The Chase Jarvis LIVE Show

Chase Jarvis

Chase Jarvis is a visionary photographer, artist and entrepreneur. Cited as one of the most influential photographers of the past decade, he is the founder & CEO of CreativeLive. In this show, Chase and some of the world's top creative entrepreneurs, artists, and celebrities share stories designed to help you gain actionable insights to recognize your passions and achieve your goals.

  1. Jeff Boyd: Why Hard Things Are the Opportunity

    4d ago

    Jeff Boyd: Why Hard Things Are the Opportunity

    Hey friends, Chase here Jeff Boyd is on the show today, and this conversation is about building the kind of life and business that does not always look like the predominant story on the internet. Jeff is the founder and chairman of MTE, More Than Energy, which he describes in this episode as "an energy that loves you back." Before that, he spent 15 years as the President and co-owner of Luggage Free, where he expanded global operations to more than 100 countries before selling the company in 2019. What I loved about this conversation is that it is not the usual story about chasing the next app, raising venture capital, or building something because the internet told you that is what entrepreneurship is supposed to look like. This is a conversation about physical products, unsexy businesses, competition, fatherhood, leadership, and what it means to keep choosing hard things on purpose. Jeff says it plainly right at the top: "That's why I tell my team all the time. They just look at me and I'm like, if it were easy, everybody be doing it. We got to do what nobody else is willing to do, and then you're going to be happy we did it. And I tell them that I'm like, oh yeah, this is hard. And I'm excited about it. Because now that's an opportunity for us because we'll outwork anybody." That idea is at the center of this episode. We talk about the grind of building something real, why curiosity matters more than credentials, what sports teach us about business, why leadership is not about personality type, and how the best things in life often come down to loving the process instead of obsessing over the outcome. Why This Conversation Matters Right Now Most of the entrepreneurs and creators we see online are building in public, building digitally, or building something that looks like the current version of what the internet rewards. There is nothing wrong with that, but it is not the only path. In this episode, I say: "A lot of folks I know in the audience feel a pressure to make their businesses walk and talk and look like the creators and the entrepreneurs that see out there in the world, which is one of the reasons I want to start celebrating some people who are building really successful lives, careers." That is why I wanted to have Jeff on the show. He built and sold a shipping business. Now he is building a physical product in the health and wellness space. He is not chasing the obvious thing. He is not trying to make his work look like everyone else's. Jeff's path is a reminder that there is a whole world of entrepreneurship outside the digital-first story. There are products, services, local businesses, physical goods, retail shelves, manufacturing problems, customer conversations, teams, families, and real-life constraints. And sometimes, that is where the opportunity is. What We Explore in This Episode Jeff's early business story and how he became employee one at a shipping company before helping grow it around the world. The "answer is yes" mindset that helped Luggage Free expand into all 50 states and more than 100 countries. Why physical products are different and what changes when you are building with atoms instead of bits. The origin of MTE and why Jeff wanted to build "an energy that loves you back." What it means to enjoy the grind when the work is hard, relentless, and full of problems you do not know how to solve yet. Fatherhood, presence, and time and why Jeff says he is "so all in now" with his family. Competition, sport, and business and why Jeff still trains and competes as a long jumper. Leadership and authenticity and why Jeff says people do what you do, not what you say you do. Second and third career arcs and what Jeff has learned about zooming out, building teams, and letting people play the right roles. The Core Idea: If It Were Easy, Everybody Would Be Doing It One of the strongest threads in this conversation is Jeff's relationship with hard things. He is not pretending the grind is glamorous. He says straight up that building physical products, selling through retail, and getting people to care is hard. But he also sees that difficulty as part of the opportunity. "You know I some of this stuff I think the harder it is, the better for me. For sure. You want, you want to bear. People are going to be like, oh, I don't have the guts to do this. That's right. Yeah. And then the ones that do, that's a that's another level, right? That's another fence they cleared. But then it's like, okay, well now you did that. But are you ready to grind now because it's a grind." That is the mindset that shows up again and again in the episode. The point is not that everything should be hard for the sake of being hard. The point is that difficulty can reveal where other people quit. That is true in sport. It is true in business. It is true in building a family, a product, a brand, a company, or a body of work. The Answer Is Yes Jeff's first major business story starts with Luggage Free. At the beginning, the company was taking orders by hand and trying to get the phone to ring. Then the first real call came in. "Anyway, so we're trying to get the phone to ring so we can handwrite our orders. And the first call, the guy, you know, we're all. It was kind of like a movie. We're all like, you know, hushed around him, waiting, you know, hearing him, he's like, oh, I'm sorry, we don't serve. North Carolina hangs up. And we were like, oh, dude, Gary, of course you serve anybody." That moment became a kind of operating philosophy: "And I was like, from now on, the answer is yes. Like whatever anybody says answered yes. And with that really that charge? Yeah. We were quickly in all 50 states and we grew to 109 countries throughout the world. And it was always in response to a call." There is something powerful in that. Not because saying yes is always the right answer, but because early in a business, the market often tells you where to go before your strategy deck does. Someone calls. Someone asks. Someone has a need. Someone gives you a clue. The question is whether you are willing to follow it. Building Something You Can Hold After selling Luggage Free in 2019, Jeff had time and space. He was not rushing into the next thing. He was riding his bike, playing tennis, spending time with his family, and looking for what might call him next. What called him was not another service business. It was a physical product. "And so in 19 sold it 2019, 2019 were operating all over the world, offices all over and sold it and was kind of free to at that point, I was like, all right, I want to like what I loved about it was the challenge and the fun and the competition. Right. You're building, you're competing." He continues: "But I what I yearn for was a product and something that was tangible I could actually hold right and do a different scent or a different flavor or different size or different color, whatever." That desire eventually became MTE. Jeff had been trying to solve his own energy problem, stacking supplements, chasing better mood, better energy, and better performance, until he realized the pieces were not working together. "And I realized I was like, Frankenstein. I mean, like, we were talking about it last night, like piling all these supplements together to try and make yourself feel better, even even like ten supplements, which doesn't sound that bad. Shit. Crazy. Yeah. We'll be like a suitcase full when you're traveling, you know?" MTE came from that search. "So we built it's an energy that loves you back. Right. Like an energy drink that loves you back. Yeah. Right. So you get prebiotics and caffeine free blend. That's better than caffeine. Yeah. So now you're getting energy that feels great that you can trust. Sure. And no jitters, no crash, no impact on sleep." Curiosity, Thrill, and Figuring It Out One of my favorite parts of this conversation is when Jeff talks about starting something in a category where he did not have obvious experience. He had not built beverage brands before. He was not a chemist. He was stepping into a new world. His answer was not fear. It was curiosity. "Yeah. Like, I like hair on fire. Like, let's go figure this out." Then he gets to the larger point: "I like it's curiosity and thrill. And that's what it boils down to. Right. Like, I think you you like that's what entrepreneurship is. It's solving problems and and finding solutions to things. Even if you've done it 20 times, they're going to be solutions that need to be had in the evolving world and landscape in which we operate." That is entrepreneurship in a sentence. You do not get to know everything before you begin. You do not get a guarantee that the answer is obvious. You get a problem, a question, a changing landscape, and the chance to learn fast enough to keep moving. Jeff says: "But that's why I love it. I think if, if we boil it down, I love the curiosity that that is necessary to just because you're like, I don't know the answer to that. Instead of that overwhelming me or said of panicking, I'm going to go learn because I'm sure there's more than one answer. We'll figure out. Maybe we'll triangulate, figure it out. Yeah, get to a solution. And and then we'll know for next time. And then we'll be able to iterate and make it better. And on it go. Like I love that process." You Have to Love the Process The conversation moves from business into fatherhood, sport, and the shape of a life. Again and again, we come back to process. Jeff says it directly: "Yeah. You have to love the process, right? And I think that's true of anything, particularly in stuff like that where it's easy to focus on the outcome. I'm lose 20 pounds, I'm going to whatever it is, I'm going to get this promotion, you know. And then I think what happens is then the outcome just naturally happens because you love the process." This applies to entrepreneurship, training, parent

