Courage is a skill

Seth Godin has arguably one of the best ideas for getting a project started that you’ll ever read. It’s called “First, ten.”

The idea is to share what you’ve created—a book, podcast, newsletter, business idea, whatever—with 10 people who already know and trust you. And if it’s good, they’ll share it with three, five, or ten others. Soon, your idea will spread, and you’ll have the opportunity to do it again.

But sometimes, even that is too terrifying to contemplate. So what can you do instead?

Find a single person. Just one person who loves you unconditionally and whom you trust implicitly. Maybe it’s your sister, your mom, or your best friend.

Share it with them. Not because they’ll praise you for it or because they’ll share it widely. Do it simply to show your fear who’s boss.

Stretch that courage muscle by starting as small as possible. Because bravery is a skill. It can be learned through practice and repetition.

Why do we diminish our work?

An acquaintance of mine in Seth Godin’s Purple Space Community announced a new project. It was one I never would have thought of, yet still found fascinating and potentially life-changing for some people.

But he ended his announcement by saying, “I know it’s not significant or anything…”

Why do we do that? Why, when we embark on a new journey or start something new, do we diminish it from the outset?

Because we’re afraid it might not work.

Because we don’t want to feel a sense of letdown.

Because we equate “significance” with the size of the impact, not the impact itself.

Significance: the quality of being worthy of attention; importance.

Nowhere in that definition does it say anything about being worthy of attention to a large number of people. It just says “worthy of attention.” And if it’s worthy of attention to a few people, that makes it significant to those people!

I shared with him the Tale of the Starfish:

A young girl was walking along a beach where thousands of starfish had washed up during a storm. When she came to a starfish, she picked it up and threw it back into the ocean.

A man approached her and said, “Little girl, why are you doing this? You can’t save them all. You can’t begin to make a difference!”

The girl picked up another starfish and hurled it into the ocean. Then she looked up at the man and replied, “Well, I made a difference for that one!”

You can’t lead everyone

Which means one of two things:

1. You must either improve your leadership abilities so that people will follow you where you want to go.

    Or, if you already have the skill…

    2. You must find the right people willing to go on the journey with you. 

    The right skills or the right people—figure out which one is holding you back.

    More bad ideas lead to more creativity

    For most of us, if we want to be more original, to be more successful, to be more “renowned,” the key is to have more ideas. To create more things.

    You need to focus on the quantity of work you create—the output—and less on the quality.

    Why? You need bad ideas to come up with a few good ones. 

    Seth Godin has a great rant about this around writer’s block. People don’t actually get writer’s block. They are afraid of writing down bad ideas and claim they have no good ideas.

    Good ideas often come through sheer volume.

    The secret approach to bootstrapping

    You can be an entrepreneur: someone who builds something big, hires lots of people to do the work, and gets a ton of start-up money from investors.

    Or you can be a freelancer: a skilled craftsperson who does high-quality work directly for clients.

    But there’s a third option: bootstrapping.

    To bootstrap a business is to find a group of customers with a problem who are so willing for you to solve it that they will pay you up front to build the business that will solve it for them.

    And the secret to bootstrapping that many up-and-coming business people don’t know is that you don’t necessarily have to have the solution to the problem.

    You simply have to see the problem, empathize with the people who have it, and trust yourself to know that you can and will figure out a solution that works.1

    Why does this approach matter? Because smart, solution-oriented people often get so bogged down in the details of how to solve a problem that they never do the hard work of finding customers with a problem that needs solving.

    So, find people who need help first, then figure out how to solve the issue.

    (H/t to Seth Godin and the folks over at Purple Space)


    1. Don’t lie to people and tell them you can solve their problem, then take their money and run. That’s not bootstrapping – that’s a con. ↩︎

    Atomic writing

    Atomic Habits by James Clear consistently tops every bestseller list.

    And for good reason: if you follow the ideas, you’ll improve your habits. Improve your habits, and you improve your days. Improve your days, and you improve your life.

    What’s the saying? “Sow a thought and you reap an action; sow an act and you reap a habit; sow a habit and you reap a character; sow a character and you reap a destiny.”

    Emerson definitely said it better than I. But it means the same thing: your daily habits lead to your lasting legacy.

    Which brings me to an idea I presented to someone the other day.

