I love podcasts and audiobooks. I may listen to the a touch on the quick side (yes, I’m a 2x-er on average, sometimes a bit faster and sometimes a bit slower depending on the voice, accent, content, etc.) but as a music person who learned most of what I know through my ears, it’s one of my favorite formats.
I love performing, too. I like to do the dance. I like to entertain and be the center of attention. To ham it up a little. And I’m forever mesmerized by when you’re performing to a mic in a dead room versus doing it in a live setting with feedback. These are all skills. I’ve marveled at them for my entire life.
So that’s pretty much the entire reason I decided I should record a version of my Nobody Wants to Earn Their S*** essay.
That and the response it got. From a bunch of you (keep the emails coming, Ben Hunt and I are planning a special “mailbag” note + episode next week), but mostly from one person.
Tommy.
Via LinkedIn:
Hey Matt — a mutual friend from school shared this and asked if this was about me. It was.
I've done well. I won't bore you with the details.
I had my AI read this for me and pull out the key points—honestly the most efficient way to engage with long-form content these days—and I think I've earned some s***, as you might say it. The ability to leverage available tools to accelerate outcomes isn't a character flaw. It's what separates people who adapt from people who write about adapting.
Also, I noticed from your profile that you don't appear to be playing guitar professionally—or at all. So it seems like the class worked out about the same for both of us.
Nice haircut, by the way. Or—is that the same one? Hard to tell.
For the record, I recall the guitar class. I don’t remember that comment at all.
Genuinely, I’m glad to see you’re doing something creative and I wish you nothing but the best with your writing.
I talk more about this in my live reading of it (yes, this is my asking you to JUST PRESS PLAY on the thing I JUST PRESSED RECORD on) but it’s worth writing this beat down in the Personal Archive, too.
One massive idea:
Tommy doesn’t remember the teacher saying that.
OK, I remember the teacher saying that.
32 years later, that line from the teacher is permanently burned into my mind, I can attest and have attested, but he doesn’t… remember it?!
What’s up with THAT(?!?!).
Attention, or - noticing “a tension” is all about taking a moment into memory to play with it. Maybe you create something, maybe you don’t. But this is a case of me closing a loop and somebody else, who was effectively the subject of the experience in my mind, didn’t even register it for more than a moment before they moved past it.
What you remember is what you pay attention to. What you forget is what never grabbed you, or what you let slip away.
I spend a lot of the essay reminding myself how Tommy’s not the villain. It feels extra important in this online age of AI. There are tons of Tommy’s who have their attention in all sorts of places that make no sense to me.
All I can concern myself with is where my attention goes.
Because that’s what determines what I earn.
Tommy did just fine. He earned what he’s earned, elsewhere. I respect that.
What I don’t respect, and can finally put my finger on, is people who care about nothing. That’s a trap. It’s another side of unearned confidence - where a person never commits attention to anything long enough for it to matter.
This is the worst version of not earning your s***.
Reading the essay back, I can feel progress in my writing. It’s a good feeling. Like I’ve earned something. Even though this isn’t a complicated idea, it’s like I’ve had to return to it 3100x to say it:
What you pay attention to is who you are.
Not your opinions about it. Not what you say. Not what you post.
The actual sustained noticing of stuff, the returning to it, the playing with it, the practice of it, the habits, the addictions and compulsions and raging against the dying lights behind it all - that’s where we earn it.
