Letting Go of Achievement: From Mercenary to Emissary
Transform your relationship with an obsessive pursuit of external success before it's too late.
The Breaking Point: When Achievement Becomes Poison
"Better. Faster. More."
This was the refrain that lived in a constant loop in my head throughout high school and college (and beyond if I'm being honest).
Get a 5 on the AP test? Why weren't you taking more of those classes? What else can you be taking for college credit next year?
Be named captain? How is that going to help you get into college? Or when it happened in college, how will that help you go pro?
How can you be doing more extracurriculars? Why aren’t you doing more public service? Shouldn’t you be working and earning more? Why aren’t you getting stronger?
Nothing was good enough. For me, and in my head, for everyone else around me. No achievement lasted. No award endured.
I was in a state of perpetual dissatisfaction, and I felt that if I did not keep pushing my mind and my body to the breaking point, I would drown.
Story time.
The last B I received was in 4th grade. I maintained a perfect 4.0 until my senior year of college where all of this striving, all of this achieving finally came to a head. I finally broke.
At the start of my senior year of college, soccer season was going well. We were good — very good. A number of us had been starting every game since freshman year, and we ripped off a 6-0 start to the season for the first time in the program's history. My teammates, Franklin, Kyill, and I were two-year captains, committed to getting ourselves and the team to the conference tournament for the first time since we started playing together.
Meanwhile, I had both of my senior seminars for Environmental Studies and Hispanic Studies. At my university, senior seminars were essentially mini-master's theses. As a first introduction to formal research, they were not easy. Not even close.
I was also the Awareness Events Commissioner for Student Senate, President of the Student Athlete Advisory Committee, co-President for the GreeNetwork, and working on the side as a Spanish tutor, an assistant for the Environmental Studies department, and as an aide for the athletic department.
I barely slept.
The only nights I got more than 4-5 hours in were the nights before soccer games. I thought I’d be fine, because I thought out I was Superman.
Turns out, I’m not. Not even close. And for the first in-progress grade on my Senior Seminar, I see a letter I haven't seen since 4th grade:
B. For bitch-ass.
I freaked out.
I immediately (and I mean within 3 minutes) scheduled a meeting with the professor. Got my full Karen haircut ready to go and everything. What’s important to know is that this professor had been both my mentor, my advisor, and my boss for going on 4 years now. If anyone is going to have my back, it’s her.
When I walked into her office, I flopped down into the chair across from her, feeling something that might have been exhaustion deep in my bones. When she asked how I was doing, I gave some non-answer because it didn't matter how I felt. I had work to get back to the second after we sort this out.
"Professor," I said, "what can I do to bring my grade up?"
"Danny, before we get there, are you ok?"
“I’m fine. What can I do to bring my grade up?” I repeat.
Silence.
"I have to ask this... are you on drugs?"
Fkn wot?
My mentor, teacher, borderline friend, just asked me… what??? I almost couldn't answer. But the inside of my head went a little like this:
“YOU KNOW ME BETTER THAN THAT! I, Daniel C Kenny, who care so much about school, who is literally killing himself to do well in your classes, who has always given you 110% in every single one of your classes and every single little task you’ve given me for work, you think I could be doing drugs at the busiest, most vital time of my college career? Are you fucking serious?!?!?”
I didn't say all of that.
But the indignation came through as I explained, with some vehemence, that no, I'm not on drugs, thank you. I'm just not sleeping a lot with all that's on my plate. Can we, please, return to the matter at hand of how I can work to restore my grade and the universe to order?
In further proof of how little she understood me, she offered that maybe I should step back from soccer.
Death first.
Soccer was the only outlet keeping me sane at this point. Only on the field could I disconnect and not think, not hear the refrain of how much more I needed to be doing to survive and thrive, not just in this semester, but for every semester and year going forward.
I flatly rejected her proposal. "That's not on the table. I'll find a way to make it work. Now what can I do to bring my grade up?"
"Danny, there's nothing you can do. I don't know what to tell you, but I'm worried about your performance in this class and I'm worried about you."
