After that bit of work I spent the rest of my time hiking, kayaking, fly fishing—oh by the way I was volunteering at a summer camp 🏕️ Not a bad gig!

But one of the things I journaled about was how there’s a difference between maintenance work and momentum work. Because for those days in the mountains I realized I could do most of my client work in just a few hours a day spend the rest of the day helping at camp and having fun with the other kids.

I kept tinkering with the idea and came up with the concept of the Momentum Matrix—and that’s what we’re going to talk about today.

So you’ve probably heard of the Eisenhower Matrix—a 2x2 grid that splits work into Urgent/Not and Important/Not. This is a helpful guide for task triage, deciding what is Urgent and Important then tackling those tasks first.

The problem is the Eisenhower Matrix isn’t great for understanding the direction your tasks were taking you in, or if they contributed to a larger project/goal. Personally, I started to get frustrated with this guide doing client work because everything felt (and usually was) urgent and important.

The more I did that work, the further I got from where my OMG Goals [1] and WRAP Reviews [2] kept telling me was important—making better YouTube videos and being a Creator, not just an Operator for other people.

See, Maintenance Work is what I need to do to keep the bills paid, clients and customers happy, and provide for my family. It’s good work for good money, but it’s not what I want to still be doing in 5-10 years.

Then I have Momentum Work. This includes consistent YouTube videos, figuring out Reels, writing newsletters, trying ads, and more. It’s not paying as well as client work (for now), but when I let it slide for too long I lose momentum.

There’s one risk and one big challenge with sticking to Maintenance Work—even if it’s comfortable and profitable.

The risk is that I’m staying busy and productive… but kinda stuck. The business grows a bit each year, but for it to really scale I need to hire and spend more time on business development. I did that 3 years ago and didn’t like it.

The challenge with Momentum Work is that it doesn’t demand anything from me. Maintenance Work does in the form of emails, Slack messages, launch dates, and deadlines. Momentum Work has to be prioritized, acted upon, and published without anyone pushing you to do it.

So that’s how I’m thinking about my work for the rest of the year. When I look at a task or project, I ask one question: is this keeping everything running (Maintenance), or building the life I actually want (Momentum)?

Both matter, but only one of them gets me closer to being a full-time Creator instead of an Operator. And that tells me whether I’m protecting [3] enough time for YouTube, newsletters, and the work that can eventually flip my business from client focused to content focused.

I’m working on a video about this to explain it in more detail. There’s a second half of the matrix—Tasks and Projects—that shows whether the work you’re doing is a one-off or building toward something bigger. That’s the part I’ll break down in the video.

In the meantime, if you read this and something clicked for you—please comment and let me know!

Additional Resources

1. Learn more about OMG Goal Setting.

2. Learn more about WRAP Reviews.

3. Protecting is the “P” in the GAP Method.

He’s analog, fast—and surprisingly prolific.

Altman, founder of OpenAI (i.e. ChatGPT) uses a spiral-bound notebook. He jots quick ideas, then rips out the pages, processes each idea, then crumples up each page onto the floor.

His goal? Think clearly, act quickly, and move on.

It’s a system that works for him. Altman has figured out that speed and disposability serve his workflow. Every few weeks, his entire notebook ends up on the floor in a pile of crumpled thoughts.

He understands the point of analog isn’t perfection—it’s clarity. He doesn’t want to archive thoughts; he wants to use them now and let them go.

In this video on ’s How I Write show, Sam explains how his notebooks are a scratch pad for action.

A System for Connecting Ideas Over Time

The beauty of analog is that it bends to fit your needs. While Sam optimizes for quick thinking and immediate action, I’ve developed a different approach focused on building connections over time.

Every morning, I start with my notebook—before I touch any digital tool. I use it as a buffer to clear my head, set my priorities, and capture anything pulling at my attention.

Writing by hand slows me down enough to think clearly. The pause helps me choose action over distraction. Instead of tearing pages out and crumpling them on the floor, I break the best ideas into smaller, reusable pieces.

If something stands out while I’m reading or thinking, I’ll capture it quickly—then decide later if it’s worth turning into something more durable. That’s where index cards come in.

