Greetings from East 42nd Street in New York City.

I’m here to begin a new journey as The $100 Startup goes out to the world tomorrow. Here are a few notes on the early beginnings.

***

It all started back in 2009. I had established the blog and began a new way of life: writing for a living. Or mostly, writing because it was what I wanted to do more than anything else.

I was traveling a lot, working my way through the middle part of going everywhere. I wrote posts and created products, adapting as I went along.

Not everything I wrote was amazing; not everything I published was a mega-hit. I made some mistakes.

But I kept learning, asking questions, trying different things.

A couple of things helped, and the best thing was that I met people. Introvert that I am, I learned to host meetups and connect with readers as I went on the road. This made a huge difference. I suddenly realized that it wasn’t just faceless people out there on the other side of the screen—they were real people with fascinating lives.

It was no longer just about my own little blog or quest to see the world; in many cases these people had their own quests and big projects. They were doing exciting things of their own.

I went back and regrouped, determined to learn more about them.

Among others, many of these people were what I called unexpected or accidental entrepreneurs—those who had created freedom for themselves by following their passion and creating something valuable. Most of them didn’t have MBAs or any real business training; they just did found a way to craft a business model around something they loved.

Since I had always worked for myself, I was intrigued with their stories. I collected a couple dozen of them of them and created a product called the Empire Building Kit.

J.D. Roth and I launched EBK on board the Amtrak Empire Builder train, selling $100,000 in copies on day one as we rolled along through North Dakota. Then we closed it for a month and did another $100,000 the next day it was open. It was clear we had a hit, but more important, it was clear that people were eager to learn about a specific way to create their own escape plan.

***

My first book, The Art of Non-Conformity, came out that September. I went on the road to all fifty states and all ten provinces in Canada, meeting more readers and hearing more stories at every stop.

There was James in South Carolina, who had packed up from Seattle and drove a Mustang “down south” to open an authentic coffee bar in the land of iced tea and biscuits.

There was Bernard from Croatia, who answered my survey questions from a beach in Thailand while working for clients in the U.S.

In California, Brett Kelly told me about making $120,000 from an ebook. The money was great, of course, but what it represented was even better: It allowed his wife Joana to quit her second job. Brett now works at home and the ebook continues to sell by the bucketload, at least $300/day in largely passive income.

Most of these people had started on their own, without a lot of money, but in a few cases, they needed money and found a creative way to get it. Emma in Hong Kong couldn’t get a bank loan for a business, so she asked for a car loan instead. She used the money to start the business and repaid it early. (There never was a car.)

Shannon Oakey told me about going to her community bank to ask for a loan. She had all her finances in order and had supported the bank for many years, but they still turned her down. Shannon decided to do it herself through a Kickstarter campaign. She got more money than she needed and mailed a printout of the result, with a lollipop wrapped up inside, to the loan officer who turned her down.

The stories went on and on, and I began paying closer attention, asking for details and filing away various notes. Then I realized the obvious: this needs to be a book.

***

While I was in the middle of the first book tour, I drove from North Dakota to South Dakota. We were in the final negotiations for what would become The $100 Startup, and I had to make a choice between competing offers. I talked to my great literary agent on the phone, made a decision, and that was it—the deal was done.

I pulled over in Brookings, South Dakota and made a stop at the “Choco Latte” coffee shop. I ordered an Americano (“no choco, please”) and felt a rush of relief as I settled down to relax for the first time in a while.

This feels great, I remember thinking. Now I just need to write the book.

Fast forward to last year. I rearranged my travel schedule to be home for three whole months, a world record. We began a comprehensive research study, looking for people who would fit our model of “unexpected entrepreneurs.”

The respondents had to be able to talk about money in specific terms. How much did they make? How did expenses compare to income? What was the initial startup investment? What went right—and wrong—along the way?

Most important, what could the rest of us learn from these people? What were their secrets?

From a pool of more than 1,500 respondents, I chose the top 100 for further interviews. I made phone calls to Thailand, Dublin, London, and elsewhere. I wrote and received email after email. After a month, we had thousands of pages of data in Google Docs, Evernote, and scattered around various hard drives.

And then I wrote. 1,000 words a day for 90 days—not all consecutive, but almost every day. (This is how you write a book. The basic process is pretty simple.)

And then we edited. Wow. Talk about process. The whole manuscript was rewritten three times. Entire chapters were discarded. It was painful but worth it, all in pursuit of something that would be both inspiring AND useful to those who wanted to create their own independence and freedom.

Fast forward another six months. After returning from the Sudan, I spent the entire month of April at home in Portland. I got up at 6am and went to Crossfit with J.D. He drove while I made various notes about the launch plan, MacBook sitting on my knees. Back at home, I made breakfast and answered more emails.

