[ Mindset & Cognition ]

Don’t believe those online ‘gurus’ and their nonsense. Not everyone has the attention span of a gnat. # If there’s one thing I can’t stand in the marketing world, it’s those ‘case closed’ pronouncements. How about you? “SEO is dead. Facebook is for grandmas. No one watches ads anymore. TV commercials? They’re just background noise, completely ignored.” I say, Chad, none of those things are dead. It’s just that you don’t know how to use them correctly, or they don’t apply to your specific industry.

The Truth Behind the Glamour of Remote Work # Over the past two decades, the digital nomad community has left its mark, both in the workplace and in broader cultural spheres. Ever since the advent of Tim Ferriss’s groundbreaking bestseller, The 4-Hour Workweek, coupled with Instagram’s rise to popularity, more and more people began desperately seeking ways to combine remote work with social media-worthy travel.

Rewind to 2016, and the term ‘boss babe’ was absolutely everywhere. Fast forward to 2025, and that tide has definitively turned. It’s almost as if the ‘boss babes’ ran so the ’laid-back millionaires’ could comfortably jog, or even nap. To be clear, I’m not saying this with any negativity; it’s more like the pure curiosity Steve Irwin (the Crocodile Hunter) had for animals. But honestly, when the rest of us are knee-deep in the trenches, pulling our hair out over our ventures, watching others effortlessly rake in millions—or make bank just by posting cute dachshund videos—it does sting a little.

Reading them twice will help you elevate your thinking, hone your strategies, and sort out your entire system. Every time I re-read a book, I always unearth wisdom I hadn’t noticed before. This gradual accumulation allows me to see the path ahead more clearly, take more confident steps, and find ways to lead my business to where I want it to be more quickly. These books are especially suited for us solo entrepreneurs. The advice they offer is far superior to those MBA-style textbooks that always push you to scale up, hire employees, and expand your company to the heavens.

Let’s be brutally honest, no holds barred – ego (or arrogance) is the invisible killer of dreams. It’s not a lack of money. It’s not algorithm issues. It’s not even failure itself. It’s that little voice in your head constantly whispering: “I already know all this.” “I don’t need help.” “I can do it myself.” Especially in the world of online wealth generation, I’ve seen countless newbies miss out on so many incredible opportunities. It’s not because they lack talent or effort – it’s because they believe they don’t need guidance from others. They’re too proud to ask for help, distrust the wisdom of those who’ve gone before, and insist on going it alone, ignoring advice.

AI Is Not Actually a Technology # Historically, world-changing technologies didn’t devour industries with such speed. Consider the automobile, invented in 1886. The number of horses didn’t truly begin to decline until 1920. By the same token, the Wright brothers took flight in 1903, but commercial aviation didn’t truly become widespread until the 1960s. Even the internet was slow to spread. Early internet service providers like AOL became widely adopted around 1990, but by 2000, only about half of the North American population had internet access.

For years, I’d considered buying a first-class ticket one of the most pointless ways to spend money. Why shell out thousands, or even tens of thousands, for a seat when economy class gets you to the same destination at the same time? What’s the real difference in the end? I always told myself that if I ever had an extra couple of thousand, or even ten thousand, dollars, I’d rather spend it on a proper vacation – maybe a luxurious hotel stay, a gourmet meal, or more exciting experiences – than waste it on a few extra hours of legroom or a reclining seat.

In many ways, my life defies logic. They say only 10% of writers make a living solely from their craft, yet I earn over six figures annually without ever leaving my house. New York millennials have the third-lowest homeownership rate in the country, but I bought my home alone at 28. The odds of finding a literary agent are one in six thousand, yet I signed with one last October. I wake up before dawn every day and work incredibly hard — but the truth is, I’ve been manifesting my dream life since I was 12 years old.

The photo was stunning, quite possibly the best I’ve ever taken. I was perched at Summit One Vanderbilt, Manhattan’s new sky-high playground for social media enthusiasts. I’d somehow managed to capture my teenage son, Charlie, striking what he considered his most perfect pose. The light was magical, the backdrop spectacular, and Charlie looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine. Now, I’m no Annie Leibovitz, you understand. My photography skills typically hover somewhere between ’enthusiastic amateur’ and ‘dad with an iPhone’ – definitely leaning heavily towards the latter. But somehow, in that moment, with the sunset light streaming through the observation deck’s geometric glass panels and Charlie’s natural pose, it all just clicked.

A group of new angel investors approached me, asking for help evaluating some startups they were considering. They were stunned when I told them the company everyone saw as having the most potential actually had a problem. To be fair, the company had a lot going for it: a clear problem, a compelling solution, and a healthy number of early adopters. But the very thing they were most excited about was my biggest concern: the two founders. The company was started by two childhood friends. They were roommates at Stanford, still lived together years after graduation, came up with the startup idea together, and quit their jobs together. They were, essentially, the type of founding duo whose lives revolved around cheap burritos and all-night coding sessions.

Halfway through the flight to Australia, I felt it. Not fear, not excitement. Just a sadness I couldn’t quite name. The seatbelt sign extinguished, and the cabin lights dimmed. Around me, some watched movies, others poked at their in-flight meals. I just sat there, my tray table down, my coffee slowly growing cold. My mind kept drifting to my mother. The way she held me at London Heathrow Airport. Her fingers still hooked on my jacket, as if not quite ready to let go. She looked tired. I told her I wanted to travel, but the words felt rehearsed, as if it wasn’t my decision at all, but rather something I’d had to convince myself to accept.