"Great, well that doesn't help me, so I'll see you in class, I guess."
And I left.
I took my things, and I turned my back on her. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t help me, and so I would do it myself. I would save my grade, I would save my 4.0, and all would be right in the world again. I left convinced that all I needed to do was work harder to save myself, to prove myself worthy, because clearly, no one else was going to be helping me.
Fast forward: I lost my 4.0 that semester. I lost the perfection that had defined me at school for over 10 years at that point.
You know what happened?
Nothing.
The world kept right on spinning.
No one cut me out of their life.
I didn’t die.
Maybe achievement isn’t all that it’s cracked out to be…
This realization was just the beginning of questioning the achievement-driven mindset that had defined my entire life.
The Achievement Trap: Exposing the Lies That Keep You Running
The promise of achievement is this: give me your time, your energy, your focus, your heart, your mind, your sweat, your blood, and your tears, and I will give you the validation you seek. I will give you the love, the respect, the safety you crave. I will make you everything you ever wanted to be, give you everything you ever desired, secure the love and affection of the people around you. Forever.
Achievement is a liar.
It offers you a contract that says "If I achieve enough, I will finally be worthy." Achievement never had that power. Its pockets are stuffed with monopoly money that, when you finally reach the summit, finally win the award, finally get that trophy you've longed for, burns to ash in your wallet and in your mouth.
"Achievement makes you a mercenary, trading it all for the pursuit of a lie."
Achievement, left unchecked, will have you sell your soul to appease total strangers who will forget about you the second you step down from the podium. While the people who know and love you right now never cared about where you finished the race, they only cared that you did something that mattered to you.
Achievement is a charlatan, selling you quick fix cure-alls that do nothing more than provide 30 seconds of relief, so that when the feel-good feeling disappears, you turn like an addict to the next pursuit, thinking deep down that it didn't work because somehow it was your fault. You didn't deserve the lasting happiness.
I hate to break this to you, but there is no forever happiness. That was never an option.
Research on what psychologists call the "hedonic treadmill" confirms what philosophers have known for centuries—we quickly adapt to both positive and negative changes, returning to our baseline level of happiness regardless of what we achieve. The promotion, the award, the championship—they deliver a brief high, then fade, leaving us starving once more for the next fix.
Why are we so vulnerable to this lie?
Because it's not just in our heads—it's in the water we swim in. From gold stars in kindergarten to standardized tests to college admissions to performance reviews at work, we're indoctrinated and trained to be mercenaries from our earliest days.
This system isn't all bad—I wouldn't be where I am today without it—but it's incomplete. And it leaves many of us hollowed out, wondering why success feels so empty.
To be clear, this isn't about abandoning achievement.
It's about transforming your relationship with it—what I call the "Mercenary to Emissary Shift." This fundamental transformation changes not just what you achieve, but why and how you achieve it.
Think of it this way: a mercenary is a soldier who fights for whoever pays them, while an emissary is an ambassador representing something they believe in. The mercenary achieves to get validation; the emissary achieves representing something bigger than themselves, the belief in something more, something lasting.
I've lived both sides.
My most recent foray into writing publicly again began as a commitment with two friends to publish weekly on LinkedIn. Initially, I wrote pieces I truly believed in, saying things that felt meaningful and authentic. Those pieces were good. I stand by them.
But over time, LinkedIn's professional environment started warping my approach. My writing became extractive, performative—carefully crafted to appear valuable to ‘the market’ rather than true to my voice.
The shift was subtle but profound.
I boxed myself into what I thought people wanted to hear rather than what I needed to say. A little of this adaptation is natural, even necessary. But it's a dirty fuel.
You can burn it. It does work, at least for a little bit.
Eventually it runs out.
So after ramping up to posting five times weekly for six months, I simply... stopped.
In contrast, my work on Substack now comes from a different place. It's about writing what my younger self desperately needed to hear, with no achievement attached beyond the hope it might serve at least one other person. The work itself is the reward, not what it might bring me someday.
