When you're rational, you do things carefully. Your rational mind turns on, and that's exactly what stops you from doing things others might see as irrational. Like laying bricks, one at a time.

When you're delusional, you might do things that are naive. When you do things naively, you learn from them. That's the learning opportunity. You understand "hey, maybe this isn't the right direction" or "maybe I shouldn't be doing this." You also start getting new ideas on how to better approach whatever the end goal is.

"They did not know it was impossible, so they did it."

— Mark Twain

Rationality can save us from catastrophe. But it can stop us from taking risks that could cause success. I have the personality to just go out and get what I want. I don't care what the naysayers have to say or what humiliation I go through. I think about "what if I succeed? I'll show them" with a chip on my shoulder.

My senior year of high school was the best year because I was delusional.

I told myself, "I'm going to become one of the most popular kids in school."

I had a part-time job at Dairy Queen. I bought better clothes, got into skate culture, and decided to talk to everyone. Popular kids, unknown kids, smart kids. I was hanging with them all. Building a "personal brand." I had zero F's and wanted to own the school. I don't remember how, but I somehow convinced teachers to let me get in and out of class at my own will. I had been playing guitar for a couple of years at that point. (Another story another time.) I wanted to become a better speaker, so I joined the speech class. My speech teacher was also my English teacher, Mr. Kreisel. Great guy. He decided we were going to perform for the whole school. The show was a blur but I think it was a mix of speeches, plays, and music. My buddy Luis and I volunteered to sing a song. A little cringe today, but at the time it was hot: Arms Wide Open by Creed. I learned the guitar part. Luis sang. The whole school watched us.

We killed it.

From that day on, sometime in March or April, we made it to the top of the social food chain. It was the best high school experience. For the record, I don't look back and convince myself that "those were the days." It was a great learning experience. I learned how to persuade and how to sell. I didn't know it at the time, but looking back, that was the main lesson.

In my twenties, I wanted to travel all over the world and have it paid for. I wanted to feel excited every day. I wanted to be...wanted. So the logical direction was to become a rock star. I learned to play drums around age 20. I practiced till my fingers bled, got pretty good, enrolled in music school as my excuse to rock out, somehow miraculously got accepted, and pursued the life of rock 'n roll. I quickly (three years) realized how much of an ungrateful, deceiving, and straight up evil business it is, so I stopped. It would've been a long and painful starving artist slog. Maybe I didn't love music enough to keep going. Whatever the case, I wasn't about that life after all. I met some heroes, saw how unhappy they were, and it threw me off. These guys have it all and they're unhappy? Screw this. It was time to move on.

You could say I failed. It doesn't matter, though. I tried it. I looked the beast straight in the eye, face to face. I learned more about our individual wants. I saw the ugly side of humans. I also felt power on stage. But once I got off stage, it was over. Back to mingling among conniving, selfish organisms.

In my 30s, I decided to start a podcast. I had been working as a designer in obscurity. I discovered celebrity designers and wondered how they were getting attention - and cool work. I wanted to get cool work. I mean, no shade on them, but some of them were just putting their personality out via social media. The work was kind of subpar. Others were phenomenal and really into their work. I learned everything I needed about podcasting. From software to how to publish audio. I had already been building websites, so I built a website for the project. Then I went on to promote online. Well, it was all online. I learned how to convince people to get on the show. I had no business interviewing people. I sucked at it, even. But I kept going. Somehow guests kept saying yes. I was kind of enjoying it at first, but then it became a job. I had my day job and worked on this at night. It was hard.

I was already married. One night my wife said that I was overworking myself. We were trying to start a family and I was burning myself out at the same time. Just as the podcast had taken off, I decided to call it quits cold turkey. I wanted a family more.

What did I learn from creating the podcast? Those who were successful carreerwise and financially were the hardest working. Not the most talented. They showed up the most. It answered my original question.

While my wife and I tried starting a family, doctors told us we would not be able to have kids. We were devastated and almost gave up. At one point, you could say my wife was delusional. She insisted that the doctors didn't know what they were talking about. I believed it. We did anything and everything to prove them wrong. Scientific methods, Chinese medicine, diet. We had given up things like coffee and any fast food whatsoever. We made it a habit to get a full eight hours of sleep daily. No partying, no drinking, no eating out. We were serious.

Medical professionals still had no hope. One doctor asked me point blank, "Why did you wait so long?" She told me I had messed up. I felt like shit. One and a half years later, our son was born. He's a bright and loving kid. He learned how to read at three. Then, unexpectedly, our daughter was born. Beautiful, feisty, and sweet.

Be delusional. We don't need others to give us permission. People outside might think they have your best interest. They know what they know but don't know what they don't.

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