    1h 22m
  2. Bet On Yourself

    Jun 17

    Bet On Yourself

    Hey friends, Chase here There is a particular kind of silence that can change the direction of a life. Not the peaceful kind. Not the silence you seek out when you need space to think. I mean the silence that lands in the room right after you say something true. The silence after you tell people what you really want. The silence after you say, out loud, that you are thinking about leaving the safe path and choosing the one that actually feels like yours. I remember that silence very clearly. I remember the day I told my family I was going to leave the path everyone expected for me and become a photographer. This was not me announcing a hobby. It was not a side project. It was not some casual thing I thought might be fun to explore. I was saying, in effect, this is what I feel compelled to do. This is the direction I have to chase. And the room got quiet. My parents were not against it, and I want to be clear about that. But I could feel the worry. I could feel the polite smiles and the nods that were probably covering up a very natural concern. I was worried too. I knew it was scary. I knew I might embarrass myself. I knew I might blow up my financial security, fail publicly, and end up crawling back to a "real job." That fear was real. But that moment stuck with me because it mattered. It still matters. Because so much of what keeps us from the life we want is not the actual failure. It is the fear of being seen before we know how the story ends. It is that quiet pause after we name the dream. That is what this episode is about. Betting on yourself, not because there is no fear, but because fear cannot be the thing that gets to design your life. The Moment After You Say the Thing There are obvious forms of resistance in life. Someone tells you no. A door closes. A plan falls apart. A check does not clear. Those things are hard, but at least they are clear. What I am talking about here is more subtle. It is the tiny moment after you reveal what you want and the people around you do not immediately understand. That moment can feel like a verdict, even when it is not. Somebody pauses, and suddenly you start filling in the blanks. Maybe they think I am crazy. Maybe they are disappointed. Maybe this dream is irresponsible. Maybe I should have kept it to myself. And before anything has actually happened, the fear begins doing its work. I have come to believe that this is one of the places where a lot of people stop. Not because someone actively shut them down, but because the silence felt too uncomfortable. If everyone cheered immediately, maybe they would keep going. If everyone criticized them loudly, maybe they would have something to push against. But the silence is different. It creates space for doubt, and doubt can be incredibly persuasive when the dream is still fragile. So if you are somewhere in your life right now wondering whether it is too late, whether you missed the window, whether you are allowed to want something different, I want you to pay attention to that. Especially if you cannot honestly say that you are 100% going after your dreams. This one is for you. Playing It Safe Is Usually Fear in Disguise Most of us do not say, "I am afraid, so I am not going to do the thing." We use better language than that. We say we are being practical. We say we are being responsible. We say we are waiting for the right time, the right plan, the right amount of money, the right amount of certainty. And sometimes those are legitimate considerations. I am not here to tell you to be reckless. But I am here to say that playing it safe is often fear wearing a very respectable outfit. Fear has a job. It is optimized for survival. That is useful when you are in actual danger. But fear is not optimized for creativity. It is not optimized for happiness, joy, connection, harmony, fulfillment, or the gifts you have to give and receive in this life. Fear wants to keep you alive. It does not care if you feel fully expressed. That matters because if you let fear make all your decisions, you may end up safe, but you will also end up smaller than you were meant to be. You will build a life around avoiding discomfort rather than moving toward aliveness. And the best stuff in life is usually just on the other side of the comfort zone you are coddling. By the way, craving comfort is natural. Of course it is. We all want security. We all want belonging. We all want the people we love to understand our choices. But comfort cannot be the only thing we optimize for. At some point, the question becomes: am I protecting my life, or am I hiding from it? The World Will Keep Throwing Curveballs If you are going for it, the world is going to throw you curveballs. That is part of the deal. Not because the world is against you, but because challenge is how you grow. The world cannot really give you anything. It can only challenge you until you become stronger. And when you get stronger, the hard things do not magically become easy. They become easier. That distinction matters. I am not promising a frictionless life. I am not saying the fear disappears or that the path suddenly becomes smooth. I am saying that you become more capable. You become more practiced. You learn how to meet the pitch that used to scare you. What I do not want is for you to quit. I do not want you to take your bat and go home. I do not want the first or fifth or fiftieth curveball to become the reason you stop playing the game you actually came here to play. Whether you meet those challenges as punishment or as part of a playful game of discovery is up to you. But either way, the challenges are coming. The invitation is to stay in the game long enough to find out who you become when you stop retreating every time it gets uncomfortable. Your Weaknesses Might Be Invitations There is something I wish more people said plainly: your weaknesses can be blessings. Not because weakness feels good. Not because fear is fun. Not because we need to romanticize struggle or pretend that everything difficult is automatically noble. But because the places where you feel weak are often the places where you are being invited to grow. That fear you feel right now does not necessarily mean you are doing the wrong thing. It may mean you are standing at the edge of something important. Courage is not the absence of fear. Courage is having fear and doing it anyway. This is easy to forget after years of teaching ourselves to avoid friction. Years of performing the version of ourselves that other people understand. Years of telling ourselves stories about what is realistic, acceptable, responsible, or too late. Over time, you can lose track of what you actually want. You can get so good at managing other people's expectations that you forget to ask whether the life you are maintaining is the life you want to be living. But the desire does not disappear just because you ignore it. It waits. It keeps tapping. It shows up in restlessness, envy, curiosity, frustration, and that persistent feeling that there is something more honest available to you. The Opposite of Playing It Safe Is Freedom The opposite of playing it safe is not reckless risk. That is not the message. This is not about blowing up your life just to prove you are brave. It is not about risk without measure. The opposite of playing it safe is freedom. Freedom is creating the ultimate game of life and then deciding that you are actually going to play. It is betting on yourself with your eyes open. It is taking calculated risks in the direction of what is true for you. It is refusing to let fear be the only voice in the room. That is why I keep showing up. Every week I write an email, create posts, record this show, and share work online because, in a very real way, I am betting on you. I am betting that you will see this work for what it is: a belief that you can activate. You can take calculated risks. You can get to work on your truest dreams. And more than anything, I want you to join me in that bet. What You'll Hear in This Episode This is a short episode, but the message is direct. If you have been waiting for permission, certainty, or universal understanding before you move toward the life you want, this is your reminder that fear does not get the final vote. Why the silence after you share your dream can feel so powerful, and why it keeps many people from taking action The story of telling my family I was leaving the expected path to pursue photography as a career Why playing it safe is often about fear, even when we call it responsibility Why fear is optimized for survival, not creativity, joy, connection, or fulfillment Why the comfort zone is natural to crave, but dangerous to build your whole life around How the world challenges you until you become stronger Why your weaknesses can become opportunities to grow and be brave Why courage means having fear and acting anyway Why the opposite of playing it safe is not recklessness, but freedom Why betting on yourself is a practice, not a one-time declaration Timecodes So You Can Jump to What You Need If you're not listening straight through, here are a few landmarks to help you find the part that speaks to where you are right now: 00:00 – A note about my weekly email and where I put my attention every week 01:50 – Welcome to the micro show and the short message behind today's episode 02:07 – The memory of telling my family I was leaving the expected path to become a photographer 02:44 – The quiet room, the polite smiles, and the worry underneath the silence 03:08 – The fear of public failure, financial insecurity, and having to crawl back to a "real job" 03:32 – Why the fear of saying what you want can keep you from taking action 04:11 – Why the silence after you announce your dream can be more powerful than encouragement or criticism 04:37 – The question: are you 100% going after your dreams? 05:04 – Playing it safe, fear, an