That's the game we have to play more often.
Not achieving.
But becoming.
Unveiling.
Revealing.
Your Invisible Armor: How You're Sabotaging Your Own Happiness
When we're caught in the pursuit of validation through achievement, we develop sophisticated patterns of resistance. These patterns keep us busy with the illusion of success but they also protect us from deeper vulnerability and deeper meaning. These same patterns are intelligent strategies that serve a purpose in your life.
In simple terms, resistance is how we protect ourselves from feeling vulnerable. It's the behaviors we develop to avoid facing our deepest fears about our worth and belonging.
Let's look at the common forms this resistance takes:
Perfectionism
Perfectionism isn't about excellence—it's about creating an impenetrable fortress against criticism. It says "If it's perfect, no one can question my worth." You recognize this pattern when you spend hours refining already-good work or feel devastated rather than constructive when receiving feedback. The result? You produce less, risk less, and grow less—all while exhausting yourself.
Productive Procrastination
This is the art of staying monumentally busy with tasks that look important but avoid the truly meaningful work that scares you. You might be using productive procrastination when you organize your desk instead of starting that challenging project or respond to easy emails while postponing difficult conversations. Your calendar is packed, your to-do list checked off, yet somehow the needle never moves on what matters most.
Overcommitment
Taking on too much trades depth for breadth—you're involved in so many responsibilities that you have a built-in excuse for never going deep anywhere. Look for these signs: you say yes to everything then resent the commitments, or your identity becomes tied to "being busy." The sad irony? The volume of work never fills the void of purpose, leaving you even emptier despite your heroic efforts.
Why Your Resistance is Actually Intelligent
Here's the thing about resistance: it's not your enemy. These patterns weren't designed to sabotage you—they were crafted to protect you.
Maybe perfectionism shielded you from criticism in a household where mistakes weren't tolerated. Perhaps overcommitment was your strategy for securing love from parents who only noticed achievement.
These patterns served you once. They helped you survive. They got you this far.
But protection always comes at a cost.
The very strategies that once kept you safe now prevent you from living authentically.
The Achievement Reflection: Seeing Your Patterns
Choose one significant achievement from your life (the degree, the promotion, the major raise) - something you worked hard for and finally attained. With this specific achievement in mind:
What happened next? After reaching this goal, how quickly did you move on to pursuing the next one? Did you truly celebrate, or did the satisfaction evaporate almost immediately?
What were you really seeking? Beyond the achievement itself, what were you hoping to feel or prove? Recognition? Security? Worthiness? Did the achievement deliver what you were truly seeking?
What did it cost? What parts of yourself or your life did you sacrifice to reach this achievement? Consider relationships, health, interests, or aspects of your identity that were set aside.
Take your time with these questions. The insights often emerge not in the first answer, but in the quiet space after you think you've answered.
For me, completing my PhD revealed that I wasn't celebrating achievements because I didn't believe I deserved them - each accomplishment was simply meeting the minimum standard I'd set. The cost was years of relentless self-criticism and isolation. What I was really seeking was indisputable proof of my worth, which no degree could ever provide. And this pattern protected me from the terrifying possibility that I might be ordinary, that I might not be exceptional.
Recognizing this pattern was uncomfortable but liberating. It allowed me to see that my relationship with achievement had become toxic - not because achievement itself is bad, but because of what I was asking it to do for me.
Once you recognize these resistance patterns, a choice emerges: continue as a mercenary burning dirty fuel, or transform into an emissary aligned with deeper purpose.
Choose Your Path: Mercenary Exhaustion or Emissary Fulfillment
The difference between these two paths isn't just philosophical—it's visceral. It shows up in how you feel when you wake up, how you approach challenges, and ultimately, what your life adds up to.
The Mercenary Path: Burning Dirty Fuel
The mercenary serves whoever pays the highest price. External validation, recognition, status, security—these are the currencies they accept. There's nothing inherently wrong with wanting these things. But when they become your primary motivation, you're burning dirty fuel.