The Value of Keeping What You Capture

That’s the biggest difference between Sam Altman’s approach and mine.

While he rips pages to rearrange his thinking, I make space to revisit my notes.

Flipping through old notebooks provides a value well beyond pages of ideas.

Dan Sullivan talks about two ways to measure progress: “the gap” and “the gain.” The gap is the distance between where you are and where you want to be. The gain is how far you’ve come.

Old notebooks provide evidence of who you once were and what you have aspired to become. My notebooks are proof of progress.

→ Want to see how I use index cards in practice? Here’s a short video that walks through it.

There’s no single “right way” to take notes.

Sam Altman uses notebooks as disposable tools. I treat mine like a personal library of building blocks—where ideas evolve over time.

You don’t have to take notes like Sam Altman or me. Either way, analog helps you think clearly. The right system helps you return to what matters—again and again.

Do you cringe just a little bit at the idea of tearing pages out of your notebook? Or are you eyeing the special Field Notes Steno? Drop a comment and let me know. I do read every note one.

Matt “No Note Left Behind” Ragland

And then you try to get back in, but you can’t. The momentum is gone. You’re sitting at the same desk, looking at the same screen, but the person who was crushing it twenty minutes ago has been replaced by someone who can’t remember what they were doing or why it mattered.

This used to happen to me almost every day. And I blamed myself for it. I thought it was a discipline problem, or a focus problem, or that I needed a better app to keep me on track. I tried timers. I tried website blockers. I tried just powering through it. None of it worked, at least not for long.

Then I learned about something called attention residue.1

Researchers use this term to describe what happens when you switch between tasks. Part of your brain doesn’t actually make the switch. It’s still processing the old thing, whether that is composing the email you just read, replaying the conversation you just had, running the numbers from that spreadsheet you closed. You’re physically starting something new, but mentally you’re still finishing something old.

This is why the afternoon feels so much harder than the morning. It’s not that you’re tired (though you might be). It’s that you’ve been accumulating attention residue all day. Every switch—email to writing, Slack to deep work, phone check to real thinking—leaves a little more gunk on the lens. By two o’clock, you’re looking at your work through a dirty windshield.

The standard advice is to stop switching. Batch your tasks. Do deep work in long uninterrupted blocks. And look, that’s good advice. I believe in it. But it’s also not how most of our days actually work. You get a text from your kid’s school. A client sends a question that’s genuinely urgent. Your co-founder needs a five-minute decision. Life doesn’t respect your focus blocks.

So I stopped trying to eliminate the switches and started trying to make them cleaner.

The fix is so small it almost feels like a joke. Between tasks—any time I finish one thing and start another—I write three things in a pocket notebook:

1. A timestamp

2. What I just finished

3. What I’m about to start

That’s it. Fifteen seconds. Sometimes I add a sentence about how I’m feeling or what my energy is like, which pushes it to maybe thirty seconds. But the core practice is three lines.

The term for this is interstitial journaling. “Interstitial” just means “in the spaces between.” And that’s exactly where it lives—in the seams between tasks, in the transitions where your focus normally leaks out.

Those fifteen seconds do something your brain can’t do on its own: they create closure. When you write down “finished the blog draft,” your brain gets a signal that it can stop processing the blog draft. When you write “starting the email sequence,” your brain gets a nudge that this is the new thing now. It’s a clean handoff instead of a messy overlap.

I keep a Field Notes in reach all day for this. Not my bullet journal—that’s for bigger planning. A pocket notebook that doesn’t feel precious. The messier, the better.

Here’s where it gets interesting. After a week of this, you have something you didn’t expect: a complete, honest record of how you actually spent your time.

Not your calendar, which shows what you planned to do. Not your task manager, which shows what you hoped to do. Your actual day, stitched together in little entries, showing what you really did and how you felt while you did it.

I grew up playing sports, and the thing that separated the good players from the great ones wasn’t just practice. It was film study. After every game, we’d sit in a room and watch the tape. The coach would stop it mid-play: See that angle? That’s wrong. See how you hesitated? That cost you.

It was uncomfortable. Nobody wants to watch themselves make mistakes in slow motion. But it was the only way to actually see what was happening instead of guessing.