Then I settled into a daily 5-hour routine. Every day, I did back-to-back media interviews of various kinds and wrote all sorts of guest posts, Q&A features, and op-eds, all set to go out over the next two weeks.

I did this every day, six days a week. On Sundays I went for a long run and to brunch with Jolie, but then I got back into the written interviews in the afternoon.

Meanwhile, Wes Wages was traveling the country, visiting New York, South Carolina, Oregon, and California to document some of the people in the book. The initial results were compiled into a great book trailer (240,000 views so far!) that featured several of the inspiring stories from the book.

Finally, the day came—yesterday. I got on a plane and flew to New York, capital of planet earth and a place I love dearly. I’ve been going on walks, seeing friends, going out to dinner, and getting ready.

Tomorrow morning I’ll go for a run in Central Park, and tomorrow night we’ll begin the tour.

Tomorrow, Tomorrow

I thought I’d share the backstory behind this project for those who were curious, but make no mistake—the book isn’t about me at all.

This is truly a revolution, friends. The best is yet to come, and The $100 Startup is just one part of the story. The rest of the story is up to you.

The goal of the book is to share these case studies and teach readers to do this too. One of the best things I hear is when someone quits their job to go it alone. I’d like to hear it a lot more often, and I think this book will help.

It’s not a self-help guide, it’s a blueprint for change and action. It’s a mission to connect the twin concepts of freedom and value. You create value by helping people, and you can earn a good living for yourself.

I’ve done everything I can to make the book a success, but now it’s up to the rest of the world.

See you tomorrow?

###

*The $100 Startup debuts tomorrow—look for it online or ask for it at our favorite bookstore. Tour dates and cities are here—all tickets are free. There may also be cupcakes!

Image: See-ming Lee

Want to become wiser? It’s fairly simple and closely resembles Brian Tracey’s formula for being luckier:

“Luck is quite predictable. To have more luck, take more chances.”

To become wiser, therefore, take more risks and stop letting fear rule your life. Change it up a little.

In honor of last week’s dual birthdays, here are 34 things I wish I knew years ago.

***

Reduce the amount of negative inputs to your life.

When I was first using Twitter, I signed up for a service that sent me notifications whenever people unfollowed me. What a terrible idea! I started worrying about every post. Should I not say something about my actual life? If I post a photo of my cat on top of the refrigerator, is that too off-topic?

Thankfully this concern lasted only two days. I turned off the notifications and life improved.

There is almost always more than one way to accomplish something.

There is a traditional way and usually multiple alternatives. The alternatives aren’t always better—just be aware that they exist. You don’t have to do it the way everyone else does. You don’t have to jump off the bridge.

Some people may be threatened by alternatives, but that’s OK—your life isn’t determined by what other people think.

Make your peace with money.

Money does buy happiness, at least a certain amount of it. But after a while, more money doesn’t buy more happiness. Therefore, figure out what you want to do and let those things determine your budget.

Never ask, “I have x amount of dollars—how should I divvy that up among various expenses and projects?” Always ask, “What level of resources do I need to accomplish all the goals and projects I want to pursue?”

Focus on income more than expenses.

The way out of debt is not usually found through clipping coupons, skipping lattes, or buying discount toilet tissue. It is found through increasing your income. Live frugally and consciously, yes, but if you’re struggling, find ways to make more money instead of ways to cut back even further.

(Related: It’s OK to be poor for a time, but don’t have a poverty mentality.)

Balanced people don’t change the world.

Passionate people who don’t have it all together change the world. If you’re worried about life-work balance, something is probably wrong with your life or your work. Instead of agonizing over balance, get excited and create change.

Deadlines and quotas are your friends.

Set them and live by them, or live by the law of procrastination. Forced deadlines are better than artificial ones, but take whatever you can get.

If you want to publish a blog, do so on a regular schedule—no exceptions. If you’re trying to write, aim to write at least 1,000 words a day. These practices will serve you well.

Get over it.

If you’re like most of us, something bad probably happened to you at some point. It was unfair and cruel. Maybe it was even really bad.

But you have to get over it for reasons that are entirely selfish. Simply put, you can’t let these things define you. It’s about your life, not anyone else’s. At some point, you just have to move on.

Even atheists want something to believe in.

We all want a mission. Eager volunteers will usually work harder than paid employees. Give people something to believe in and they will support your cause. Challenge them to be a part of something bigger than themselves.

In any project, create your own definition of success.

If not, you’ll always be playing someone else’s game. Play your own game. Make the rules and decide how you’ll score the points. Choose to be in charge and then you are in charge–it’s not complicated.

Understand that some positions and organizations exist solely to make your life difficult.

