Before you push harder, ask whether you're even solving for the right thing.

Before you read, tune in.

This issue lives in Noise, inherited input, the water you swim in.

There's a track for it. Listen →

Press play. Let it set the room. Then read.

(No rush. The words will wait.)

I've spent most of my life solving problems.

Give me something broken and my brain immediately starts pulling it apart.

What's causing this?

What changed?

Where's the constraint?

What's the variable nobody is looking at?

I did this with physical products for decades.

If something failed during manufacturing, you couldn't just stare at the finished product and guess.

Maybe the material was wrong.

Maybe the temperature changed.

Maybe a tolerance was off by a fraction of an inch.

Maybe the tooling was wearing out.

Maybe the problem happened three steps earlier and only became visible at the end.

You had to find the actual variable.

Otherwise you'd spend enormous amounts of time improving something that wasn't causing the problem.

We do this constantly in business.

And I think we do it even more in life.

We solve for the wrong variable.

"I'm not making enough money."

So you solve for more revenue.

More customers.

More deals.

More hours.

More.

But what if revenue isn't actually the problem?

What if you make plenty of money but spend almost all of it?

What if the margins suck?

What if the business requires you to personally produce every dollar?

What if the thing you actually want isn't more revenue?

What if you want freedom?

Those are different problems.

A $10 million company that requires seventy hours a week from you may be a terrible solution to a freedom problem.

Meanwhile, a much smaller company with extraordinary margins, a tiny team and four hours of your attention each day might solve it beautifully.

If the variable is revenue, the first company wins.

If the variable is freedom, maybe it doesn't.

That's why the question matters.

What are you actually solving for?

I've been asking myself that a lot.

Because I spent decades solving for things I thought mattered.

Growth.

Scale.

Revenue.

Opportunity.

Deals.

Bigger.

I built.

Bought.

Sold.

Failed.

Started again.

And there were seasons where the scoreboard looked incredible.

But eventually you have to ask:

Was I playing the right game?

That's uncomfortable.

Especially when you're good at the game.

Because being good at something can keep you from questioning whether it's worth winning.

Maybe you've become incredibly productive.

You can process more email.

Take more meetings.

Finish more tasks.

Manage more people.

Get more done.

Fantastic.

But what are you solving for?

If you're trying to create more time...

Becoming better at filling every available minute may be the exact opposite solution.

Maybe you're solving for followers when you actually need customers.

Maybe you're solving for customers when you actually need margin.

Maybe you're solving for margin when you actually need simplicity.

Maybe you're solving for status when you actually want belonging.

Maybe you're solving for attention when you actually want connection.

Maybe you're solving for certainty when you actually need courage.

Maybe you're solving for being needed when you actually want to feel loved.

Those are radically different equations.

And the dangerous part is that the wrong variable can still produce impressive results.

That's what makes this difficult.

You can become extremely successful at solving the wrong problem.

Imagine climbing a mountain faster than everybody else...

only to discover you don't want to be on that mountain.

Your speed doesn't help.

Your discipline doesn't help.

Your accomplishments don't help.

You optimized the wrong thing.

I think a lot of people feel this but don't have language for it.

They did what they were supposed to do.

Got the job.

Built the company.

Bought the house.

Made the money.

Built the audience.

Got promoted.

Stayed busy.

And somewhere along the way they look around and think:

Why doesn't this feel the way I thought it would?

Maybe nothing is wrong with you.

Maybe you got exactly what you optimized for.

It just wasn't what you actually wanted.

That's different.

And potentially much easier to fix.

Because now you can change the variable.

I've been doing that in my own life.

What am I actually solving for?

At 25, my answer would have been different.

At 35, different again.

Today?

I want freedom.

But even that word needs definition.

Freedom to do what?

I want to write.

Make music.

Speak.

Have meaningful conversations.

Help a small number of people where my experience creates enormous leverage.

Spend time with my wife.

Be present with my kids.

Move my body.

Walk outside.

Travel.

Create.

Think.

I don't want to spend my life administrating a machine I built because somebody told me bigger was better.

That's useful information.

Because now I can evaluate things differently.

If I only solve for revenue, I might accept an opportunity that creates a lot of money and destroys my calendar.

Bad solution.

If I solve for status, I might build something enormous that I secretly hate running.

Bad solution.

If I solve for maximum growth, I might hire fifty people when I actually wanted a company with five.

Bad solution.

Not because those things are inherently bad.

Because they don't solve my problem.

Someone else may want the fifty-person company.

Build the shit out of it.

Someone else may want to work eighty hours a week building a billion-dollar company.

Go.

Someone else may want fame.

Amazing.

The point isn't that one variable is better than another.

The point is to know which one is yours.

Otherwise you'll inherit one.

From your parents.

Your industry.

Instagram.

Your peers.

The business books.

Your neighborhood.

The people you admire.

Somebody will hand you a scoreboard.

And if you're not careful, you'll spend twenty years trying to win on it.

That's what makes comparison so destructive.

You don't know what the other person is solving for.

Maybe they're maximizing wealth.

You're maximizing time.

Maybe they're maximizing reach.

You're maximizing depth.

Maybe they're maximizing adventure.

You're maximizing stability.

Maybe they're building an empire.

You're building a life where you can pick your kid up from school.

Their strategy may be completely correct.

For their variable.

Copying it could be disastrous for yours.

This is why advice is so contextual.

People love telling you what you should do.

Scale.

Hire.

Raise money.

Sell.

Don't sell.

Build an audience.

Work harder.

Slow down.

Diversify.

Focus.

All of those can be excellent advice.

All of them can also be terrible advice.

Until I know what you're solving for, I don't know which one is true.

That's the question underneath the question.

Not:

How do I grow?

What are you solving for?

Not:

How do I make more money?

What are you solving for?

Not:

How do I become more productive?

What are you solving for?

Not:

Should I take this opportunity?

What are you solving for?

Because once the variable becomes clear, decisions that felt complicated can become surprisingly simple.

Maybe you don't need more.

Maybe you need less.

Maybe you don't need faster.

Maybe you need deeper.

Maybe you don't need another client.

Maybe you need a better client.

Maybe you don't need another business.

Maybe you need to finish the one you're already building.

Maybe you don't need more attention.

Maybe you need the attention of ten specific people.

Maybe you don't need to optimize your calendar.

Maybe you need to remove half of what's on it.

The solution changes when the problem changes.

So if you've been pushing incredibly hard and still feel like something isn't working, stop for a second.

Don't immediately push harder.

Look at the equation.

Ask yourself:

What am I actually trying to create?

Then look at what you've been measuring.

Are they the same thing?

Because the worst outcome isn't failing to solve the problem.

Sometimes it's spending years brilliantly solving a problem you never actually had.

The reading is done. Let it settle.

Listen →

Stay as long as you want. This is the part most people skip.

What are you actually solving for, and is it the same thing you've been measuring?

Raymond