Your interstitial journal is game film for your workday.

When I looked at my first week of entries, I noticed things I’d been blind to. Like the fact that I consistently lost forty-five minutes after checking email mid-morning. It wasn’t because I spent forty-five minutes on email, but because I couldn’t get my focus back after. Or that my best creative work always happened before 10 a.m., and I was wasting that window on administrative tasks because they “felt” urgent.

Tough to see. But now I could coach myself instead of just hoping the next day would be different.

There’s one more thing this practice does that I didn’t expect.

Ernest Hemingway had a famous habit of stopping his daily writing mid-sentence. Not at the end of a chapter, not at a natural break… right in the middle of a thought. That way, when he sat down the next morning, he knew exactly where to pick up. No staring at a blank page. No trying to remember the thread.

The end-of-day interstitial entry works the same way. When I wrap up work, I take sixty seconds—a little longer than the between-task entries —and write down where I am. What I was focused on. What the next step would be. How I’m feeling about the project.

The next morning, I open the notebook and I’m back in it immediately. Minimal warm-up period. No twenty minutes of re-reading notes and trying to remember my train of thought. The notebook holds the thread so my brain doesn’t have to.

This matters more than it seems, because the hardest part of most work sessions isn’t the middle, it’s the start. And we make starting harder than it needs to be by closing the loop too cleanly the day before. Leave yourself a thread to pull.

A few things I’ve learned doing this for a while:

Not every transition needs an entry. If you’re moving from one tab to another within the same project, you don’t need to stop and write. The practice is for real context switches, the moments where the topic or the type of thinking actually changes. If you’re forcing it, pull back.

The major transitions matter most. I spend a little more time on the entries around lunch and at the end of the day. Before lunch, I capture where my head is so I can pick up the thread in the afternoon. At end of day, I capture the state of everything so tomorrow morning is a clean start. Those two entries—maybe ninety seconds total—do a lot of the heavy lifting.

Keep it messy. The moment this starts feeling like a formal journaling practice, you’ll stop doing it. No headers, no structure, no color coding. A timestamp and a few words. That’s the whole thing.

And most important! You don’t need anything new for this. No app, no system, no subscription. A pocket notebook and a pen. Fifteen seconds between tasks. It’s almost stupid simple, like tying your shoes. But it can change how your entire day feels.

I think the reason most productivity advice doesn’t stick is that it asks you to overhaul your whole system. New app, new workflow, new morning routine. This isn’t that. This is one tiny habit that slots into the cracks of your existing day and quietly makes everything work a little better.

Start tomorrow morning. First timestamp of the day. A few tasks you want to focus on. Then keep going—one entry at a time, fifteen seconds at a time. I think you’ll be surprised at how much clarity just a few sentences throughout the day can bring to how you work and how you live.

Matt

I love bookstores, but that’s not big news. The revelation is why I love bookstores, and why that reason matters more now than it ever has.

Here’s what I don’t like about buying books on Amazon or Audible: the algorithm knows you. It knows what you bought, what you browsed, what you almost bought at 11pm and then closed the tab. And it serves you more of the same. “Because you purchased Ego Is the Enemy, you might also like...” And sure, a lot of times that’s useful. If I’m interested in one thing and other people who are interested in that thing also bought another thing, there’s a decent chance I’ll like it too.

But here’s what personalization doesn’t do: it removes the serendipity.

When I’m walking through a bookstore, I see things that catch my eye that would never show up on a recommended page. And that discovery, that sense of stumbling into something you didn’t know you needed, is my favorite part of being in a physical bookstore. It’s the value that a bookstore has that no algorithm can replicate.

The Painted Porch has that in spades.

If you’re ever in the Austin area, The Painted Porch is about 30-40 minutes outside of town in Bastrop, depending on traffic. It is worth the drive. It’s beautiful, well-organized, and it has this energy that makes you want to slow down and just look at things. Which is kinda the whole point.

The Book Chimney

No trip to the Painted Porch is complete without seeing the Book Chimney. There’s a plaque right there that tells you everything: 2,000 books, 17 feet tall, 4,000 screws, 6 gallons of glue, and it weighs 19,000 pounds. It is something.