I called them the Department of No in my first book—people who are in charge of saying no. To negate their powers, you can go around these people, ignore them entirely, or get them on your side by making them think you are on their side. (Direct confrontation is often a losing battle—they have been saying no for a long time.)

Helping others makes your own life better.

I call it “selfish generosity.” Freely give, freely receive. The greatest decision Jolie and I made together was choosing to move to Africa and volunteer. We would come back to the U.S. to visit and people would say, “Wow, what you are doing is so great!” And we would say, “Yes, it is… for us.”

“It’s not time to worry yet.”

This quote comes from Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird, by way of Jolie. There’s a time to worry, but it often comes much later than we think. If you don’t need to worry… don’t.

Related: don’t borrow trouble.

Tweaks matter.

At a certain point, it’s all about continuous improvement. When you’re near death, running a marathon, or tweaking copy for a sales page, 15% improvement is huge.

One definition of happiness is “Continuously improving your circumstances.” I would add: “and the circumstances of others”—but more on that in a moment.

Avoid getting into a position where you’re unable to walk away.

Never find yourself powerless. Be careful about negotiating from a point of weakness; it’s usually better to improve your odds first. (Tip: if you do find yourself in such a position, sometimes the greatest thing you can do is to walk away anyway.)

Love the process.

It’s all process—in life, in love, in work, in travel. Visiting every country is largely about process, not outcome. I just like doing it! I like the planning, the executing, the challenge, the memories. Sometimes I even like all the stress over visas and complicated routings.

That’s partly why I’m sad that it’s ending next year, but that’s another story.

Be a believer, not a cynic.

Yeah, it’s much easier to tear down than to build. That’s what most people do. “I’d just like to play devil’s advocate…”

But the world has enough cynics, so your challenge is to build.

Loneliness: It’s not all bad.

It’s OK to be alone sometimes. It makes you tougher. It makes you aware of the world. And when the time comes when you’re not lonely, it makes you appreciate it more.

Chances are, you’ll never regret saying “thank you.”

Remember the words of Dalai Lama: Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.

To be clear, I don’t always follow this guideline—I often fall short. That’s why it’s the model. See “continuous improvement.”

Be careful about advice—both giving and receiving.

Most of the time, you already know what you need to do. And most of the time, the people who ask for your advice don’t really want it. (Hint: they want you to say, “That sounds great!”)

Less stuff, more life experiences.

Invest in experiences more than furniture. It’s not “throwing your money away”—it’s spending it wisely.

Note: this doesn’t mean you won’t buy furniture or you can’t have a home life. It just means you deliberately choose to value experiences. You are willing to save and invest in them, even to the exclusion of things you choose to own.

When getting started, just get started.

“I had a great idea that I never followed through on!”

Guess what: no one cares. Get started and see what happens, or let it go. Find a way to launch your project within 30 days of conceiving it. If that feels uncomfortable, make it 3 days.

If you want to get noticed, do something worth noticing.

The way to attract influential people to your life (if you care about such a thing) is by doing something worth noticing, not by asking people to notice you. Basic… but so often missed.

Also, don’t be a curator, be an instigator.

Comfort zones are comfortable for a reason.

Make small changes, make big changes, but choose to change. Change is the only constant. To get out of a rut, change one thing at a time until you find the answer, or change it all at once and see what happens.

It can’t be worse, right?

Sad but true: sometimes the people close to you won’t understand.

Whether returning from a trip or choosing the path less traveled by, a strange phenomenon tends to occur: those who are closest to you just don’t understand.

Yeah, it’s tough. You may even encounter resistance. This is sad, and sometimes it gets better as people get used to it. Even if not, you’ll usually find other people who do understand. (It’s a funny thing.)

When in doubt about the next step, help someone and make something.

Do these two actions every day, 365 days a year. When you get stuck at any point in any process, come back to the basics: helping and creating.

(These things also help when you’re depressed. For me, drinking coffee and running—not usually at the same time—help too.)

Choose active over passive whenever possible.

When I’m home I exercise almost every day, seven days a week. But it’s not as hardcore as it sounds. Plenty of days, I run out of time or energy and can only manage a brief, 15-20 minute run at the end of the day.

A few years ago I learned that those 15 minute runs have both physical and emotional benefits. Since then, I’ve tried to make active choices: walk whenever possible, ride my bike instead of taking the bus, do one more thing before going to bed. In short, choose forward motion.

Failure is overrated.

People often paint failure as a glorious thing. “Embrace it!” Really? You are a winner. Choose to win.

Sure, you’ll probably fail at some things. Whatever. Who cares? Success is better.

Attack a few big projects at a time with lots of small steps.

It’s the time and money theory: how much time, how much money, how much additional resources will you need? Break it down, step by step. Work on the steps every day and add to them as you go along. It’s simple, powerful, and effective. Anything you want to make, build, do, or accomplish using your own force can be managed this way.