A mercenary's life looks like:
Working tirelessly for goals that feel hollow once achieved
Constantly scanning for how others perceive you
Feeling drained even by work you're "good at"
Measuring success primarily through external metrics
Asking "what should I want?" rather than "what do I want?"
"The mercenary path demands constant effort for diminishing returns. The emissary path creates fusion—a little input generates massive output."
This path demands constant effort for diminishing returns. Like a car burning contaminated fuel, you find yourself working harder and harder just to maintain the same speed. You might achieve impressive things, but at what cost? The fuel you're burning slowly pollutes your system, leaving residue of resentment, fatigue, and emptiness.
The Emissary Path: Finding Fusion
An emissary represents something they deeply believe in. They carry a message, embody a value, or serve a purpose that resonates at their core. This connection creates something akin to fusion—a little input generates massive output.
An emissary's life looks like:
Working hard but feeling energized rather than depleted
Finding flow states more frequently and easily
Making decisions from an internal compass rather than external pressure
Creating impact aligned with what matters most to you
Experiencing satisfaction independent of recognition
"When you're aligned with your authentic purpose, work becomes less about effort and more about expression."
When you're aligned with your authentic purpose, work becomes less about effort and more about expression. The challenges don't disappear—they often intensify—but they feel worthwhile rather than burdensome.
One of the clearest signs you've found your emissary path is that energy balance. Work that aligns with your core values, strengths, and unique contribution creates energy rather than consuming it. You still get tired, but it's the good tired of meaningful exertion rather than the soul-sucking exhaustion of misalignment.
Can You Be an Emissary in a Mercenary World?
There's no denying we live in a world that rewards mercenary behavior. The system is designed to measure, quantify, and reward external achievement over internal alignment. Being an emissary carries risks and consequences.
Choosing and representing your mission makes you an outlier. In ancient times, emissaries could be killed for delivering unwanted messages. While you're unlikely to face a Spartan kick into an endless pit, there is still a price to pay—potential rejection, financial uncertainty, or the discomfort of forging your own path.
But consider the alternative—a life spent chasing validation that never arrives, achieving goals that never satisfy, accumulating credentials that never fill the void.
What makes the emissary path worth it is a life of meaning and purpose. It's about being able to die at peace with the mark you left on the world because you made your own meaning rather than accepting someone else's definition of success.
The irony? Many who choose the emissary path end up achieving remarkable things—not because they're chasing achievement, but because authentic purpose unleashes potential that mercenary motivation never could.
The world needs both paths. We need doctors who study medicine because it pays well, and we need doctors who practice because they can't imagine doing anything else. But only one of these paths leads to a life you won't regret.
So ask yourself: Are you a mercenary fighting for someone else's cause, or an emissary representing what truly matters to you?
"But Isn't This Just Privilege?"
Some might argue that focusing on meaning and fulfillment is a luxury for those who've already achieved financial security. There's truth here—it's easier to pursue purpose when basic needs are met.
But this isn't an either/or proposition.
The emissary mindset doesn't require abandoning practical concerns. Rather, it changes your relationship to them. You can pursue financial stability while being conscious of why you're doing it and how it connects to your deeper values. Many people find that authentic alignment actually enhances their material success rather than diminishing it.
The real privilege is awareness—understanding the water you're swimming in. This awareness is available regardless of your circumstances, though how you express it will naturally vary based on your situation.
Liberation: Turning Resistance into Fuel for Change
Death as the Ultimate Clarifier
Nothing cuts through noise quite like contemplating your impending doom as a mortal being. When I find myself caught in achievement loops, I turn to three powerful perspective-shifting practices on my own mortality:
The Eulogy Exercise: Write your own eulogy as if you died today. Then write the one you hope people would read if you lived aligned with what truly matters to you. The gap between these two reveals where mercenary thinking has led you astray from what you genuinely value.
Futurecasting: This is usually one of the first things I do with my coaching clients. Fast-forward to age 80. What are you doing on a Tuesday? A Saturday? Who’s around? Who’s missing? What matters to 80 year old you?
