A note from Paul: Your Hey Penguin 2020 Sendoff

Possibility means patience.

Hey, it’s Paul.

Only text in this issue. Writing today because this Sunday is January 3rd, and on January 3rd, nobody will want to read another article mentioning the number two thousand and twenty.

But you love text, right? You’re like a text tyrannosaurus rex, always stomping around in search of the best texts this side of the Internet Super Highway.

First, thanks so much for reading this newsletter every week. I still have no clue what I want this newsletter to be about since I write everyday on my blog. If I’m writing everyday on my blog, what’s the point of writing a newsletter? I’m still trying to figure out how to deliver the most value I can with a weekly newsletter. I’ve tried promoting my newest content through the newsletter, but that’s a ton of repetitive work with very diminishing returns. As for the future of this newsletter, who knows if I’ll continue writing it.

But I know I’ll continue writing because I love writing.

And I know I’ll continue hosting the podcast because I love doing it.

And I know I’ll continue to make stuff because I’m addicted to making stuff.

And, most importantly, I’ll keep showing up with the best version of myself possible because that’s what you deserve — only the best.

2020 was a year.

A year in which I decided to quit my job at a grocery store to pursue God Knows What full time. That’s what it felt like. God Knows What. Oh My God What in God’s Name Am I Going To Do?

God’s supposed to know everything, but even He didn’t know what the hell I was doing, quitting a steady job without much of a stopgap between me and total financial ruin.

Paul what in God’s name are you doing
- God

I’ve been chronically nonchalant my whole life. I barely graduated high-school. I sat in the back of the class - in every class - with my head down, headphones in, with In The Aeroplane Over The Sea blasting in my ears as I daydream about going home to play Runescape for 9 hours. And then I’d go home and play Runescape for 9 hours while listening to In The Aeroplane Over The Sea.

2020 was the year in which I decided I might as well take full advantage of myself before I contract some deadly virus, or at least before they release the seventh minions movie. 2020 was the year in which I decided to take ownership. Extreme Ownership. Okay I’m not at that level of Ownership yet, but damn is that a good book. I woke up this morning at 4:30 am, knocked out a workout, wrote a blog post, started this newsletter, and began revamping my LinkedIn page. All before my girlfriend wakes up to (hopefully) agree to grab a cup of coffee with me. Contrast this with my previous habit of going to sleep at 6 in the morning, waking up at 3 pm, and playing Runescape for 9 hours.

Alright, let’s cut the autobiographical bullshit. Time to get philosophical.

This is the most important lesson I learned in 2020.

When you reorganize your hierarchy of values, you become a completely different person.

But you never lose the memory of who you were before. Unless you get like, Alzheimer’s or something.

In 2020 I placed possibility near the top of my hierarchy of values (I’d share with you my hierarchy of values, but that’s intellectual property.) Possibility requires you to be patient. Possibility means you’re proactive. Idle, but not lazy. Moving, but not hurrying. Possibility means being open to the opportunities that will come your way when you allow yourself to be who you’ve always been. And who you’ve always been is buried underneath all your doubt and insecurity.

Alright, that’s enough philosophy.

I think it’s time we blow this scene.

Get everybody and the stuff together.

Okay 3, 2, 1

Let’s jam.

See you in 2021.