Do your own thing.

Yes, we all know this. It’s better to be the authentic you than an excellent copy of someone else—everyone agrees.

The problem is that imitators can often achieve some degree of success. Then they think, hey, this works! Well, it does work… at a low level. But it’s deceptive. If you really want to step it up, you have to find your own way, however you do it.

Ask a lot of questions.

There’s an old saying that the pope and the peasant combined know more than the pope. In other words, you can learn from anyone. Be curious and ask questions wherever you go. (Also, beware of incurious people—such people think they know a lot, but usually don’t.)

Say yes more often than no.

Yes, you should put limits around yourself and protect your commitments—for the things you don’t want to do. Everything else, fill your life with fun people and projects. Say yes!

Forget about never being afraid, but don’t let your fears make your decisions.

We’re all afraid of something. The trick is to make sure you’re challenging yourself enough, and to decide things independent of your fears. Figure out what you’re really afraid of, then don’t hold back! Also, as mentioned above—say yes.

Complacency will suck the life out of you if you let it.

Always try to better yourself. Don’t stop growing. If you do become complacent somewhere and stop improving, move on to a new challenge as quickly as possible.

Also, remember something when considering new challenges: If the outcome is certain, it’s not really a challenge. (Hat tip: Jonathan.)

Pursue a life focused on creative work.

What if, every day, we focused our lives on making something and putting it out in the world—and what if we adopted this as our primary way of viewing the world? What if this was our core focus, our motivation, and our practice?

(Note: This perspective is not incompatible with religion, philosophy, or other worldviews. It’s a way to live. I wrote about this subject more in The Tower.)

Life is short. Live with urgency!

This isn’t a new lesson; I’ve been aware of it for a long time. But it’s how I try to live every day—with the constant awareness that each moment is finite and non-renewable. We don’t get it back.

There are models that focus more on letting go and taking it easy. If that works for you, great. But if you find it unsettling that each day is slipping away, the alternative is to live with urgency. Come to the end feeling worn out.

***

Those are my 34 things, in no particular order except the last. Thankfully I was only turning 34 and not 75… that would have required a lot more thinking.

Whatever age you are, what have you learned? Tell us something here.

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*Want to use this post as a model for your own blog? Feel free to share your own 34 things and include a link back here. We’ll share a sample of reader posts in an upcoming follow-up.

*In case you missed last Thursday’s post, I’m giving up my birthday for Charity:Water. You can do the same with your own next birthday.

Image: Jodi

Dear Reader,

I found these letters in a beautiful book based off this website. There are a variety of stories expressed in the letters, some hopeful and some painful. I thought I’d share a few with you below.

Reading the letters reminded me of something I’ve believed for many years now: If you love someone, you should tell them. Don’t wait. Always choose love and seek to live a life without regret.

I also think there’s a letter you need to write. I don’t know what it should be about or to whom the letter should be sent, but I’m pretty sure there’s something out there you should think about before it’s too late.

My advice would be: write the letter. A few from other people are expressed below.

Your writer,

Chris, age 33

Dear Connor,

I’ve been wanting to tell you how I feel, but I was afraid, and still am. Afraid of what to say, how to say it, when to say it, and what you’d say in return. One day I’ll be able to, and hopefully spelling it out will help, so here it goes. You make everything better, you make me better, and I love you.

Yours,
Erin, age 25

Dear Mom,

It would have been so easy. I had won a free trip to Hawaii. I knew you would love to go. But I was busy with my own life as a single professional. There was time. I’d make the travel arrangements later.

One year later, you ran out of time. You died of a fast-moving cancer and I missed the chance. Losing you was so final. There’s always another chance in life until you come to the end of it.

So now, I laugh loud. I tell my husband I love him. I take those trips. I go for that walk. I don’t mind making mistakes for things I’ve done.

I just don’t want to regret the things I didn’t do.

Glory, age 46

Dear new fish,

I hope you enjoy your new house. I don’t have a pet that can eat you. You are going to be in my room. You can watch me sleep. It will be awesome. I won’t ignore you. I won’t let anything dangerous happen to you.

Love,
Ethan, age 8

***

So now it’s your turn. You should read the book, or at least the website, and then you should write a letter. Will you do that?

There are no comments on this post. If you find it meaningful, the best response is to write a letter of your own, and then send it to the person who needs it. I hope you’ll do that very soon.

###

Image: Lilly

I recently posted a question to readers about what to do in an uncertain airport situation. This was the scenario:

You arrive very late at an airport you haven’t been to before. Security takes forever, but the flight is on time—which means you’re even more rushed.