From that vantage point, what would you tell your current self about how you're spending your limited time? Which achievements would still matter? Which relationships would you wish you'd prioritized?Memento Mori: The ancient practice of remembering we'll die isn't morbid—it's clarifying. Keep a physical reminder of mortality (a quote, an object) where you'll see it daily. This continuous reminder strips away the promise of success games that don’t matter and reveals what actually deserves your energy. (Hint: It’s never an email).
These practices aren't just philosophical—they're practical resets. They reveal the truth: the mercenary path pursues validation that ultimately means nothing in the face of our finite existence.
The Emotional Battlefield
The most challenging part of this transformation isn't intellectual understanding—it's navigating the emotions that arise when you try to change.
When you first step off the mercenary path, expect to feel:
Fear: What if I'm not enough without my achievements?
Grief: Mourning the identity you're letting go of
Confusion: Without external metrics, how do I know I'm "doing well"?
Unworthiness: The voice that says you don't deserve joy unless you earn it
These emotions aren't weakness—they're evidence you're dismantling the very structure that's been organizing your life. This is where working with a therapist or coach can accelerate your journey. Someone who can ask the questions you can't yet ask yourself:
"What would happen if you were enough exactly as you are?"
"What would you do if you weren't afraid?"
"What would your inner child want for you right now?"
I needed someone (like my amazing leadership coach, Lauren Borden) to help me see how often I set impossible standards for myself, then brutally self-criticized when I inevitably fell short. Through the questions she asked, I realized I was stacking the deck against myself, then berating myself for losing a rigged game—like setting a goal to become a NYT bestseller by 35, and then treating myself like I'd failed at life when it didn't happen. Not all of us can be my former boss, Mark Manson. And that's fucking fine!
Practical Tools for Transformation
This shift isn't about abandoning achievement—it's about changing your relationship with it. Here are tools to begin that process:
From Extrinsic to Intrinsic Motivation: As Naval Ravikant suggests, "The reason to win the game is to be free of it." The ultimate transformation isn't abandoning achievement altogether, but shifting why you achieve. When you operate as an emissary, your accomplishments become expressions of your authentic self rather than attempts to prove your worth. Success becomes a milestone along a path of self-realization, rather than the sole, ultimately unfulfilling, goal. This shift transforms achievement from something you chase for validation to something that naturally flows from who you are.
The Childhood Reconnection: As Robert Greene suggests in Mastery, recall what absorbed you as a child before external expectations clouded your natural inclinations. What activities made you lose track of time? What were you doing when you felt most alive?
The Worthwhile Trade-Off: Oliver Burkeman reminds us in Four Thousand Weeks that we have limited time. The question isn't "Can I fit this in?" but "Is this worth giving up something else?" This clarity around the trade offs we are willing to accept (or not) in our lives helps identify where our energy truly belongs.
Experimental Living: Identify people whose lives contain elements that resonate with you. What specifically do they do that calls to you? Design small experiments to try these elements in your own life without full commitment. Ask yourself questions like, "How could I enjoy this moment 10% more?" Treat your life as a series of enlightening experiments rather than permanent decisions.
Self-Understanding Over Self-Improvement: True transformation doesn't come from "fixing" yourself into someone worthy of love and respect. As Coach Joe Hudson emphasizes, it comes from understanding yourself deeply enough to recognize the worthiness that was always there. When you flip from self-improvement to self-understanding, you stop treating yourself as a problem to be solved and start approaching yourself with genuine curiosity. This shift alone often dissolves many of the resistance patterns that kept you trapped in mercenary mode.
The Practice of Noticing
Ultimately, this transformation is a practice of noticing—developing awareness of:
Where you feel alive versus empty
When you're acting from alignment versus seeking validation
How your body feels when you're in mercenary versus emissary mode
What stories you tell yourself about your worth and its connection to achievement
This noticing creates the gap between stimulus and response where your power to choose differently lives. It's not about perfection—it's about catching yourself earlier and earlier in the mercenary patterns, then making a different choice.