    10 min
  3. Eric Zimmer: How A Little Becomes A Lot

    Jun 10

    Eric Zimmer: How A Little Becomes A Lot

    Hey friends, Chase here Eric Zimmer is on the show today, and this conversation is exactly the kind of reminder we all need when we are trying to change something real. You probably know Eric from The One You Feed, his award-winning podcast about wisdom, behavior change, mental health, spirituality, and what it means to live well. But Eric's new book, How a Little Becomes a Lot: The Art of Small Changes for a More Meaningful Life, goes somewhere even more fundamental. It asks a question that feels especially urgent for creators, entrepreneurs, leaders, parents, and anyone trying to build a meaningful life in a world that constantly tells us to optimize everything: What if lasting change is not about becoming more disciplined, but about learning how to stop fighting yourself? That question matters because most of us have made change too heavy. We wrap it in shame, pressure, perfectionism, identity, ambition, self-criticism, and the fantasy of the big breakthrough. We get stuck waiting for the epiphany, the watershed moment, the dramatic turn where everything finally becomes clear. Eric's message is simpler, deeper, and more freeing: "There are moments that stand out because we pull them out and we pluck them out and we make them important, but they don't make sense without the moments before and after. There's all these little, deeply uninteresting moments where I made a small choice to move towards my recovery and away from my addiction again and again. And that's the way change really works." That idea is the center of this episode. We talk about Eric's journey from homelessness and heroin addiction to recovery, coaching, teaching, and writing; why your mind has a mind of its own; how to work with competing desires instead of pretending they are not there; and why small choices compound into a completely different life. This conversation is about loosening the grip. It is about getting back to the part of you that knows what matters, even when another part of you wants comfort, distraction, escape, or relief right now. Why This Conversation Matters Right Now We are living in a strange moment for anyone who wants to grow. On one hand, there has never been more access to tools, ideas, books, podcasts, teachers, frameworks, research, and practices that can help us change. That is extraordinary. But it also comes with a cost. The pressure to optimize every corner of our lives has never been stronger. Every scroll seems to bring another routine, another system, another habit, another rule, another version of the person we are supposed to become. We are constantly being asked to improve ourselves: What is your morning routine? What habit are you tracking? What are you optimizing? What are you building? What are you eliminating? What is the plan? Those questions can be useful at the right time. But when they show up too early, or too often, they can turn growth into another way of beating ourselves up. Eric's work reminds us that change begins with honesty. Before the perfect habit. Before the flawless system. Before the heroic reinvention. Before the new identity. Before the transformation story, there is a person being pulled in different directions. Wanting to change. Wanting to stay comfortable. Wanting what matters most. Wanting what feels good right now. Wanting freedom. Wanting safety. Wanting growth. Wanting acceptance. That does not mean something is wrong with you. It means you are human. And in that understanding, there is a kind of wisdom most self-improvement advice forgets. What We Explore in This Episode Eric's low point at 24 and how homelessness, heroin addiction, illness, and the threat of prison became the beginning of his recovery journey. Why the big turning point is not the whole story and why change actually happens in the small choices that come after. How to understand the "off-camera moments" of transformation that never make the montage but make all the difference. Why your mind has a mind of its own and what it means to be a motivationally complex person. How to work with what you want now and what you want most without shaming yourself for having competing desires. Why "playing the tape all the way through" can help you see past the first scene your mind wants to show you. How structure and story both shape change, and why systems alone are not always enough. How to hold change and acceptance at the same time when life refuses to fit into simple categories. Why trying smaller can create momentum when trying harder is not working. The Core Idea: Little by Little, a Little Becomes a Lot The fastest way to get unstuck is often to stop waiting for the big transformation and start paying attention to the next small choice. We get obsessed with the dramatic moment. The rock bottom. The epiphany. The vow. The clean break. The day everything changed. We want the music to swell. We want the story to make sense. Eric's story has one of those moments. At 24, he was homeless, addicted to heroin, physically depleted, and facing the possibility of decades in prison. Going into long-term treatment mattered. But Eric is careful not to confuse the turning point with the transformation. The transformation was not one decision. It was thousands. The decision to move toward recovery again. The decision to not use again. The decision to show up again. The decision to do the next small thing again. The decision to choose what mattered most over what felt urgent right now. The on-camera moment gets the attention. The off-camera moments create the life. Eric's point is not that ambition does not matter. It is not that insight does not matter. It is not that we should abandon goals, systems, or discipline. It is that the living center of change is choice. The small one comes first. Your Mind Has a Mind of Its Own One of the big tensions in this conversation is the voice many of us carry around that says, "If I really wanted to change, this would be easier." That voice says: You should have more discipline. You should be more consistent. You should know better by now. You should not still struggle with this. You should be able to just decide. Eric's response is that we are not simple creatures. We are motivationally complex. We do not want one thing. We want lots of things. We want what we value most, and we want what feels good right now. We want to grow, and we want to be comfortable. We want to change, and we want to be accepted exactly as we are. That is why the phrase "your mind has a mind of its own" is so useful. It gives language to something we all experience. You decide you are going to do one thing, and then you watch yourself do another. You know what would help, and still you avoid it. You care deeply about the future, and still the present moment feels more real. The work is not to shame that complexity out of yourself. The work is to understand it. Play the Tape All the Way Through One of my favorite parts of this conversation is Eric's explanation of a recovery practice called "playing the tape all the way through." When we want something in the moment, our mind often shows us only the first scene. The first scene is relief. The first scene is escape. The first scene is pleasure, comfort, avoidance, or release. In Eric's addiction, that first scene was all the reasons getting high would feel amazing. But recovery taught him not to stop there. He had to keep the tape running. Then what? The shame comes back. The fear comes back. The despair comes back. The consequences come back. The craving comes back, often stronger than before. This is such a powerful tool because it makes the future less abstract. Before you avoid the work, play the tape through. Before you send the angry email, play the tape through. Before you break the promise to yourself, play the tape through. Not to punish yourself. To see clearly. Structure Matters, But It Is Not the Whole Story Eric makes an important distinction in this episode between the external architecture of change and the internal moments of choice. A lot of personal growth advice focuses on structure. Set the goal. Build the system. Make the habit obvious. Make the habit easy. Design the environment. Remove friction. Put the right reminders in place. That matters. But structure is not the whole story. Because even when you know exactly what to do, and even when you have made it as easy as possible, the moment still comes. You and the choice. Do you write? Do you walk? Do you call? Do you tell the truth? Do you choose what you want most over what you want now? When we do not make the choice we wanted to make, Eric says there is usually something happening inside us. A feeling. A thought pattern. A story. A fear. A form of self-doubt we have not learned how to work with yet. That is why real change needs both. The structure and the story. Try It Smaller Eric says something in this episode that every ambitious person should sit with: Try it smaller. That does not mean the goal does not matter. It means the path has to be walkable. When a change plan is not working, many of us assume we need more discipline. More pressure. More intensity. More accountability. But often, the better move is to make the action smaller. If you cannot write for two hours, write for ten minutes. If you cannot meditate for 30 minutes, sit for three breaths. If you cannot change your whole health routine, put on your shoes and walk around the block. If you cannot face the entire project, open the document. Small does not mean meaningless. Small means repeatable. And repeatable is where momentum comes from. Change and Acceptance Are Not Opposites Another major theme in this episode is the tension between growth and acceptance. One of the best parts of us wants to change. We want to grow, improve, heal, create, recover, repair, and build better lives. And yet, so many wisdom traditions point us to