You walk into the terminal and look for your gate: A70. Damn… you’re currently at A18. Above you is an “Express Train” that runs between A1 and A75 with an unknown number of intermediate stops.

You know if you take the escalator up to the train and catch a ride it could be faster—but remember, you’re unfamiliar with this airport.

Will you have to wait for the train to arrive? How much faster will it actually be? Might it be better to hoof it?

You can’t just stand there and think about it forever… remember, time is short. You have only ten minutes to get to A70 before they close the flight.

It’s up to you… what do you do?

I greatly enjoyed reading all the responses, which came in a range of perspectives. Readers were fairly divided on the answer. A majority said they would hoof it, but a significant minority said they would take the train. A few others had unconventional ideas that were fun to read.

I also tend to fall on the “choose the action you are in control of” side, and not just when I’m running late at the airport. Upon arriving in the downtown area of an unfamiliar city, I’m happy to walk for an hour with my bags… as long as I know where I’m going. When I’m lost, which happens often, I get incredibly frustrated with myself. In the case of the airport scenario, I hoofed it—and I made it to the gate just in time, sweaty but triumphant.

I don’t think this approach is always right, though.

Sometimes I notice similar situations where it would indeed be better to take the train, stop and figure out my surroundings, or whatever the equivalent decision is. For example, our internet went down at World Domination HQ (also known as my house) recently. I was frustrated and didn’t know what to do, but instead of trying to think it through, I used my iPhone as a connection for a while and then went outside to the nearby coffee shop for two hours.

Since I work online for much of the day, it was frustrating to lose the one thing that I absolutely need to function. Meanwhile, Jolie came home and spent five minutes figuring it out before it was working again. Ignoring the problem—my approach—was clearly not the best answer.

***

Showing up in Eritrea without a visa last week, I felt I was once again approaching the “walk or take the train” scenario, albeit with higher stakes. If something went wrong, I could be put in jail or thrown out of the country—which is exactly what happened in the end. But sitting on the tarmac before disembarking into uncertainty, I had a thought:

It’s not the outcome that matters. It’s the decision to act.

Most of us judge the outcome of a course of action, not the intent. Consider a guy who performs a dangerous stunt on a motorcycle. If it goes well, we think he’s brave, courageous, a badass. If he fails or is injured, we think he’s stupid, foolish, and deserves what he gets.

In the case of Eritrea, I wasn’t responsible for an outcome that was largely outside my control; I was only responsible for the decision to go. Perhaps it was a foolish decision, but I knew I had to take the chance.

By the way, thanks for the flood of input last week about whether the Eritrea adventure “counted” for my quest. Strong opinions were expressed from all sides, but it looks like a 3-to-1 majority voted in favor.

I also understand and appreciate those who disagreed with the majority. If I can get back to Eritrea at some point later, I will, but for now I’ve got to work on my 13 remaining countries.

As the plane touched down and we taxied to the remote stand where I’d hop on the shuttle bus and prepare to meet the officials, I asked myself: How am I feeling?

I had a lot of nervous energy, I really didn’t know what awaited me on the other side, and you know what? It felt good.

I resolved then that whatever happened, I was glad I had taken the risk. A few hours later as I was being marched back to the plane to Cairo with handlers who had confiscated my passport, I was exhausted and unsure how I’d find my way out of Egypt—but still glad I had made the trip.

It’s not the outcome; it’s the decision to act.

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*Last reminder: tomorrow is the big day for WDS 2012! We expect to offer the final round of tickets to those on the waiting list at 9am PST / 12pm EST.

Image: Fayj

Many thanks to everyone who has been reading or supporting the launch of The Tower, my new manifesto. If you missed it on Tuesday, you can pick up your free copy in a range of formats.

I also want to thank my long-time friend and colleague Reese Spykerman, specialist in branding and magic, for her great work on the design. Reese truly raised her game on this one as we worked on telling a story through words and images.

I’m now writing from Dubai, en route to Nairobi and eventually Somaliland if all goes well. Over the next ten days, I’ll be in the region and visiting some hard-to-get-to countries.

***

The Tower is all about the subjects of urgency and legacy, written through the analogy of an iPad game I played on another trip to Africa several months ago. The goal is to encourage readers to think about crafting a life oriented around creative work that helps others.

Here’s a selection from the last portion:

There is a cemetery in my neighborhood that I often pass through while running. It’s been there for a long time, with gravestones marking the deaths of people who died as early as 1846. The cemetery is multicultural and interfaith, with inscriptions in many languages and numerous forms of honoring the dead.

As I run through this resting place and toward the waterfront that flows through the center of my city, I often think about these people, loved by others but unknown to me except through the epitaphs on their tombstones. Did they live the life they wanted? Their lives mattered regardless of the choices they made, but did they fulfill their potential? Did they die with any unresolved regrets?