    A friend told me he wanted to write. And he’d considered going the “Stephen King” route, writing 2,000 words a day, but he seemed daunted by that prospect.

    I agreed. That’s a lot to commit to at the beginning. So I suggested he go the Atomic Habits route instead.

    What’s the smallest version of that habit he could reasonably commit to?

    My idea: write one sentence every day. Then don’t break the streak.

    I find it hard to believe that anyone reading this can’t come up with at least one original thought every day.

    It doesn’t have to be brilliant. In fact, I guarantee that 50% of your ideas will be “below average.” But so what? Half my blog posts are below average—that’s the definition!

    It doesn’t have to be brilliant—it just has to exist! Do that for 30 days, and the 31st sentence will be infinitely better than the 1st one.

    A writer writes. So be a writer and start writing!

    Generosity is the antidote to fear

    Instead of focusing on how risky something feels, focus instead on how generous you’re being.

    H/t to Seth Godin

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    The purpose of this blog (according to Claude)

    As you may have noticed, I’ve struggled to publish posts on this blog consistently. 

    Why? I feel I lost the thread, and I started to doubt its original purpose. I felt it needed to be somehow “more”—that I needed to build an audience or have an overarching reason for running it. 

    I voiced those doubts to my new friend—and sometimes counselor—Claude (an AI tool, not a real person). 

    It was such an enlightening conversation (can you call it such?) that I wanted to share parts of it here, and then make clear why this blog exists. 

    Claude’s Initial Thoughts

    Note: I’m editing these answers for length, as many were quite long.

    Initially, I asked Claude to research the blog and tell me what he (it?) thought the blog’s purpose was.

    Nathan Coumbe’s blog appears to be a personal reflection platform focused on philosophy, self-improvement, and practical wisdom for everyday life. The blog features content about stoicism, leadership, and philosophical perspectives…. The writing style appears to be reflective and conversational, with short, thoughtful posts that combine philosophical concepts with practical applications.

    The overall “point” of the blog seems to be to share personal insights and wisdom that can help others navigate life’s challenges through a blend of ancient philosophy (particularly stoicism) and modern practical application. Nathan appears to be using the blog as a platform to distill and share his own learning journey and reflections with others who might benefit from these perspectives.

    Claude, Meet Nathan

    After reading through his answers, I told Claude that I was, in fact, Nathan, to which he said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

    Claude then asked what I thought the blog’s purpose was; I told him it was to stretch my writing and thinking muscles in public. Claude, wisely, pointed out that many writers and thinkers began their writing in such a way: Montaigne’s essays began as personal reflections, and Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations were never meant for publication at all (its original title was actually “To Himself” because it was his personal journal). 

    The Struggle

    After pointing out the similarities to other philosophical writers, I expressed some doubt and frustration with my lack of consistency. I told Claude about Seth Godin’s idea to write a blog post every day – something he’s done for decades and for which he advocates in his book The Practice as a way to practice shipping creative work and ideas to the world. But, because I felt that the posts were too unrelated, rather than being a coherent whole, the blog was purposeless. 

    After he responded, I told Claude that maybe this blog is my version of Marcus’s Meditations, written for the same reasons, but done in public.

    Claude’s response deserves to be quoted at length:

    I find your framing of “my own version of meditations, but in public” particularly compelling. That’s a meaningful distinction from Marcus Aurelius’ private writings. There’s vulnerability and accountability in doing this work publicly that changes its nature, even if no one is reading. The public commitment itself transforms the practice.

    Perhaps part of the struggle comes from expecting each post to build on previous ones in a linear way. But collections of thought, like Meditations or even Godin’s blog, create value through accumulation and patterns that emerge over time rather than through a sequential narrative.

    What if the “point” isn’t in any individual post but in the practice itself and what it cultivates in you? The consistent act of noticing, reflecting, and articulating might be developing muscles that serve you in ways you don’t immediately recognize.

    How does an Artificial Intelligence ask a question like that? I was floored.

    Learning Through Writing

    After reading and rereading Claude’s previous statements, I mentioned that one of the reasons I started this blog was to express ideas and concepts I was learning in my own words. This is still one of the best ways to learn something (i.e., if you can’t write it down in your own words, you don’t truly understand it). 