    48 min
  4. Austin Kleon: Don't Call It Art

    Jun 3

    Austin Kleon: Don't Call It Art

    Hey friends, Chase here Austin Kleon is back on the show, and this conversation is exactly the kind of reminder every creative person needs. You probably know Austin from Steal Like an Artist, Show Your Work!, and Keep Going, the books that have helped millions of people rethink creativity, sharing, influence, originality, and what it actually means to make things in public. But Austin's new book, Don't Call It Art: 10 Ways to Create Like a Kid Again, goes somewhere even more fundamental. It asks a question that feels especially urgent for creators, entrepreneurs, artists, writers, photographers, parents, and anyone trying to make meaningful work in a world that wants to turn everything into content: What if the way back to your best creative work is not becoming more serious, but becoming more playful? That question matters because most of us have made creativity too heavy. We have wrapped it in identity, pressure, productivity, platforms, metrics, perfectionism, and the fear of being judged. We get stuck asking whether we are real artists, serious writers, successful creators, or legitimate professionals. We worry about the noun before we do the verb. Austin's message is simpler, deeper, and more freeing: "Don't call it art. Don't worry about being an artist. Forget the nouns. Do the verbs. Just make stuff." That idea is the center of this episode. We talk about what kids can teach us about creativity, why play is not frivolous, how to build the conditions for your best work, why attention is your most valuable resource, and why some of the most important ideas in your life might come from goofing off. This conversation is about loosening the grip. It is about getting back to the part of you that makes before it judges, explores before it explains, and follows the energy before it knows exactly where the work is going. Why This Conversation Matters Right Now We are living in a strange moment for creative people. On one hand, there has never been more opportunity. An individual with a laptop, a camera, a newsletter, a sketchbook, a phone, a point of view, or a weird little idea can reach people directly. That is extraordinary. But it also comes with a cost. The pressure to turn every interest into a brand, every hobby into content, every project into a product, and every creative impulse into a strategy has never been stronger. We are constantly being asked to define ourselves: What do you do? What is your niche? What is your platform? What are you building? How are you monetizing it? What is the plan? Those questions can be useful at the right time. But when they show up too early, they can suffocate the very thing they are trying to organize. Austin's work reminds us that creativity begins before identity. Before "artist." Before "writer." Before "photographer." Before "entrepreneur." Before "content creator." Before the nouns, there are verbs. Drawing. Writing. Walking. Noticing. Building. Playing. Collecting. Tinkering. Making. Sharing. Kids understand this instinctively. They do not sit down and ask whether what they are making fits the market. They do not wonder whether they are allowed to call themselves artists. They do not freeze because the thing in front of them might not be good enough. They simply begin. And in that beginning, there is a kind of wisdom most adults have forgotten. What We Explore in This Episode Why kids can be some of the best creativity teachers because they make before they judge, label, or perform. How to reconnect with the feeling you wanted as a kid, not necessarily the exact childhood you had. Why play is not the opposite of serious work, but a form of creative research and development. How to create the conditions for creativity through time, space, materials, and permission. Why tools should feel more like toys if you want to stay curious and experimental. How phones fracture attention and why protecting the edges of your day can change the texture of your life. Why hobbies matter and how bikes, music, golf, drawing, and other forms of play can return us to ourselves. Why "don't call it art" can be liberating for anyone who feels trapped by labels or legitimacy. How to use jealousy, disgust, and frustration as creative information instead of letting them turn into bitterness. Why people pay attention when someone truly believes in what they are doing. The Core Idea: Forget the Nouns. Do the Verbs. The fastest way to get unstuck is often to stop asking what you are and start paying attention to what you do. That sounds simple, but it is one of the biggest traps in creative work. We get obsessed with identity. Am I an artist? Am I a real writer? Am I a serious photographer? Am I a professional? Am I successful enough to call myself this thing? Am I allowed? That kind of thinking can freeze you before you even start. Kids do not have that problem. They are not trying to become "artists." They are drawing. They are building. They are making noise. They are inventing stories. They are throwing materials around and seeing what happens. Austin's point is not that craft does not matter. It is not that ambition does not matter. It is not that we should abandon discipline. It is that the living center of creativity is action. The verb comes first. Make the thing. Move the pencil. Open the notebook. Pick up the guitar. Ride the bike. Take the walk. Make the zine. Shoot the photo. Write the sentence. Start the weird little project that begins with, "Wouldn't it be funny if…" That is where the energy is. Play Is Creative R&D One of the big tensions in this conversation is the voice many of us carry around that says play is not practical. That voice says: You have responsibilities. You need to make money. You need to be serious. You need to have a plan. You need to stop messing around. Austin's response is that play is not the opposite of serious work. Play is often what makes serious work possible. He talks about play as research and development. Any healthy company needs R&D. It needs space to explore, test, wander, fail, and discover things that cannot be found through pure efficiency. The same is true for a creative life. A lot of us start in explore mode. We are curious. We are trying things. We are learning. We are following our taste. We are discovering our voice. Then, if something works, we shift into exploit mode. We repeat the thing. We build a career around it. We systematize it. We professionalize it. We optimize it. That can be useful. But if you stay there forever, you eventually run out of juice. You need space to explore again. That is what play gives you. It returns you to the part of the process where you are not just producing, but discovering. And in creative work, discovery is everything. Create the Conditions, Then Get Out of the Way One of my favorite parts of this conversation is Austin's simple equation: Play = time + space + materials. That may sound almost too simple, but it is profound. When I look back at the most creative seasons of my life, the pattern is obvious. I had uninterrupted time. I had a place to go. I had the right materials around me. I had enough structure to begin and enough freedom to be surprised. That is what we often give kids when we want them to create. We give them a table, some paper, some markers, a chunk of time, and permission to make a mess. Then we grow up and deny ourselves the same basic conditions. We say we are blocked, stuck, confused, or uninspired, but often we have not created an environment where anything could actually emerge. No time. No space. No materials. No quiet. No room to tinker. The lesson is not complicated, but it is easy to forget: Set the conditions. Allow the work to happen. Get out of the way. That is not laziness. That is not indulgence. That is how the good stuff gets a chance to show up. The Best Ideas Often Come From Goofing Off I have said this before, and I mean it: so many of the best ideas in my life have come from goofing off. Not from trying to optimize. Not from grinding. Not from forcing. Not from staring at a blank screen and demanding genius. They came when I was tinkering. Playing. Walking. Talking with friends. Making something that had no obvious point. Trying something because it felt fun, strange, or impossible to explain. Austin and I talk about this because it is one of the hardest things for ambitious people to accept. We want the path to be linear. We want effort to equal outcome. We want the best ideas to come from the most serious hours. But creativity often does not work that way. The mind needs room. The body needs movement. The soul needs a little nonsense. Goofing off is not always avoidance. Sometimes it is how the deeper intelligence gets a chance to speak. Tools Should Be Toys Austin says something in this episode that every creator should sit with: Tools should be toys. That does not mean your tools are unimportant. It means the best tools invite you into a state of play. They make you want to touch them, try them, misuse them, combine them, push them, and see what happens. A sketchbook can be a toy. A camera can be a toy. A guitar pedal can be a toy. A bicycle can be a toy. A cheap notebook, a box of crayons, a microphone, a drum machine, a kitchen table, a phone in airplane mode, a pile of index cards — all of it can become part of the creative playground. The danger is when tools become only professional instruments. When every object in your creative life carries the pressure of output, performance, monetization, or proof, it becomes harder to begin. A toy invites curiosity. And curiosity is one of the most reliable doors back into making. Attention Is the Beginning of Everything Another major theme in this episode is attention. Austin shares a simple practice: start and end the day without your phone. Not as a moral performance. Not as some extreme digital detox. Just as a way to prot