Someone who died a hundred or more years ago may have lived a meaningful life, but the choices that were available to them were dramatically different than the ones available to us today. They couldn’t take one million photos, visit every country in the world, or talk to thousands of interlinked people from all walks of life through the online social web.

The same may be said about us in another 150 years, but that is not our concern. Whether the era that we live in is more special than others or not, a single fact remains: this is our time. This is our chance.

I wrote the manifesto, and this section in particular, because I believe it’s important to take advantage of the tremendous opportunities around us. That is the overall message I hope to communicate with AONC in general: life is short, so let’s pick up the pace and make our time count for something.

Next year I’ll be making some changes in how I publish this blog and the overall focus of related work. My goal is to continue getting more specific about how we can live intentionally and pursue a big dream, while serving others and crafting a legacy. (I’ll explain more about this during the forthcoming Annual Review.)

I’m grateful to have a platform with so many amazing people who read and contribute from around the world. You inspire me.

Oh, and if you haven’t read The Tower yet, check it out! It’s best read on an iPad or other tablet, but you can also read via simple PDF, Kindle, or just plain text.

You can also share your own ideas about legacy projects in the original comment thread.

Wishing you well from DXB-NBO,

###

Image: Mavis

Greetings, friends and readers.

I’m on the road as usual, and today I’m also excited to announce the release of a new manifesto, The Tower.

As with my two earlier works, A Brief Guide to World Domination and 279 Days to Overnight Success, this report is completely free, with nothing for sale and no email opt-in required.

***

You can download your own copy here –>

The Tower — Main Download Link (PDF)

Kindle Version | Version for Printing

Tech Notes: This document is best experienced on an iPad (click the PDF in Safari to open a version in iBooks) or other tablet device.

If viewing on a regular computer, you’ll need the latest free version of Adobe Reader. For Kindle support, see this page.

***

What It’s About and Who It’s For

This report is not about Frequent Flyer Miles or making money as a blogger, as much fun as those things can be. Instead, it’s about URGENCY and LEGACY—topics I’ve been thinking a lot about recently.

What if life were like a video game? How can we incorporate creative work and the desire to build something into our routine? What truly matters?

These are the questions I examine in the manifesto. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be traveling in Africa and then doing my Annual Review. Wherever you are in the world, I hope you’ll take some time to think about the next year and your own legacy project.

As always, thanks for reading.

Action #1: If you find the report interesting and valuable, would you please help in spreading it along?

You can post a link to this page or the whole PDF on your blog, through Facebook, or wherever you connect with interesting people.

Action #2: What does legacy mean to you… and what are you doing about it today?

Feel free to share your response to this question through the comments field.

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Image: Thomas

I’ve been working on a new, non-profit writing project that I’ll share tomorrow. Here’s a preview of the concept—for more on the project itself, see the note at the end or check back tomorrow.

***

A specter is haunting the internet. Everywhere you go, you hear about how you should slow down. First it was slow food (a good thing). Then there was slow living (not so good) and the rejection of striving and effort (even worse).

The central part of this message is: “There’s plenty of time. Stop hurrying and take it easy. Bake cakes, play in the forest, do what you want.”

I’ve been thinking about this a lot over the past few months, and tomorrow’s project is an attempt to say something different.

The central part of the alternative message is: “HURRY UP. Life is short, so we should put our limited time to good use.”

Why so intense? Because we only get one chance.

Why the rush? Because we’ve got a lot to do and a short amount of time to do it.

***

A common scenario involves imagining that today was your last day on earth:

What would you do if this was it? You have only one day to live.

It’s a good question to think about, but not sufficient on its own. If today were your last day, you might tell someone you loved them. You might try to make amends with someone you had wronged. You might enjoy the time as much as possible, and you might indeed bake a cake.

All of these things are good, but you can do them anytime. No need to wait for the warning of a last day that you’ll never receive. Most of us don’t get the chance to know when our last day is, and even if we do, we’re not usually in a position to make real changes.

Besides, a single day is short-term by design, and you’ll never create anything with lasting value in the short-term. Sure, you can “live in the present”—but if you want to build something beautiful, you’d better be thinking about the future as well.

Instead of watching life as it passes you by, what if you actively worked on crafting a legacy composed of creative work that helps others?

What if there was a systematic method of “legacy work” that allowed you to build this enduring record step-by-step?

Yes, there might be plenty of time left. But what if there’s not?

There is an urgency to life, whether you want it or not. When you embrace the urgency instead of ignoring it, you can create something that changes the world. Oh, and you can do this in a fun way that makes the best use of your own talent and motivation.

In a world of take-it-easy, who needs a life oriented about effort and achievement?

Well, I certainly do. And perhaps you do too.