My favorite thing is when people come in and try to yank the books out. The six gallons of glue have something to say about that.

I heard Ryan talk about how they put the most popular books at eye level, and as you look up, it’s more and more obscure titles. Way up at the top? How to Cook Everything. A little closer to eye level? The Obstacle Is the Way. Less obscure.

Here’s what I love about the chimney beyond just being an incredible visual: it’s remarkable in the Seth Godin sense. Not just great, but worth remarking on.

If you’re building a space, a shop, a website, anything—have something that people want to see. Not everything needs to be Instagram’d, but if you have something that makes people want to come in just to look at it, I guarantee they’re going to buy something while they’re there. The Book Chimney does that. Even if you weren’t planning to buy a book, you’d come see it. And then you’re going to leave with a book or two.

My Book Haul

The Son by Philipp Meyer

If you liked the show Yellowstone when it was good — and you know what I mean by when it was good — then you’re going to love The Son. It’s that kind of sweeping, gritty, multigenerational Texas saga. Pick it up.

Poems and Prayers by Matthew McConaughey

I really liked Greenlights too, and it’s right there on the wall at the Painted Porch. But Poems and Prayers is a different thing. I’m not going to say McConaughey is Wendell Berry-esque, but there’s something going on there. I appreciate the guy’s talent and that he’s willing to do the work to make a good book. When you’re McConaughey, you can kind of do whatever you want. All right, all right, all right. Things are going well. But he went through the editing, did the work, and put something out there that’s worth sharing with other people.

One that stuck with me:

“Solo man, respect family. See everyone as someone’s child, sibling, and parent. Respect them as such, and love thy neighbor as thyself.”

These are short, easy-to-read poems and prayers. If you’re looking for something to give your mind, body, and soul a nice little boost without scrolling through your phone, this is one I’d keep by your desk or by your bed. Something you can flip through and get some goodness out of.

Gold by Rumi

This is exactly the kind of discovery I’m talking about. I haven’t read Rumi in years, and I don’t know if Amazon would ever recommend Rumi to me based on what I’ve been buying there. But walking through the Painted Porch, there he was. The Sufi mystic poet himself.

If you’ve never read Rumi, Gold is a great place to start. The Essential Rumi is also excellent. The translation does matter, so pay attention to who’s translating.

I can’t not share this one:

“Don’t think. Quit pouring thoughts like kerosene on everything fresh and green, burning it to the root. Be a fool drunk on love. Soaked in awe till dry reeds are sweet as sugar cane. A lion leaps out of his cage. A man leaps out of his mind. Bravery is delicious. Some madness.”

Come on. Get you some Rumi in your life.

Ryan Holiday’s Books

Being in Ryan’s bookstore, I’d be remiss not to recommend a few of his. Here’s the rundown:

Wisdom Takes Work

This is Ryan’s newest book, and it’s excellent. I’ve been going through it on my Kindle. Wisdom is probably the most difficult virtue to consistently grasp. Courage is one thing. Discipline is another. Good character. These are things you can take action on. They’re more tangible — right in front of your face. Are you disciplined? Do you have courage? You still need to cultivate them, but you can kind of see them.

Wisdom is something that takes a lifetime, and it’s something you can never lose sight of or you’ll start slipping into fool territory. (And yes, I know I just quoted Rumi saying “be a fool” — maybe there’s a time and place. Wisdom balanced with the ability to be a fool in some instances. That’s the trick.) Any of the books in Ryan’s Stoic Virtue series are worth reading.

Conspiracy

I’ve mentioned this one in years past, but I have to say it again: Conspiracy is one of my favorite books of all time. It’s the real investigative reporting of the Peter Thiel / Gawker / Hulk Hogan lawsuit case story. It’s fascinating. It’s a page-turner. It reads like a novel, very fast-paced. Probably my favorite book Ryan has written. If you haven’t read it, it’s a must.