    1h 12m
  5. Eric Ries: How to Build Something Success Can't Corrupt

    May 27

    Eric Ries: How to Build Something Success Can't Corrupt

    Hey friends, Chase here Eric Ries is back on the show, and this conversation goes far beyond startups, venture capital, or the mechanics of building a company. You probably know Eric as the author of The Lean Startup, the book that changed how founders, creators, entrepreneurs, and teams think about building something new. His work helped popularize ideas like continuous innovation, validated learning, experimentation, and staying close to the customer instead of getting lost in theory, ego, or endless planning. But this episode is not just about how to start something. It's about how to protect the thing you've built once it starts working. Eric's new book, Incorruptible: Why Good Companies Go Bad…and How Great Companies Stay Great, asks a question that feels especially urgent for creators, entrepreneurs, founders, and leaders right now: How do you build something that can grow without being captured, corrupted, or hollowed out? That question matters whether you're running a company, building a personal brand, growing a creative practice, launching a product, choosing clients, working with sponsors, or trying to do work that actually reflects your values. Because success is not neutral. Success brings attention, opportunity, money, investors, partners, platforms, algorithms, expectations, incentives, shortcuts, and people who may not share the reason you started in the first place. One of Eric's most powerful lines in this conversation is this: "Success is not a source of strength. It is a liability, because success attracts predators." That idea is the center of this episode. If you've ever built something that started to work, you know exactly what he means. The thing that made your work powerful can become the thing other people want to capture. The trust you built can become something others want to monetize. The values that made your community believe in you can suddenly feel inconvenient when there's more money on the table. This conversation is about how to stay awake in the middle of that pressure. We talk about defining what you stand for, making decisions before the pressure arrives, treating trust as an asset, saying no to misaligned opportunities, and building something that can grow without losing its soul. Why This Conversation Matters Right Now We are living in a strange moment for creators and entrepreneurs. On one hand, there has never been more opportunity. An individual with a laptop, a camera, a newsletter, a product, an idea, or a point of view can reach people directly. You can build an audience, launch a business, compete with massive companies, and create a brand around your name, your work, your taste, your values, and your trust. That is extraordinary, but it also comes with a real cost. The forces shaping our work have never been more intense. Platforms reward outrage. Algorithms reward simplification. Investors reward speed. Markets reward extraction. The pressure to be louder, faster, more polarizing, more optimized, and more "growth-minded" is everywhere. Eric describes this pressure as a kind of gravity. It is the gravity of platforms, incentives, success, and other people's definitions of winning. If we are not conscious of those forces, they shape us without our permission. That is one of the biggest themes in this episode: you are always being shaped by the systems you participate in. The question is whether you are awake enough to notice, honest enough to name it, and disciplined enough to choose a different path when the incentives start pulling you away from who you actually want to be. What We Explore in This Episode Why success can become a liability when it attracts people, money, platforms, and incentives that want to capture what you've built. How creators get shaped by platforms and why the algorithm can quietly tune your voice, values, and identity toward whatever gets the most engagement. Why trust may be the most valuable asset in business and why it is so easy to destroy with one short-term decision. How to define an ethos before outside pressure, money, growth, or status starts making decisions for you. Why "harder is easier" when your principles are clear enough to remove debate from the moments that matter. How companies, creators, and brands slowly trade away their soul through small compromises that seem harmless in the moment. Why alignment matters more than scale when choosing clients, customers, sponsors, platforms, partners, and investors. How to build something durable without losing the trust, purpose, and values that made it worth building in the first place. The Core Idea: Growth Without Betrayal The real test of success is whether you can grow without betraying what made you worth trusting. It is easy to talk about values when nothing is on the line. It is easy to say you care about quality, access, creativity, service, truth, community, or long-term thinking when the stakes are low. But values only become real when they cost you something. That might happen when there is a big check on the table from a misaligned sponsor. It might happen when an investor wants a different path than the one you set out to build. It might happen when the algorithm rewards a version of you that is more inflammatory, less nuanced, and less honest. It might happen when you can quietly take the shortcut, ship something you don't believe in, or make a decision that no one will notice in the short term. Those are the moments that reveal the truth. Not the words on the wall, not the mission statement, not the brand deck, and not the beautifully written values page. The decision is the proof. Eric's argument is that if you want to build something incorruptible, you have to know what you stand for before those moments arrive. Once the pressure is here, it becomes much harder to think clearly. Success Attracts Predators One of the most powerful parts of this conversation is Eric's warning about success. Most of us are trained to think of success as pure upside: more customers, more revenue, more attention, more leverage, more opportunity, and more proof that the thing is working. Eric flips that idea on its head. Success is not only a source of strength. It is also a liability, because the more valuable your work becomes, the more attractive it becomes to people and systems that want to use it for their own ends. That can look like: Investors who want growth at any cost. Platforms that reward you for becoming a more extreme version of yourself. Partners who want access to your audience but do not share your values. A company acquiring a beloved brand and slowly stripping away what people trusted about it. Your own internal pressure to keep the numbers moving up and to the right, even when the work starts to feel misaligned. This is where corruption often begins. Not with one giant evil decision, but with tiny tradeoffs. A small compromise here, a slightly misaligned deal there, a decision that seems harmless because "no one will notice," or a shortcut taken because the quarter is tight. Over time, the thing that made you trusted starts to erode. The work still looks successful from the outside, but inside the machine, something essential has been traded away. The Gravity of Platforms Eric and I also talk about the pressure creators face from platforms. This part is especially relevant if you make anything for the internet. The promise of platforms is access. You can reach people, publish instantly, build a community, and grow a business without asking for permission from traditional gatekeepers. That is powerful, and I don't want to minimize how much opportunity that has created. But platforms also have values. Not values in the human sense, but values in the incentive sense. They reward certain behaviors and punish others. They reward what keeps people clicking, watching, reacting, arguing, and coming back. Over time, creators start to adapt. You post something thoughtful and nuanced, and almost nobody sees it. You post something sharper, more polarizing, more emotionally charged, and suddenly the platform lights up. That teaches you something, whether you want it to or not. The danger is that you start to confuse what the algorithm rewards with what people actually need. You begin making tiny adjustments: a stronger hook, a more controversial angle, less complexity, more certainty, more outrage, less truth. Eventually, you may not even notice that your voice has changed. That is the gravity Eric is talking about. It is not a force that announces itself. It is a force that quietly pulls until one day you realize you have been shaped by something you never consciously chose. Trust Is a Bank Account One of my favorite ideas from Eric's book is what he calls the culture bank. The idea is simple: trust is an asset. Every time you make a sacrifice for the sake of a principle, you make a deposit. Every time you betray a principle for short-term gain, you make a withdrawal. Eric's rule is almost painfully simple: Only make deposits. Never make withdrawals. Of course, we are human. We make mistakes. Sometimes we think we are doing the right thing and we get it wrong. Sometimes something breaks, a customer gets disappointed, or a decision does not land the way we intended. That is not the point. The point is not perfection. The point is to avoid intentional withdrawals. Don't knowingly trade trust for a quick hit. Don't knowingly betray the values that made people believe in you. Don't knowingly cash out your reputation for something that will not matter a year from now. Because trust takes a long time to build and almost no time to destroy. When you are a creator, founder, or entrepreneur, trust is not a soft idea. It is the business, the brand, the relationship, and the reason people come back. Harder Is Easier Another principle Eric shares is this: harder is easier. At first, that sounds backwards, but the more you sit with it, t