"The emissary path isn't about abandoning ambition—it's about ensuring your ambition serves something deeper than validation."
The emissary path isn't about abandoning ambition—it's about ensuring your ambition serves something deeper than validation. It's about creating from fullness rather than lack, about contribution rather than extraction.
Create Your World
Perhaps the most compelling reason to make this shift is captured in Joe Hudson's insight:
"If you're not being yourself, then the world you create is not for you."
When you operate as a mercenary, constantly shaping yourself to meet external expectations, you build a life that fits someone you're pretending to be. No wonder it never feels right. The emissary path allows you to create a world aligned with who you truly are—not the person you think you should be.
This is how you build a life that actually feels like home.
Living as an Emissary: Real-World Examples of Transformation
This transformation from mercenary to emissary isn't just a philosophical shift—it's a practical one that shows up in how you spend your time, energy, and attention. The emissary path is marked by curiosity, meaning, and intentional challenge rather than the constant validation-seeking of the mercenary.
These tools for transformation aren't just theoretical—they manifest in practical, everyday choices. Here's what this looks like in real life:
The Creator Without a Deadline
For years, I pushed creative writing aside because it didn't immediately contribute to my "important work." It wasn't until I started waking up an hour earlier on weekends to write at a local café that I discovered what it felt like to create simply because something in me needed expression. No publisher waiting, no audience expecting delivery—just the quiet joy of putting words on a page that felt true.
What makes this emissary behavior? It's driven by internal alignment rather than external validation. The pleasure comes from the activity itself, not from what others might think of it.
The Curious Colleague
One of my coaching clients transformed her work experience by setting up weekly coffee meetings with people across her organization—not to network or advance her career, but simply to understand their perspectives on topics she found interesting.
"I used to avoid these conversations unless they directly benefited a project I was working on," she told me. "Now I realize how much richness I was missing by treating relationships as purely transactional."
What began as pure curiosity evolved into some of the most meaningful connections in her professional life—connections that eventually led to collaborative projects she never would have envisioned.
The Co-Learning Commitment
When I’m working on a course or reading a nonfiction book, I regularly set up a recurring Zoom call or weekly text message with a friend to work through and share the concepts that intrigued us—no achievement targets, just mutual accountability for showing up to explore ideas together. In different pairings, I’ve alternated choosing topics, from happiness to creativity, with no agenda beyond following my curiosity with a friend, and deepening our relationship as a result.
The DIY Retreat
Instead of waiting for the perfect workshop or retreat to attend, you can pull together a group of friends to create your own annual gathering. The easiest agenda to build is each person brings a challenge they're navigating for the group to help think through, along with something to teach everyone else—a skill, concept, or practice they find meaningful. Throw in some good meals, attending a show, probably a hard workout or two, and you will have one of the most powerful weekends of your year.
In our group, these retreats or ‘masterminds’ have evolved into spaces for authentic connection and growth, free from the achievement metrics that typically govern and infiltrate professional development events.
What all these examples share is agency expressed through curiosity, play, and meaningful engagement rather than achievement as the end all, be all. Whether carving out small pockets of time (a weekend morning, a lunch break) or creating larger commitments (weekly calls, annual retreats), the emissary finds ways to prioritize alignment over validation.
The key insight? When we engage in activities with no external reward—purely for the experience itself—we directly challenge the mercenary belief that our worth comes from our output.
Look at your calendar right now. Where could you create small openings for curiosity, play, or meaning without attachment to outcome?
You have agency here. Whether it's in the small spaces (the podcasts you choose to explore) or the larger commitments (hours blocked for creative practice), you get to decide what matters. And increasingly, as you practice the emissary path, what matters will be determined by your own internal alignment, the compass you create uniquely built for your life.
Recognizing these patterns and knowing what to change is just the beginning. The challenging part—and the most rewarding—is actually making this transformation stick.
The Journey Home: Your Invitation to Authentic Achievement
If parts of this article have felt like someone reached into your head and articulated thoughts you've had but couldn't quite name, you're not alone. The mercenary mindset is particularly common among high-performers, especially those who Brit turned modern philosopher Chris Williamson calls insecure overachievers.
