (it only became true later on, which means it was still a lie in the moment)


    So I’ll leave you with one more example, before we wrap:


    A few years back, Billie Eilish cleaned out the Grammys, taking home five of the six awards she was nominated for.


    Each time her name was called, she would blush and look away in embarrassment:


    Shy, almost afraid to dominate the spotlight.


    The next day, Alicia Keys called her and said:


    ​”Never apologize for being dope.”


    In other words:


    Never say you’re greater than you are.


    But never say you’re not as great as you are, either.


    And never, ever leave without leaving a tip.

    • T


    ​P.S. Meanwhile, on X…

    I just answered the (weird) question:

    ​”Will meditation make me more money?”​



    ​Unsubscribe | Update your profile | 5-420 Erb St. W, Suite 433, Waterloo, ON N2L6K6

  • Never apologize for being dope.

    “There are some days when I think I’m going to die from an overdose of satisfaction.” – Salvador Dali

    Before Salvador Dali became famous, he often signed restaurant cheques without paying.


    His reason:


    “Someday this signature will be worth far more than the meal.”


    Imagine being his waiter:


    You feed your family with the income you make from tips, and some dopey-looking mustached mfxer you’ve never heard of leaves you his autograph instead.


    Now imagine you keep his signature, just in case.


    ​And, ten years later, you buy yourself a damn house with it.


    Mustache doesn’t look so dopey now, does it?


    Of course, dining and dashing is still a dick move.


    And leaving your autograph instead of cash is unforgivably arrogant.


    But damn if it isn’t also kinda gangster.


    I’m sharing this story as an extreme example of a principle that came up on a recent Path AMA call:


    ​False humility is a lie.


    Reducing yourself, hiding your accomplishments, shrinking to avoid threatening others, pretending you’re less than you really are…


    …Is just as dishonest as over-inflating yourself.


    ​The only truthful response is the truth.


    No more, no less.


    Of course, Salvador wildly over-inflated the value of his signature, which wasn’t worth the paper it was written on until years later.


    (it only became true later on, which means it was still a lie in the moment)


    So I’ll leave you with one more example, before we wrap:


    A few years back, Billie Eilish cleaned out the Grammys, taking home five of the six awards she was nominated for.


    Each time her name was called, she would blush and look away in embarrassment:


    Shy, almost afraid to dominate the spotlight.


    The next day, Alicia Keys called her and said:


    ​”Never apologize for being dope.”


    In other words:


    Never say you’re greater than you are.


    But never say you’re not as great as you are, either.


    And never, ever leave without leaving a tip.

    • T


    ​P.S. Meanwhile, on X…

    I just answered the (weird) question:

    ​”Will meditation make me more money?”​



    ​Unsubscribe | Update your profile | 5-420 Erb St. W, Suite 433, Waterloo, ON N2L6K6″There are some days when I think I’m going to die from an overdose of satisfaction.” – Salvador Dali

    Before Salvador Dali became famous, he often signed restaurant cheques without paying.


    His reason:


    “Someday this signature will be worth far more than the meal.”


    Imagine being his waiter:


    You feed your family with the income you make from tips, and some dopey-looking mustached mfxer you’ve never heard of leaves you his autograph instead.


    Now imagine you keep his signature, just in case.


    ​And, ten years later, you buy yourself a damn house with it.


    Mustache doesn’t look so dopey now, does it?


    Of course, dining and dashing is still a dick move.


    And leaving your autograph instead of cash is unforgivably arrogant.


    But damn if it isn’t also kinda gangster.


    I’m sharing this story as an extreme example of a principle that came up on a recent Path AMA call:


    ​False humility is a lie.


    Reducing yourself, hiding your accomplishments, shrinking to avoid threatening others, pretending you’re less than you really are…


    …Is just as dishonest as over-inflating yourself.


    ​The only truthful response is the truth.


    No more, no less.


    Of course, Salvador wildly over-inflated the value of his signature, which wasn’t worth the paper it was written on until years later.


    (it only became true later on, which means it was still a lie in the moment)


    So I’ll leave you with one more example, before we wrap:


    A few years back, Billie Eilish cleaned out the Grammys, taking home five of the six awards she was nominated for.


    Each time her name was called, she would blush and look away in embarrassment:


    Shy, almost afraid to dominate the spotlight.


    The next day, Alicia Keys called her and said:


    ​”Never apologize for being dope.”


    In other words:


    Never say you’re greater than you are.


    But never say you’re not as great as you are, either.


    And never, ever leave without leaving a tip.

    • T


    ​P.S. Meanwhile, on X…

    I just answered the (weird) question:

    ​”Will meditation make me more money?”​



    “There are some days when I think I’m going to die from an overdose of satisfaction.” – Salvador Dali

    Before Salvador Dali became famous, he often signed restaurant cheques without paying.


    His reason:


    “Someday this signature will be worth far more than the meal.”


    Imagine being his waiter:


    You feed your family with the income you make from tips, and some dopey-looking mustached mfxer you’ve never heard of leaves you his autograph instead.


    Now imagine you keep his signature, just in case.


    ​And, ten years later, you buy yourself a damn house with it.


    Mustache doesn’t look so dopey now, does it?


    Of course, dining and dashing is still a dick move.


    And leaving your autograph instead of cash is unforgivably arrogant.


    But damn if it isn’t also kinda gangster.


    I’m sharing this story as an extreme example of a principle that came up on a recent Path AMA call:


    ​False humility is a lie.


    Reducing yourself, hiding your accomplishments, shrinking to avoid threatening others, pretending you’re less than you really are…


    …Is just as dishonest as over-inflating yourself.


    ​The only truthful response is the truth.


    No more, no less.