    53 min
  6. Play It As It Lies

    May 20

    Play It As It Lies

    Hey friends, Chase here Let's talk about golf. And before you check out because you're not a golfer, hang with me for a minute — because this episode isn't really about golf. It's about life. It's about what happens when things don't go according to plan. When the ball lands somewhere ugly. When you're stuck behind a tree, buried in the sand, sitting in a divot, or staring down a shot you didn't want and didn't ask for. In golf, there's a phrase: play it as it lies. You don't get to move the ball just because the situation is inconvenient. You don't get to pretend the shot is easier than it is. You don't get to rewrite reality so it matches the version you had in your head. You look at what's in front of you. You accept the lie. And then you play the next shot. That idea has become one of the most useful metaphors in my life. Because life, like golf, rarely unfolds exactly the way we imagined. Even our best-laid plans run into rough patches. The course changes. The weather shifts. The terrain surprises us. Sometimes the thing we thought would be straightforward turns into the hardest shot of the day. And the question becomes: Can you stop fighting reality long enough to respond to it? That's what this episode is about. Not golf tips. Not swing mechanics. Not how to lower your handicap. It's about resilience. Presence. Ego. Preparation. Adaptability. Learning from mistakes. And remembering that the little things — the short putts, the quiet choices, the small daily actions — often matter just as much as the big dramatic swings. Here's the thing golf teaches you fast: You can do almost everything "right" and still end up in a bad spot. You can prepare. Practice. Visualize. Get coaching. Set goals. Build routines. Show up with the best intentions. And still, eventually, you're going to hit one sideways. That's not failure. That's the game. And more importantly, that's life. The people who keep growing aren't the ones who never hit bad shots. They're the ones who learn how to recover. They're the ones who don't let one ugly moment become the story of the whole round. They're the ones who can take a breath, look at what's real, and ask: What's the best next move from here? The Core Idea You don't get to choose every lie. But you do get to choose how you play it. That's the heart of this episode. In golf, the course is full of imperfections. A root here. A bunker there. A weird patch of grass. A branch that grew out at exactly the wrong angle. A divot you didn't create but now have to deal with. You don't get to pretend those things aren't there. You have to confront the reality of the shot. Life works the same way. Sometimes you get the clean fairway lie. Sometimes you're in the rough. Sometimes you're blocked. Sometimes the conditions change overnight. Sometimes you did everything you could and still landed somewhere difficult. The mistake most of us make is wasting energy wishing the lie were different. But the power move is acceptance. Not passive acceptance. Not resignation. Not pretending you like the situation. Acceptance as in: This is what's true. Now what? That mindset builds resilience because it pulls you out of fantasy and back into agency. It reminds you that while you may not control the terrain, you still control your next swing. What You'll Hear in This Episode This episode is built around a set of lessons golf has taught me — lessons that reach far beyond the course. Why "play it as it lies" is one of the best life philosophies for dealing with reality, setbacks, and uncertainty How to stay present after a bad shot instead of letting one mistake define everything that follows Why your best shot might come right after your worst one — and what Tiger Woods can teach us about staying neutral The hidden value of playing with someone new and staying open to unfamiliar people, personalities, and situations How ego quietly ruins the game — in golf, creativity, business, relationships, and life Why mistakes are feedback when you're willing to study them without shame What it means to play against the course instead of obsessing over comparison Why preparation matters even when you can't control the outcome How the little things add up — the one-inch putts, the daily habits, the small choices that shape the final score Play It Like It Is The first lesson is simple: play it like it is. In golf, the traditional phrase is "play it as it lies." Wherever the ball lands, that's where you play from. You don't get to deny the circumstances. You don't get to pretend you have a perfect lie when you don't. You don't get to spend the whole round frustrated because the course has imperfections. You adapt. That's such a powerful life lesson because so much of our suffering comes from arguing with what's already true. We think, This shouldn't be happening. Maybe it shouldn't. But it is. And the faster we can stop resisting reality, the faster we can begin responding to it. This doesn't mean you don't have emotions. It doesn't mean you don't get frustrated. It doesn't mean you don't acknowledge that something is hard or unfair or disappointing. It means you don't stay stuck there. You look at the lie. You study the conditions. You adjust. You play the next shot. That's resilience. That's adaptability. That's life. Your Best Shot Can Follow Your Worst One One of the most iconic moments in golf came from Tiger Woods at the Masters. The shot itself was extraordinary — the ball rolling slowly, almost impossibly, toward the hole, pausing for a split second, then taking one final turn and dropping in. But what makes that moment even more powerful is what came before it. That incredible shot followed one of his most disappointing shots of the tournament. That's the lesson. Your best shot can come right after your worst one. But only if you stay present enough to take it. Most of us do the opposite. We make one mistake and immediately leave the moment. We replay what went wrong. We narrate the failure. We spiral. We decide the round is ruined, the project is doomed, the day is shot, the dream is over. But the next shot doesn't care about the last one. It only asks whether you're here. That's the discipline: staying neutral. Staying composed. Staying available to the possibility that something beautiful can happen next. Not because you're pretending the bad shot didn't happen. Because you're refusing to let it own the rest of the round. Play With Somebody New Golf has this funny thing built into it: sometimes you show up and get paired with people you don't know. That can feel awkward. It can feel inconvenient. It can feel like a curveball. But if you stay open, it can also be a gift. You might play with someone who's been at it for nine months or nineteen years. You might learn something from a beginner. You might learn something from a veteran. You might meet someone you never would have crossed paths with otherwise. You also might get paired with someone who doesn't exactly light you up. And that's part of the lesson too. The point isn't that every stranger becomes a lifelong friend. The point is that there's value in staying open. There's value in learning how to share the course. There's value in practicing patience, kindness, curiosity, and connection over a few hours. Life works this way all the time. We get paired with coworkers, collaborators, clients, neighbors, strangers, and people whose rhythms are different from ours. Sometimes it's magic. Sometimes it's friction. But either way, there's something to learn if we're not closed off before the first shot. Disconnect From the Ego Golf will expose your ego fast. It's hard to hit a tiny white ball with a club toward a hole hundreds of yards away. It's hard to do it consistently. It's hard to make the body, mind, mechanics, course, weather, and emotions all cooperate at the same time. And because it's hard, the ego wants to jump in. It wants to explain every bad shot. It wants to justify every mistake. It wants to narrate every swing so nobody thinks less of you. I used to do this all the time. Good shot, bad shot — I had a comment. An explanation. A little story about what happened or why it happened. Eventually, I realized: it doesn't matter. That was all ego. The shot is the shot. The score is the score. The work is the work. When you can detach from constantly judging yourself — good or bad — you free up so much energy. You can laugh. Learn. Keep going. Try again. You can be in the experience instead of performing an identity around the experience. That's true in golf. It's true in creativity. It's true in leadership. It's true in life. The ego wants protection. The game requires presence. Learn From the Mistakes Golf is endlessly humbling because no two rounds are exactly alike. The course changes. The grass changes. The greens change. The wind changes. The pin placement changes. The conditions you played yesterday may not be the conditions you face today. That means mistakes are inevitable. But mistakes are also information. When a shot doesn't go as planned, you have a chance to study what happened. Was it your setup? Your focus? The wind? The club selection? The lie? The speed of the green? Your emotional state? The point isn't to shame yourself. The point is to learn. This is one of the biggest differences between people who keep improving and people who stay stuck. Stuck people turn mistakes into identity. Growing people turn mistakes into feedback. Nobody plays a flawless round. Nobody lives a flawless life. The goal isn't to avoid every mistake. The goal is to build the capacity for error recovery. To adapt. Improve. Persist. Keep moving. That's where growth happens. You're Playing Against the Course Yes, golf can be competitive. You can play against other people. You can compare scores. You can enter tournaments. You can measure yoursel

    22 min
  7. You Don't Need More Hustle. You Need More Capacity.

