For four years, productivity content consumed my life. From Tim Ferriss to Jordan Peterson, I devoured every podcast and YouTube video promising self-improvement. My YouTube feed is filled with productivity gurus teaching systems for optimal living - Cal Newport's deep work principles, Thomas Frank's study techniques, Matt D'Avella's 30-day habit building, and Ali Abdaal's time-management methods.
The pandemic lockdown fed this self-improvement obsession. Stuck in my room with low self-esteem, I wanted to get better at something - anything. My days revolved around optimizing every hour. I'd wake up remembering Jordan Peterson's command to make my bed. I see sunlight every morning, just like Andrew Huberman told me. I'd structure work around perfect 45-minute Pomodoro sessions with precisely 15-minute breaks.
The compulsion to optimize my life expanded into taking notes during podcasts. I'd pause every five minutes to write notes. My Apple Notes overflowed with productivity frameworks, life hacks, and success principles. But, each pause ruined the conversation, and each note gave me additional pressure to figure out how to implement it in my life. I felt devastated as I was no longer enjoying the conversation since I was busying myself with taking notes.
I also felt guilty if I didn't apply each insight perfectly. Like I was wasting my time. This whole quest for self-improvement had become a source of anxiety.
Then Tim Ferriss introduced a liberating idea: the good shit sticks.
"Don't stress about capturing everything. The standout insights have a strong foothold in your mind. They'll stay with you or surface when needed. Just stay present and let the initial imprint form."
This shifted everything.
As I let go of the compulsion to control the information I was consuming, I noticed something fascinating: most advice was not that important, but certain ideas resonated so deeply that I couldn't get it out of my head for days. It feels like the stars are aligned: my ancestor's trauma, genes, childhood issues, and past wounds brought me to this particular one-line idea that hit me like a brick.
I started to learn that the only way to notice the good shit is to embrace the present moment and just listen carefully to every word being said.
Like Alex Hormozi's insight about time horizons, my stress came from demanding instant success in new endeavors. But if I extended my timeline for success, the pressure would be lifted. This connected with my own pattern of abandoning projects when immediate results didn't appear and I couldn't commit to them for the long term.
Another sticky insight is that consistency builds like a muscle. Just as no one starts lifting weights five times every week, habits grow gradually. This transformed how I approach new practices—starting with once every week and then building frequency as the habit strengthens.
The most profound realization came from understanding true learning. Consuming content isn't learning - action is the ultimate form of learning. No amount of notes or highlighted quotes can replace actual implementation. One implemented insight outweighs a hundred notes.
This understanding transformed my relationship with content consumption. Now, I approach each podcast or video differently. Instead of hunting for every possible lesson, I listen for ideas that speak to my core experience. Rather than maintaining an endless database of wisdom, I let powerful insights find me naturally.
When an idea truly resonates - connecting with my experiences, challenges, and emotional truths - it sticks without effort. These types of insights surface when needed without complex note-taking systems.
I learned that one actionable insight makes a podcast worthwhile. True growth comes from implementing a few powerful ideas rather than documenting hundreds of concepts. I've learned to trust that meaningful insights will stick naturally.
The endless drive to optimize every piece of content paradoxically made me less effective at actual improvement. I've created space for actual learning and growth by releasing the compulsion to capture everything.
Learning happens through action, not notes.
The good shits find us when we're ready to use them.
💡 Life Update
🔊 Podcast binge-ing: How Mike Posner built his music empire from his dorm room.
💎 My favorite quote of the week: "All growth requires loss. A loss of your old values, your behaviors, your old loves, your old identity. Therefore, sometimes, growth has a component of grief to it. - Mark Manson.”
📚 Books I'm reading: 86% of The Way to Love: The Last Meditations of Anthony de Mello.
🛠️ Business I'm working on: Creator Bullets (I help online coaches and entrepreneurs to build digital assets that turn audience into clients: Newsletters, email courses, and lead magnets that boost sales in 90 days).
📨 Interesting read: Gurwinder Bhogal's Guide to Modern Survival.
Hey Wyndo, this is awesome! Letting go of that pressure to capture everything does feel like the adult version of realizing you don't need to finish every book you start. Honestly, I'd print 'The good shit sticks' on a mug, except I'd probably forget where I put it. This was delightfully human—thank you for writing it.