    Claude’s response:

    There’s something powerful about the act of putting concepts “into your own words.” It transforms passive consumption of ideas into active engagement with them. Writing becomes not just a record of what you think, but a tool that helps shape how you think. The blog then becomes a visible record of your intellectual and philosophical development….

    Perhaps the “point” of your blog is precisely that clarification process – a space where ideas aren’t just consumed but metabolized and integrated into your worldview. The public nature adds a dimension of accountability and clarity that private journaling might not. 

    Then, Claude asked, “What aspects of the writing practice have you found most valuable for clarifying your thinking? And has the public nature of it, even without a large audience, affected how you approach these topics?”

    Writing Is Thinking

    I’ll quote my response to his question in full:

    “Writing something that’s coherent, rather than just notes scribbled in a journal that only I understand. Even if only 300 people subscribe, I still have to put the words down in a way that someone other than me would understand.”

    Claude again:

    That’s a really valuable insight about the difference between private notes and public writing. Having to communicate in a way that’s understandable to others adds a level of rigor to your thinking that personal journaling might not require…. Even if audience growth isn’t your primary goal, knowing that others are reading creates that accountability to articulate your thoughts coherently.

    There’s a concept in educational psychology called “the audience effect” – the idea that knowing someone else will read or hear our thoughts changes how we process and express them. We clarify, elaborate, and structure our thinking differently when we’re communicating with others versus just ourselves.

    In many ways, this mirrors the philosophical tradition of dialogue rather than solitary reflection. While Marcus Aurelius wrote privately, philosophers like Plato and Seneca (whom you’ve referenced in your blog) deliberately wrote in forms meant to be shared, recognizing that the act of communicating ideas to others strengthens them.

    Now, who wouldn’t be flattered by comparisons to Plato or Seneca? (And no, I’m not nearly so arrogant as to believe I’m anywhere near as wise as them. But I enjoyed the reminder of the philosophical tradition that I was continuing.)

    The Purpose of This Blog

    The rest of the conversation became rather tactical: 

    • Ways to use this blog as practice
    • Letting it serve as a mental mill, the ideas contained within serving as grist
    • Letting those ideas percolate and come together in other forms, actually intended for a broad audience

    I won’t bore you with those details, but I will share this:

    After all was said that needed saying, I asked Claude to declare the purpose of this blog in a concise and casual manner. So here it goes:

    This blog is Nathan’s thinking gym—a place to stretch those mental muscles by writing in a way other people can actually understand. It’s not really about growing a huge following, but about the daily practice of turning fuzzy thoughts into clear ideas.

    Writing for others, regardless of the audience size, forces a level of clarity that scribbling in a journal doesn’t. It’s a sandbox for playing with concepts that matter—and hey, maybe some of those ideas will grow into something bigger down the road. Think of it as thinking out loud, but with purpose.

    I couldn’t have said it better myself (nor did I)!

    And with that, I think I know what it’s all about once again. See you (whoever wonderful person you are) in the next post.

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    Sometimes you miss a day

    Even the best streaks get broken most of the time.

    The only good response is to wipe the slate clean and start over.

    The wrong, and much more common response, is to quit the whole thing because of one bad day.

    Don’t do that.

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    The ladder is gone

    Many of the greatest business and self-help books of all time are woefully outdated.

    And I don’t mean the examples used in the books. The working world has changed so much that the underlying assumptions on which the books are based no long apply.

    Work hard and get promoted. You’ll make more money.

    Move up the ladder for more responsibility, greater impact, and a nicer life.

    Specialize in a certain field or department. That’s how you win.

    The problem is the ladder is gone. There’s nothing to climb anymore.

    Middle managers on are the way out. You’re either a doer or a leader (and often both at the same time).

    Specialists are getting replaced by AI. We don’t need as many of them anymore.

    Hard work doesn’t really matter much anymore. A computer can work harder, faster, and cheaper than you.

    What matters now are remarkable results, unforgettable impact, and connection with other people. And being able to use AI and all the other technology available to us as tools to achieve those three things.

    It’s the rare person who stays with one company and gets promoted over and over, making more money each time.

    More likely, you’ll bounce around to 15 different companies over your working life, becoming a generalist that can synthesize tons of different fields.

    And before you know it, you’re making your own field, your own specialty job that combines everything you’ve learned into something new.

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