What if I’m the only one?

How do you solve problems for others you’ve not solved for yourself?

It feels like there’s an ah-ha moment in this one, so let’s dig in. Assuming I am my own ideal customer profile (ICP), what’s that guy look like?

Middle-aged suburban male. Married. Gainfully employed. Above average income. No longer treading water, but still swimming in debt. Recognizes the only way to make significantly more money these days is by changing companies or starting his own business. Wants supplemental income. Wants to diversify his income stream so as to no longer be as dependent on corporate whims.

What skills does he have? What’s in his toolbox?

He’s been doing his own thing for a decade. Publishing his own magazine-themed blog. He’s started and managed vibrant online communities, built his own engines, met like minds around the world, both digitally and in person. He’s built corporate training programs, and sat through enough overpriced, white label certification programs purchased by employers to know where things fall apart.

He knows how the sausage is made—but he doesn’t want to make sausage. He believes there are people out there like him who want something more—because HE wants something more.

I gotta tell ya, that’s the real deal, right there. That’s me.

The good thing about being your own ICP is how intimately you understand your ICP.

The problem with being your own ICP is—you can’t help anyone until you’ve figured it out for yourself.

Discovery: I’m still constraining things in the same box.

To the man with the hammer, every problem looks like a nail.

Back to the drawing board.

It’s a little scary, if not also inspired.

I think my cerebellum just fused.

The consensus among some of my most trusted advisors is I should reach out to my most engaged supporters, asking them what they think I should be doing with The Gearhead Project.

It’s a great idea, but what if I reach out to the dozen or so people whose opinions I trust the most, and they generally suggest I do things I’ve no interest in doing?

Because that’s what’s been happening so far.

It’s a little scary, if not also inspired.

Note: Most of this week’s updates are coming right out of my inbox.

Happy Birthday, Brother & Sister 2018

What did I say last year?

To my brother, who STILL likes most of these: Was this your year? When you look back on the last 365 days, how many of them were better? What are you doing about the rest? It’s time to figure out what YOU really want—and make THAT happen. 40 is coming for you. And 40 is the new 20. You’ve got 365 days, 52 weeks, 12 months—a FULL YEAR—to plot a course, take those baby steps forward, and hit your 40th at full-speed.

You can do it. I believe in you.

To my sister, You’re STILL one of the smartest, funniest, savviest people I’ve ever met. Over the years, I’ve watched you crush it day-in, day-out—and I know a lot of those days have crushed YOU in the process. Stay nimble. Take no shit. It’s not a stretch to think thousands of people have been impacted by YOUR insights around people and process. Treat YOURSELF like one of your clients this year. And watch the whole world get out of your way.

You are your most important client.