    May 13

    You Don't Need More Hustle. You Need More Capacity.

    Hey friends, Chase here Let's talk about hustle. Not the old-school definition of hustle — as in working hard, caring deeply, staying committed, and doing the reps. That kind of effort still matters. It always will. I'm talking about what hustle has become. The kind of hustle that glorifies exhaustion. The kind that mistakes motion for progress. The kind that tells you if you're not burning the candle at both ends, you're not serious enough about your dreams. And I want to say this clearly: You don't need more hustle. You need more capacity. Because without focus, vision, rest, and self-awareness, working harder doesn't necessarily move you closer to the life you want. It can just leave you burnt out, disconnected, and unable to do the work that actually matters. For years, I bought into the myth. I slept five or six hours a night. I worked ridiculous days — sometimes up to 20 hours. I thought that was what commitment looked like. I thought grinding myself down was the price of building something meaningful. And then I hit a point where my body and mind gave me a wake-up call. On a vacation in Hawaii, with nothing on my schedule for the first time in what felt like forever, I slept 14 hours a night for nearly a week. Not because I was lazy. Not because I lacked ambition. Because I was empty. And once I finally rested, everything changed. I was nicer. More creative. More self-aware. More connected to what I actually wanted and needed. I felt more alive. That experience changed the way I think about work, creativity, ambition, success, and fulfillment. This episode is about that shift. It's about why rest is not the enemy of ambition. It's about why capacity beats constant motion. It's about why the most fulfilled people I know aren't the ones who grind themselves into dust — they're the ones who learn how to stay in the game. Here's the thing most high performers eventually learn: You can't build a meaningful life on depletion. You might be able to push through for a season. You might be able to sprint through a launch, a deadline, a hard chapter, a creative breakthrough. There are absolutely moments when the work requires intensity. But intensity is not the same as sustainability. And if your only strategy is to keep pushing harder, eventually the cost shows up. In your body. In your relationships. In your creativity. In your sense of meaning. In your ability to actually enjoy the thing you've worked so hard to build. That's why the question isn't, "How do I hustle more?" The better question is: How do I build the capacity to do great work for a long time? Capacity includes energy. It includes sleep. It includes focus. It includes emotional bandwidth. It includes self-awareness. It includes the ability to know when to push, when to pause, when to recover, and when to come back stronger. This is not about doing less with your life. It's about doing the right things with more presence, more power, and more longevity. The Core Idea Rest is not a reward for finishing the work. Rest is part of how the work gets done. That idea can feel uncomfortable if you were raised on a steady diet of "work harder," "sleep when you're dead," and "no days off." But here's what I've seen again and again — in my own life, in the lives of people I've worked with, hired, interviewed, coached, and admired: The most fulfilled people are not striving toward some impossible standard for the sake of the standard. They work hard. But they also recover hard. They have intention around their effort. They know what matters. They know when their body needs sleep, when their mind needs space, and when their spirit needs something other than another task on the list. They understand that life is long. And if life is long, then the goal is not to flame out in one heroic burst of productivity. The goal is to stay in the game. You have to learn to rest rather than quit. That's the real shift. Because quitting often comes after we ignore the signals for too long. We push through fatigue. We override our own needs. We treat burnout like proof that we care. Then one day, we're not just tired — we're resentful, creatively numb, and disconnected from the very thing we once loved. Rest interrupts that cycle. Sleep interrupts that cycle. Self-awareness interrupts that cycle. And when you build those things into your life before everything breaks, you create a different kind of ambition. One that is not weaker. One that is not softer. One that is actually more powerful because it can last. What You'll Hear in This Episode This is a short micro show, but it cuts right into a pattern so many creative people, entrepreneurs, and high achievers struggle with. Here are the ideas worth listening for: Why hustle has become confused with progress — and why movement without focus can leave you burned out instead of fulfilled The wake-up call that changed my relationship with sleep after years of working extreme hours and running on too little rest Why recovery can catapult your creativity instead of slowing you down The difference between dumb hustle and smart hustle — and why working hard still matters when it's done with awareness Why "life is long" changes everything about how we pursue success, creativity, and fulfillment How to replace balance with harmony by learning to move with the seasons of your life Why short-term urgency and long-term patience might be the new pattern for sustainable success Timecodes (So You Can Jump to What You Need) If you're not listening straight through, here are a few landmarks to help you find the part that speaks to where you are right now: 01:50 – Why the old idea of hustle needs an update 02:35 – The wake-up call: working 20-hour days and finally crashing into real rest 03:31 – What changed after sleeping 14 hours a night for nearly a week 04:46 – How sleep became a catapult for creativity, awareness, and aliveness 05:12 – The secret hack to a long, productive, creative life 06:28 – Learning to rest rather than quit 08:16 – Why life is long, and why chasing one flash of success is the wrong game 08:45 – Working smarter, not just harder 09:35 – The difference between dumb hustle and smart hustle 10:26 – "Sometimes you're not blocked. You're just empty." 11:31 – Why harmony beats balance 12:37 – Short-term urgency, long-term patience Read This If You're Burned Out If you're tired right now, I want you to consider something: Maybe you don't need more discipline. Maybe you need more restoration. That doesn't mean discipline is irrelevant. It doesn't mean hard work doesn't matter. It doesn't mean you should abandon your standards or stop caring about the quality of what you create. It means your system might be running at a deficit. And when you're running at a deficit, everything gets distorted. Your work feels heavier than it is. Your relationships feel more difficult. Your creativity feels harder to access. Your patience shrinks. Your sense of possibility gets smaller. You start making decisions from survival mode instead of vision. That's not a character flaw. That's biology. That's capacity. And capacity can be rebuilt. Sometimes the most strategic thing you can do is sleep. Take a walk. Eat real food. Put the phone down. Get outside. Stop trying to squeeze one more thing out of a system that is asking to recover. Again, this is not an argument against ambition. This is an argument for ambition that doesn't destroy the person carrying it. The Trap of Success at All Costs There's an old model of success that says you have one shot. One opportunity. One window. One big break. One viral moment. One chance to prove yourself. And when you believe that, panic becomes the operating system. You chase. You grip. You overwork. You try to force every project to become the thing that saves you. You look at every opportunity through the lens of scarcity. But that world is fading. The one-hit wonder model is not the goal. The flash-in-the-pan version of success is not the goal. Achieving something at all costs and then clinging to it with your fingernails is not the goal. The new pattern is different. It's about building many things that matter over time. It's about pursuing curiosity. It's about understanding the seasons of your life. It's about knowing when to go hard and when to recover. It's about becoming wiser about your own needs and wants. The goal is not to burn bright once. The goal is to keep becoming. Questions to Ask Yourself If you want to turn this episode into action, take five minutes and sit with these: Where am I mistaking motion for progress? What am I calling "hustle" that might actually be avoidance, fear, or lack of focus? Am I giving my body, mind, and spirit what they need to stay in the game? Where am I depleted and pretending I'm just undisciplined? What would smart hustle look like in this season of my life? What is one thing I could stop doing that would immediately create more capacity? What is one recovery habit I could treat as seriously as my work? Am I chasing short-term validation at the expense of long-term fulfillment? A Simple Practice for Building Capacity Here's something you can do immediately — especially if you've been grinding, overworking, or feeling like you're always behind. For the next seven days, don't start by asking, "How can I do more?" Start by asking: "What would give me more capacity today?" Then choose one small action. Go to bed 30 minutes earlier. Not perfectly. Just earlier than usual. Take a walk without your phone. Let your mind breathe. Do one focused block of work instead of bouncing between ten tasks. Eat something that actually supports your energy. Cancel or postpone one nonessential commitment that is draining you. Spend ten minutes reflecting on what you need instead of what everyone else expects. The point isn't to overhaul your entire life overn

