Midlife MavericksLast week my son had emergency surgery. Appendicitis, no warning, a regular Friday that turned into a hospital corridor at 8pm. Same week, our cat nearly died. Both kids home for half-term, work situations that couldn’t wait. He’s fine now, recovering on the sofa, but the week was a write-off.
I had about 40% of my usual capacity. My phone kept lighting up with newsletters about record-breaking quarters and LinkedIn posts about outworking everyone in the room. And that corrosive thought crept in: everyone else is still going.
Quote of the Week
“You don’t have a right to the cards you believe you should have been dealt. You have an obligation to play the hell out of the ones you’re holding.”
Cheryl Strayed, Tiny Beautiful Things
“Steven Bartlett doesn’t wipe bottoms”
If you’ve been on Instagram recently, you’ve probably seen some version of this line. It started as a Reel back in February and has been doing the rounds ever since. “Steven Bartlett doesn’t change nappies.” “Steven Bartlett doesn’t wipe bums.” It’s become shorthand for something worth talking about.
Look, I’m a huge Diary of a CEO fan. I’ve taken real things from that podcast and applied them to how I run my business. But he’s a man in his early thirties with no children and no school runs. When he says “discipline is doing it when you don’t feel like it,” he’s talking about pushing through a bad mood or a slow morning. You’re pushing through a child’s surgery and the guilt of knowing your inbox is filling up while you sit in a waiting room.
Both things are true. The content is valuable. And the life it comes from looks nothing like yours. You have to hold those two facts at the same time.
Advice is autobiography
Last week, Alex and Leila Hormozi announced they’re expecting their first child. If you don’t know them: they built a business empire partly on content about working brutally hard, all the time. The 100-hour weeks. The “no one is working as hard as you think they are” energy. I’ve learned from their content too. Some of it has been useful.
But advice is always autobiography. It’s shaped by the life of the person giving it. And when that life changes, the advice changes too. Having a baby rewires how you relate to time and to the idea that you can simply outwork a problem. I’ll be watching how their content evolves, because it’ll prove the point. Context is everything.
The same business book hits differently when you read it at 32, single, no dependents, versus 47 with two teenagers and a business built around school runs. The words on the page haven’t changed. You have.
The real skill
Keep reading the books and listening to the podcasts. There is plenty worth learning from people whose lives look nothing like yours.
But learn to extract what applies to where you actually are and leave the rest on the table. Your Tuesday included a hospital. Theirs included a content studio. The advice lands differently in those two weeks, and you’re the only one who can tell which bits are useful and which bits are noise.
A founder with no dependents who works 14-hour days has a structural advantage that has nothing to do with talent or discipline. Comparing your output to theirs is like comparing a sprint time at sea level to one at altitude. Same effort. Different physics.
OWN IT
Last week, I gave everything I had. That 40% was my 100%. If your week looked anything like mine, or if summer is already making you feel like you’re doing everything badly, do the maths. You gave what you had. That is enough.
You are building something real, inside a life with real constraints. Your output is meant to fluctuate because your priorities shift. Anyone who tells you otherwise hasn’t had a week like yours yet. Life already has enough shit in it without you adding a made-up scoreboard.
Your move this week: Reply to this email with one thing you did in the last seven days that you’ve been dismissing as “not enough.” The client email you sent from a hospital chair. The half-hour of focused work you squeezed between school runs. I want to hear it.
See you Wednesday