But recognition is just the first step. The journey from mercenary to emissary isn't one you have to navigate alone.
The Blindspots We All Have
As I've walked this path myself, I've learned that our resistance patterns are often invisible to us. Like fish unaware of the water they swim in, we can't always see the ways we've been conditioned to equate achievement with worth.
This work often requires an outside perspective—someone who can shine a light on the patterns we can't see on our own and ask the questions we don't think to ask ourselves. This is where coaching becomes invaluable.
The Structured Path Forward
For those ready to make this transformation real, I offer two ways to work together:
Seeking Wisdom: You’re reading it right now. Every two weeks, receive practical insights and exercises to help make this shift from mercenary to emissary thinking. It's free, and you can subscribe below or share with someone who might find it useful.
1:1 Coaching: For those seeking comprehensive support, my 3-month coaching program provides personalized guidance through this transformation. We'll work together to dismantle your resistance patterns and design a life aligned with your authentic purpose. Read more below.
Whether or not we end up working together, remember this: You are already worthy, regardless of what you achieve. Your value isn't tied to your performance. And it is possible to create a life of meaningful contribution without sacrificing your entire wellbeing on the altar of achievement.
"Creating from fullness rather than lack, focusing on contribution rather than extraction."
The journey from mercenary to emissary isn't always easy, but it might be the most important work you ever do.
It's how you build a life that actually feels like home.
Introducing 1:1 Coaching for High-Performers
I work with a limited number of clients who are ready to transform their relationship with achievement—to shift from being mercenaries at war with themselves to emissaries aligned with their deeper purpose.
This coaching isn't about abandoning your ambition. It's about ensuring your ambition serves something deeper than validation.
Together, we'll:
Identify your specific resistance patterns and how they've served you until now
Develop awareness practices to catch yourself in mercenary thinking
Create experiments to explore what truly brings you alive
Design sustainable structures that support your emissary path
Navigate the emotional terrain of this transformation with compassion
Who This Is For
This work is specifically designed for high-achievers who:
Have a track record of external success but struggle with internal fulfillment
Recognize the mercenary patterns in their approach to achievement
Are ready to transform their relationship with productivity, worth, and success
Want to maintain excellence without sacrificing wellbeing
Are willing to experiment with new ways of showing up in their work and life
This isn't for everyone. If you're looking for quick productivity hacks or ways to squeeze more achievement into less time, there are plenty of other resources available. This work goes deeper—addressing the root patterns that keep you trapped in cycles of achievement without fulfillment.
The Next Step
If you're ready to explore whether coaching might be the right next step for you, I invite you to apply for a discovery call. During this conversation, we'll:
Discuss your specific situation and goals
Determine whether we're a good fit to work together
Answer any questions you have about the coaching process
I'm selective about who I work with, not because I'm looking for perfect clients, but because I want to ensure I can genuinely help you transform your relationship with achievement.
This article truly spoke to me—it felt like it was written specifically for my experience. The need to accomplish something more consumed me, yet I couldn’t define what that meant until I read the article. I pushed myself, believing that every moment spent relaxing, reading, or listening to music was time wasted. I was chasing an undefined goal, striving for something I couldn’t pinpoint. And despite my efforts, achievements no longer felt meaningful without external validation from my bosses.
Thank you for sharing this piece. It has given me much-needed clarity and reassurance, and I appreciate it immensely.
This article hits different!
It’s like a war story from the frontlines of high-achiever burnout, written with the clarity of someone who barely made it out but is determined to help others find a better way.
There’s a stillness in your writing that makes me feel like I’m not just reading — I’m being read. The way you captured the intrinsic negotiations we have with ourselves before we act (or don’t) was both acutely sharp and deeply human.
I explore similar questions through a more systems-thinking lens, but reading this reminded me that clarity isn’t always a product of structure. Sometimes it’s born from stillness.
Subscribed, and looking forward to reading more of your work. Cheers!