***

Tomorrow morning I’ll release a new manifesto, the first in more than two years. It’s all about living with urgency and how you can build something over time. If you find it worthy of attention, I’d be grateful for your help in spreading the word.

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Image: Rutty

Greetings from my corner of the world in Portland, Oregon.

It’s Thanksgiving Day in the U.S., a time when the internet shuts down and we all eat pie. Everyone else, feel free to enjoy the internet to yourself and eat pie along with us.

Earlier this week I was in Cuba, my 174th country and final country in all of the Americas. I’ll have more to say about my adventure there next week, but in short, I had a fantastic visit.

I’m now home in 97214 and looking forward to a long run this morning, then a Thanksgiving lunch with Jolie. I try to live with gratitude every day, so I don’t have anything special to say on the fourth Thursday of November.

Otherwise, our only-once-a-year sale at UnconventionalGuides.com continues today and through Monday. Use discount code “CRANBERRY” to save 15% on all orders.

I’ll see you again after the weekend!

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Image: Sarah

An unexpected thing happened on the streets of Seoul, Korea.

I’ve been to Seoul several times, and don’t really feel anything special about it. It’s not a bad place in any way, and perhaps I’d like it more if I spent more time there. I just don’t think of Seoul in a special way, as I do with other Asian cities like Hong Kong, Singapore, and Bangkok.

That’s why the thing was so unexpected. All of a sudden while riding along in the interminable airport shuttle (the main airport is more than an hour from the city), I began to feel sad. I looked around and realized that even though I didn’t love Seoul itself, in the near future I would greatly miss this experience.

For more than ten years, I’ve been actively traveling in all parts of the world. For the past four years, travel has been a near-obsession. I’ve been in at least 20 countries every year, often more like thirty-five when you consider all the transits and stopovers.

There hasn’t been any time when I haven’t been planning at least one big trip. I’ve had multiple, ten-segment itineraries open at any given time. I’ve spent thousands of dollars in processing fees and FedEx charges sending my passports back and forth from D.C. and various embassies, often receiving them back the day of my departure before rushing out to the airport.

And on this trip, I realized for the very first time… that one day, before too long, it will be coming to an end.

168 countries down, only 25 to go.

I remember my visit to Sri Lanka, country #100, so clearly. I was jetlagged and made the mistake of taking a nap at 4pm. Waking up before midnight, I spent the rest of the night writing the original Working for Yourself guide and walking on the beach outside my hotel.

It feels so recent, but that visit was actually sixty-eight countries ago. Life has been flying by so quickly.

***

The quest to visit every country was always personal—I knew I’d do it even if no one cared or noticed. But when I started writing about big adventures (and YOU started reading), things changed a lot, mostly for the better.

At almost every book tour stop, meetup, or speaking gig over the past year, someone asked the question: “What will you do after you finish seeing the world?” Other people would nod, as if they were wondering too.

After a few false starts, I developed a good answer: “Well, I have no plans to stop traveling. I’d like to go back and revisit some of the places I especially liked.”

I also said that travel is only one part of what I do. I write books, start businesses, host the World Domination Summit and other events, and… a lot more. None of those things are coming to an end anytime soon.

These answers—I’ll keep traveling in some form, and I do more than just travel—are both true. But now I understand something that perhaps many of you already knew when you asked the question: the answers were true, but they weren’t sufficient. There is a real sense of loss as a big adventure comes to an end, and I should be prepared for it.

***

Assuming all goes well, the adventure is coming to an end over the next 16 months. There’s still a long way to go, but I can finally foresee a time when there won’t be any more stressing over visas and hopping off to random countries that I knew nothing about until a few years ago. I probably won’t sleep on many airport floors, and won’t likely maximize a 10-segment itinerary to get to as many stops as possible.

I don’t know what comes next, and the thought of coming to the end feels like a real loss.

An actor friend gave me a metaphor: when a show closes, the actors all experience a feeling of sadness and loss. This is usually true even if they didn’t especially love the show, or even if they’re all ready to move on to something else. You still have to say goodbye to an intense period of your life, and that’s always tough.

So now, after failing to grasp the problem, I suddenly get it. I felt like crying on that airport bus from Seoul, and it wasn’t because I wanted another day in Korea. It was that I’ve been working for something for so long, and now that it actually seems within reach, I don’t know what to do with myself.

Of course I’ll still travel and write after April 7, 2013. I’ll start more projects than I can finish and say yes to things I’m excited about. The best is yet to come. But I do understand… this is a problem I don’t yet know how to solve.

***

From Seoul I went down to Uzbekistan, a quirky little country in Central Asia. I’ve always been intimidated by the region before, mostly because I didn’t have the greatest experience in Russia. The lingua franca of the region is Russian, a language I know nothing of, and the administrative process in many “stan” countries resembles a Soviet Union that only exists in memory and excessive paperwork.

