From the Front Porch
The audit results were staring at me: 18 out of 20 conversations were people asking for advice. Only 2 were people who just wanted to connect.
But the real wake-up call came three days later.
I was having lunch with a friend. She was telling me about this weird dream she'd had where she was flying through a grocery store on a shopping cart. We were both laughing, and then she asked, "What's the weirdest dream you've had lately?"
I stared at her for a full ten seconds. Then I said, "I don't really remember my dreams. But I've been thinking about this new automation sequence that could really improve customer retention..."
She stopped mid-bite. "Damien, I asked about your dreams. Not your work dreams. Your actual dreams."
That's when Jake's words from four years ago, "you've become boring as f#$k," hit me like a freight train. I couldn't even access my own subconscious without filtering it through business metrics.
I'd optimized the wonder right out of myself.
A Hard Truth
I wasn't just giving too much advice to other people. I'd become incapable of existing without an agenda.
Every conversation had to have a point. Every interaction needed an outcome. I'd turned my entire life into a productivity hack.
That night, I lay in bed trying to remember the last time I'd done something just because it felt good. Not because it was efficient. Not because it served a purpose. Just because.
I couldn't.
Today's Shift
The Three Things That Brought Me Back to Life:
1. The Wonder Practice
I started paying attention to things that had nothing to do with optimization. The way shadows moved across my wall in the afternoon. How my energy drink tasted when I wasn't checking emails. The sound of rain.
Sounds ridiculous, but I'd forgotten that the world existed beyond my laptop screen. I started taking walks without podcasts. Sitting in silence without feeling guilty about "wasted time."
One morning, I watched a bird build a nest outside my window for twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of pure, purposeless observation. It was the most peaceful I'd felt in years.
2. The Story Resurrection
I had to relearn how to tell stories that weren't case studies. Stories that meandered. Stories that had no moral, no lesson, no actionable takeaway.
I started small... sharing random memories that served no purpose. The time I got lost in a corn maze as a kid. The weird conversation I overheard at the coffee shop. Dreams that made no sense.
Those purposeless stories taught me something I'd forgotten: not everything needs to be useful to be valuable.
3. The Useless Conversation
I started having conversations that served no purpose. Talking to the barista about her weekend plans. Asking my neighbor about his garden. Chatting with strangers in line at the grocery store.
No networking. No agenda. No follow-up. Just human beings acknowledging each other's existence.
The first few felt awkward, I kept waiting for the "point." But slowly, I remembered what it felt like to connect without wanting something in return.
A few weeks ago, I made it a point to spent fifteen minutes talking to an elderly man at the airport about his grandson's baseball game. I'll never see him again. It was perfect.
What's Next
Tomorrow: The Energy Audit - Now that we've subtracted the mechanical and rediscovered the human, we'll look at what actually fills your soul versus what just fills your schedule.
Bottom Line
That lunch conversation taught me I'd become a human doing instead of a human being.
Jake was right four years ago. But today, when friends ask about my dreams, I actually have answers that don't involve conversion rates. That shift didn't happen overnight, it took four years of remembering that efficiency isn't everything.
Your expertise built your career. Your wonder builds your soul.
— Damien
P.S. Last night I dreamed I was riding a giant hamster through a library made of cheese. When I told my friend, she said, "Now THAT'S more like it." I'm finally getting good at being useless again.