    15 min
  8. How to Find Your Creative Voice

    May 6

    How to Find Your Creative Voice

    Hey friends, Chase here Let's talk about one of the most important questions every creator eventually asks: How do I find my creative voice? Or maybe you've heard it framed another way: How do I develop a personal style? How do I make work that actually feels like mine? How do I stop copying what everyone else is doing and start creating from a place that is uniquely my own? This question comes up all the time because it sits at the center of the creative life. Whether you're a photographer, designer, writer, filmmaker, musician, entrepreneur, or someone who simply feels called to make things, there comes a point where technical ability is not enough. You can know how to use the tools. You can understand the software. You can study the masters. You can follow the trends. You can learn the settings, the systems, the formulas, the workflows. But eventually, you hit a deeper question: What makes this mine? That is what this episode is about. And I want to be clear from the start: finding your creative voice is not about inventing some perfect brand identity overnight. It's not about locking yourself into one narrow lane forever. It's not about deciding, intellectually, "This is my style now," and then forcing every piece of work to fit inside that box. Your creative voice is much more organic than that. It is your fingerprint. Your point of view. Your taste. Your history. Your instincts. Your lived experience. Your way of seeing the world, translated through the things you make. And the only way to find it is to make. Not once. Not occasionally. Not only when you feel inspired. Again and again and again. The Big Question: What Is Personal Style? Personal style can sound like one of those vague creative phrases that floats around in the universe without ever becoming useful. People say things like, "You need to find your style," or "You need to develop your voice," but what does that actually mean? At its simplest, personal style is the thing that makes your work recognizable. It's the equivalent of your handwriting. You don't have to think about your handwriting every time you write your name. It's not something you consciously construct letter by letter. It just comes out of you because it has been shaped by repetition, history, muscle memory, and identity. Your creative style works the same way. It is the unique aesthetic fingerprint that you unconsciously put on everything you make. Think about music. You can hear a Prince song for just a few measures and know it's Prince before his voice even enters. There's a signature there. A rhythm. A tone. A sensibility. A way the work announces itself. Think about photography. You can look at an Ansel Adams landscape and recognize the scale, the drama, the tonality, the reverence for nature. It has a point of view. That's personal style. It's not just what you make. It's how you see. It's what you notice. It's what you repeat without realizing you're repeating it. It's the pattern behind the work. And that matters because without some kind of recognizable point of view, you're just bouncing around. You might be technically capable. You might be able to make a good photograph, a good song, a good design, a good film, a good essay. But if there's nothing distinctive about the way you make it, people have a harder time connecting that work back to you. Personal style is what helps the work become yours. Why Your Creative Voice Matters There are two big reasons personal style matters. The first is personal. If you spend your life chasing everyone else's style, you're going to end up miserable. Now, let's be honest: early in the creative journey, imitation is part of the process. That's normal. That's healthy. That's how we learn. You see someone whose work you admire and you try to understand how they did it. You copy a lighting setup. You study a sentence structure. You recreate a beat. You reverse-engineer a design. You try to make something that looks or sounds or feels like the thing that inspired you. There's nothing wrong with that. In the beginning, imitation helps you learn how to move the tools around. It helps you close the gap between what you see in your mind and what you're actually capable of making. But imitation is not the destination. If all you ever do is copy what's trendy, or borrow someone else's point of view, or chase whatever style is getting attention right now, you are not expressing yourself. You are expressing the culture around you. And that is a direct path to burnout. Because the reason we make things, at the deepest level, is expression. We make because something inside wants to come out. We make because it feels good to turn an internal experience into something real in the world. We make because creativity is one of the ways we become more fully ourselves. If your work is always a response to someone else's style, you lose that connection. You become a mirror instead of a source. The second reason personal style matters is practical. If you want to do creative work professionally, you do not want to be paid merely for your time. There is nothing wrong with getting paid for your time. That can be part of the path. But the ultimate goal is not to be treated like a pair of hands. The ultimate goal is to be paid for your vision. You don't want someone to hire you because you own a camera. You want them to hire you because only you see the assignment that way. You don't want someone to hire you because you can operate software. You want them to hire you because your taste, your judgment, and your perspective create value. You don't want to be interchangeable. The most recognized creatives in the world are not valuable because they can execute a task. They are valuable because they bring a specific point of view to the table. That's what separates craft from commodity. When people can recognize your fingerprints on the work, when they can say, "That feels like you," you begin to move into a different category. You're no longer just competing on speed, price, or availability. You're competing on vision. And that is where the upside is. The Creative Gap One of the most important parts of this conversation is what Ira Glass famously called the creative gap. The creative gap is the distance between what you can see in your mind and what you're actually capable of making right now. Every creator knows this feeling. You have a vision. You can feel what you want the work to be. You can almost see it, hear it, taste it. But when you sit down to make the thing, the result falls short. The photograph doesn't look the way it looked in your head. The song doesn't hit the way you imagined. The essay feels clumsy. The design feels flat. The film doesn't carry the emotion you hoped it would. That gap is frustrating. But it is also the path. Craft is how you close the gap. You make, you study, you adjust, you learn, you make again. Over time, your ability catches up to your taste. You get better at translating the thing in your mind into the thing in the world. But here's the trap: If you spend that entire process only copying other people, you might improve technically without ever developing a voice of your own. You might become skilled at imitation. But mastery is not just being able to reproduce what already exists. Mastery is being able to make what only you can make. Personal Style Is Your Point of View Your creative voice is not just an aesthetic. It's not just black and white photography, clean typography, heavy brushstrokes, fast sketches, cinematic lighting, sparse production, or bold color. Those things can be part of a style, but they are not the whole thing. Your style is the point of view underneath those choices. It is the reason you reach for certain tools. The reason you frame things a certain way. The reason you simplify here and exaggerate there. The reason you are drawn to certain subjects, moods, colors, rhythms, textures, or stories. The episode uses a great example from the world of design: imagine trying to design a tennis shoe inspired by a glass bottle of gin. Suddenly, the bottle becomes a filter. You might notice the transparency, the edges, the shape, the weight, the way light moves through it. Those qualities start informing the shoe. That is a useful way to think about style. Your personal style is the filter your work passes through. It's not limited to one medium. If you are a photographer, designer, musician, writer, or multidisciplinary creator, your style should still carry across what you make. The medium may change, but the point of view travels. That's when people can look at a piece and say: That feels like you. Not because you repeated yourself mechanically, but because your way of seeing is present. How Do You Find Your Creative Voice? Here's the part people don't always want to hear: It takes time. There is no shortcut that replaces making the work. You can think about your style. You can journal about it. You can moodboard it. You can study other artists. You can talk about your influences. You can define your values. All of that can be useful. But none of it replaces the act of making. The best way to find your personal style is to make as much as you can, at a regular cadence, ideally as quickly and consistently as possible. Because your style is not something you force into existence. It is something you discover through repetition. You make one thing. Then ten things. Then a hundred things. At first, it may feel random. You may feel like you're all over the place. You may try on other people's approaches. You may borrow. You may experiment. You may make things that don't feel like you at all. That's okay. The making is the sorting mechanism. Over time, patterns start to appear. You notice what you keep returning to. You notice what feels alive. You notice what feels false. You notice the ch

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About

Chase Jarvis is a visionary photographer, artist and entrepreneur. Cited as one of the most influential photographers of the past decade, he is the founder & CEO of CreativeLive. In this show, Chase and some of the world's top creative entrepreneurs, artists, and celebrities share stories designed to help you gain actionable insights to recognize your passions and achieve your goals.

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