Narrative of Convenience

February 11

Good morning, friend.

If you were to develop, say, the perfect chef in a test tube, you’d probably begin with a great pedigree.

Have them born into a family with a proud tradition of Michelin Stars and innovative flavor. Raise them on a steady dose of basil chiffonade and foie gras. Bless them with the palate of the gods, the intellect of a supergenius, and the business acumen of a Harvard MBA.

There’d be several key pivotal moments in their life: epiphanies at early ages about the nature of food, flavor, and hospitality. They’d ace culinary school by 15, stage-ing their way to sous chef by 16, and launching their own restaurant chain by 20.

Of course, for us, that ship has already sailed. The universe fucked up and left us to our parents instead of the perfect situation. And it’s not just the fates conspiring against us: we’ve made our own beds to sleep in, letting all the opportunities for greatness pass us by.

And look—it could very well be that the greatness functions that way. Cooking, music, writing, any creative or business endeavor, you probably do need at least some of the stars to align in your favor to climb to the top.

But none of us choose where we’re born. None of us can go back in time. And none of us can, even for a second, make the stars veer from their predetermined paths. It’s ultimately not in our control.

That makes this story about greatness a narrative of inconvenience. A story where, even if it’s true, if we believe it to be true, it prevents us from taking helpful action.

So if self control is part of the goal, let’s instead find a narrative of convenience:

The people who are the best in your field are, ultimately, no different than you. The advantages of circumstance, intellect, or resources are, if they are real, marginal. Like a boost of 10% efficacy on effort.

The ultimate determining factor in greatness in any field is time.

Specifically, time spent intentionally getting better.

Time you still have.

Is that true or false? Who knows.

But by believing it to be true, you might find you know exactly what you need to do with your day.

Morning Reading is a daily email to help center yourself, reflect, and prepare for the day. It’s sent with love from your friend, Zach in Austin, Texas. He even drew the logo himself.

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