But this time, I began to see a key difference between a place like Uzbekistan and Russia itself. They are quite different, and I prefer Uzbekistan. I went for an hour-long run and returned back to a breakfast at my guesthouse with a large group of Indian travelers. Several of the people were quite loud and kept shouting to the waiters. “Hot milk! Bring us hot milk! Napkins! Omelette!” The waiters, who didn’t speak English, kept nodding and running back and forth to the kitchen. It was all quite hilarious and reminded me of why I travel.

I could have stayed longer. I would have enjoyed taking a tour to learn more about history and art. Of course, I had to move on after a brief stay, and that’s OK. No regrets. But when my taxi driver deposited me at the Tashkent airport, I motioned to him to stop outside the parking lot so I could walk in.

The driver, who told me had been taking English classes, phoned in to the dispatcher to find out how much the fare should be (another odd, bureaucratic system). He came back and quoted a figure that was a couple bucks more than I had been told to pay at the hotel. I explained what I had been told, and asked if I could pay the lower fare.

“Sir, I not lie you!” the driver told me. He seemed genuinely distressed about my concern, and genuinely honest. I gave him the higher fare, along with a small bit of extra cash that I wouldn’t be needing anywhere but Uzbekistan. Nice guy.

Then I took my time in walking to the terminal, stopping to watch the sunset and the crowded group of people waiting to greet arriving passengers. Another guy approached, offering another taxi but also just wanting to chat. We had a comical, one-sided conversation in English and Russian (guess which side I was) that ended with me flapping my arms to indicate I didn’t need another taxi because I was preparing to fly away. He smiled and waved me off.

Inside, I did the same thing… no rush, no hurry. Soak it all in, I told myself. Don’t forget this time and place. You’ll never be back, so hold on to whatever you can.

***

On the way home the following week, I got stuck and had to detour for an unexpected three-day stay in Sydney. I ran in the gardens, went on a walking tour, drank Australian pinot noir. It was beautiful and once again reminded me of all the things I loved about travel when I started.

Then I flew home via Melbourne and Los Angeles, and then it was over. Sure, I have five open trips planned—sorting out my visa for Eritrea is the problem of the moment—but all is on track.

Only 25 countries to go. And then what? Only time will tell.

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Image: YST

Earlier this year I went to Austin to co-facilitate a discussion at SXSW with Jonathan Fields. Our topic was “Fear and the Art of Creation,” and we had a great crowd. Despite the challenging time slot of early Sunday morning, tons of people showed up and filled the room.

I said a few things in an attempt to sound mildly intelligent (my secret: always be the opening act and get off stage quickly), and then Jonathan said some much more intelligent things. The image from this post includes a few of the stories we shared with the audience over the course of an hour (hat tip to Ogilvy Notes for the fun illustration).

At some point we dragged Kate Northrup up to the front, who also said some intelligent things—the car in the upper-right corner of the illustration came from where she talked about how she expected to marry a lobsterman in Maine, but ended up on a cross-country road-trip of undetermined length instead. (I guess you had to be there.)

This conversation was also an early preview of Jonathan’s new book, which officially launches next week. The book’s theme is all about turning fear into fuel for brilliance, redefining risk, and embracing (not just overcoming) uncertainty. I wish I had written this book myself, but because I didn’t, I’ll just have to buy lots of copies of this one.

Here’s a clip of Jonathan speaking at WDS 2011 for a more extended preview of his work:

***

After knowing Jonathan for three years, I’ve now spent time with him in Portland, New York, Austin (twice), Chicago, and Pittsburgh—where we spoke at the same TedX event at Carnegie Mellon two years ago. I asked him to be the final WDS keynote speaker because I knew he would do a great job at sending our attendees out to properly take over the world. (Similarly, I asked our mutual friend Pam Slim to be the opening speaker because I knew she would set the tone well.)

These days I get at least one review copy of a new book in the mail every day, and I’m only able to write about ones that I think are especially important or timely (I give the others away to the local library or used bookstore). Rest assured: this one fits the bill! It deserves broad readership.

If you’d like to check out the Uncertainty book, one tip: now is the time to do so. A lot of what happens with the life of published book depends on what happens the week of the launch, which is why I want to help give this one a push now.

You can buy it on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Chapters, or support your local bookstore. I have already pre-ordered several copies myself, as I know this is a needed resource at a critical time. If you read and appreciate it, help him out further by leaving a customer review or telling your friends about it.

***

Travel note: I’m in Tashkent, Uzbekistan today… all’s well, but I won’t be around for emails or blog comments. We’ll pick those things up again next week!

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