    Of course, Salvador wildly over-inflated the value of his signature, which wasn’t worth the paper it was written on until years later.


    (it only became true later on, which means it was still a lie in the moment)


    So I’ll leave you with one more example, before we wrap:


    A few years back, Billie Eilish cleaned out the Grammys, taking home five of the six awards she was nominated for.


    Each time her name was called, she would blush and look away in embarrassment:


    Shy, almost afraid to dominate the spotlight.


    The next day, Alicia Keys called her and said:


    ​”Never apologize for being dope.”


    In other words:


    Never say you’re greater than you are.


    But never say you’re not as great as you are, either.


    And never, ever leave without leaving a tip.

    • T


    ​P.S. Meanwhile, on X…

    I just answered the (weird) question:

    ​”Will meditation make me more money?”​



    ​Unsubscribe | Update your profile | 5-420 Erb St. W, Suite 433, Waterloo, ON N2L6K6

  • Nostalgia-jacking

    Today we’re weaponising nostalgia like a memory merchant dealing in pure, uncut feelings.

    Sometimes we go back to the good ol’ days.

    And we bust out the things that have been deeply rooted in our minds that take us back down memory lane.

    Case in point.

    Tonight I’m watching The Goonies again.

    I haven’t watched it in forever but talk of it with a friend brought all of those memories back.

    Nostalgia isn’t just a trip down memory lane. It’s emotional cocaine wrapped in the comfort blanket of your childhood.

    It’s that dial-up internet sound that still makes your brain tingle. It’s the smell of Pop-Tarts on Saturday morning while watching cartoons.

    It’s the feeling of being young and unbroken, before the world decided to put our dreams in a box and pop on a shelf a little higher than our reach.

    And now we’re going to hijack those feelings…

    WHY?

    Because nostalgia hits harder than:

    Your first breakup

    That time you tried to fight a goose

    My ninth cup of coffee

    The realisation that you’re now older than the parents in Home Alone

    When you tap into nostalgia, you’re not just writing, you’re performing temporal surgery on your readers’ hearts.

    You’re reaching through time and space to grab them by their emotional giblets and whisper, “Remember when everything didn’t suck?”

    And so we weaponise the past.

    1. EMOTIONAL ARCHAEOLOGY

    Dig up those feelings like you’re Indiana Jones of the soul:

    • The sound of a GameBoy starting up
    • The taste of Dunkaroos
    • The way your grandmother’s house smelled when she baked an apple pie
    • That one summer when everything was perfect
    1. MEMORY MIXOLOGY

    Blend the old with the new like some kind of time-traveling bartender:

    • Modern problems, retro solutions
    • Old school feelings, new school delivery
    • Yesterday’s comfort, today’s chaos
    1. TACTICAL FEELING DEPLOYMENT

    Drop those nostalgia bombs with surgical precision:

    • Reference the shared past
    • Twist the familiar
    • Make them feel safe, then punch them in the feels

    People don’t just want to remember.

    They want to feel. They want to reconnect with that version of themselves that still believed in magic, that thought where adulthood would have more sword fights.

    If we could build a time machine and feed it emotion for fuel, then we’d never have issues connecting with people via our words.

    Stephen Walker

    And if you wanna discover the little tricks to apply this to your writing, your marketing and your life come join us below
    https://stphnwlkr.com/theleague

    P.S. Yes, I wrote this while wearing my original Goonies t-shirt that’s 15+ years old…

    P.P.S. The squirrels watching through my window seem nostalgic today. They’re probably remembering simpler times, before they started working for the government.

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    Stephen Walker
    Unit 146317
    PO Box 7169
    Poole
    BH15 9EL
    United Kingdom

  • Kobe nailed this

    “Some of our greatest breakthroughs came when everything seemed to be falling apart.” – Phil Jackson

    Kobe Bryant once described Phil Jackson’s coaching style like this:


    (paraphrasing because I can’t find the exact quote…)


    “Imagine a ship lost at sea, tossed around by storms, crew panicking, scrambling to stay afloat.


    This goes for weeks and months.


    Until, one day, the ship washes up on the shore of its destination.

    Fully intact. Safe and sound. Mission accomplished.


    That’s Phil.”


    ​In other words:

    Phil was a master at turning chaos into opportunity, not only because he embraced chaos…

    But because he would actually create chaos:


    Throwing his team into storms and forcing them to find their way, like a ship captain who teaches his crew how to swim by tossing them overboard.


    For example:


    He refused to call timeouts when opposing teams caught fire, insisting his players find solutions on the fly.


    He deliberately mis-matched players in practice, pushing them into unfamiliar positions.


    He changed rules mid-scrimmage without warning (once causing MJ to storm out of the gym).


    He gifted books to his players that were intentionally triggering; forcing his players to see uncomfortable sides of themselves.


    He even manipulated the media to create drama between his star players.


    ​All on purpose.


    The result:


    Eleven championship teams, all famous for their cool, steady resolve under pressure.


    Teams that could brave storms, navigate crisis, and turn chaos into opportunity.


    Because, as Phil knew:


    ​Chaos is guaranteed.


    Nobody wins a world championship…


    …Or, for that matter, builds a successful business, creates a lifelong relationship, raises a happy family, reaches mastery, insert big goal here…


    …Without facing storms, chaos, and crisis.


    Repeatedly.


    And the defining feature of those who accomplish big goals, with no exceptions:


    Is that when chaos inevitably comes…


    When the waves crash, the wind howls, and the storm thunders overhead…


    When others retreat and run for cover…


    ​They steady their stance, steel their mind, and step into the storm head-on.


    And, when the storm is too big to bear…

    They themselves become bigger.


    Happy Tuesday.

    • T


    P.S. In case you missed it yesterday…​



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