Ego Is the Enemy

Of his more famous earlier work — The Obstacle Is the Way, Ego Is the Enemy, and Stillness Is the Key — Ego Is the Enemy is my favorite. It’s something that’s really easy to forget about. It’s easy to let our ego get in the way. Our ego wants to protect us. Our ego also wants to be the best. Sometimes there’s a bit of ego that’s healthy, but all too often it just pushes and wants it all. If you can take a step back and think, “Is this thing I’m putting in front of everything else actually in service to my ego and not in service to others or the greater good?” — this is the book that shows you that.

The Kids Section

The Painted Porch also has an awesome kids section. Tons of great books and recommendations. The team there gave my family Butt or Face, which is... exactly what you think it would be. There’s also a nice little reading nook — I don’t know if I could fit in it, but for the little ones? They can snuggle up with a book and a stuffy while you’re browsing. Great space for the kiddos.

Thirty minutes east of Austin, in Bastrop, Texas. That’s where you’ll find the Painted Porch. It’s beautiful. It’s well-organized. And it has a sense of serendipity and discovery that you just don’t find when you’re looking for books online.

While you’re there, check out Tracy’s Grocery too—it’s just half a mile around the corner. Cool old-school grocery store with some modern snacks. Good beef jerky. I don’t know why I brought up beef jerky specifically, but it’s a cool spot.

Go to Bastrop. Visit the Painted Porch. Let yourself discover something you didn’t know you were looking for.

That’s kind of the whole point.

Matt.

If you enjoyed this, share it with someone who loves bookstores — or someone who needs to get off the algorithm for a minute. And if you’re not subscribed yet, hit that subscribe button so you don’t miss the next one.

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That’s what happened to me with two of my favorite shows from the last year: A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms and Shoresy.

If you watched the trailers, they couldn’t be more different. One is a medieval fantasy and the other is set in a small town in northern Ontario. Although one could argue that with the ridiculous amount of hot girls in Sudbury, it is also set in a fantasy world, but I digress.

Neither show is about anything the world would call important.

Ser Duncan the Tall is a hedge knight—a nobody from nowhere, no great house behind him, no reference letter to prove he even has the right to call himself a knight. And Shoresy is just a 40-year-old senior club hockey player who has trouble giving up his dreams of hockey glory and makes ends meet by reffing junior hockey.

No dragons. No gold medals. No speeches that change the course of history.

But every week I’m hustling to get the kids in bed so I can watch the new episode right when it drops, on the edge of my seat the entire show, and wishing the next one was already here.

That’s the thing about these shows. The stakes aren’t low — they’re just local. The stakes are high to the people living them. Ser Duncan needs to win this tournament because it’s the only option he has left. Shoresy needs this season because it might be his last real shot at something he’s loved his whole life. And watching them fight for that—watching them care so much about something the rest of the world would shrug at—made me think about my life in a way that most big-budget television doesn’t.

Because most of us aren’t running empires or playing in front of 100,000 fans. We’re applying for jobs and hoping someone takes a chance on us. We’re hitting publish on something we wrote and wondering if anyone will care. We’re deciding whether to stop and help a stranger, whether to show up for a friend, whether to do the harder and more honest thing when the easier and more profitable thing is right there.

Those moments feel small from the outside. From the inside, they’re everything.

What A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms and Shoresy argue is that the size of your stage has nothing to do with the size of your character. Ser Duncan doesn’t become worth rooting for because he matters to Westeros (at least not yet). He becomes worth rooting for because of how he treats the people around him, the honor he has and the choices he makes when no one important is watching. Shoresy isn’t worth rooting for because he’s trying to close on Laura Mohr, he becomes worth rooting for because we’ve all tried like hell to get everything we want out of “little” lives.

That’s the story most of us are actually living. Not the grand one. The one right in front of us. And it turns out that’s the one worth telling.

Quick note: Shoresy isn’t for everyone. If you don’t like the Pilot, it’s not changing. Just a heads up.

This started because I felt discouraged because I wasn’t “the best” at any one thing. But then I read about this “talent stack” concept from the late Scott Adams.

In his book How to Fail at Everything and Still Win Big, Adams introduced an idea he calls the “talent stack.” He explains that he’s not the world’s best cartoonist, not the funniest person, and not the leading expert on corporate culture.

But when you combine those skills—being pretty funny, a good cartoonist, and understanding office politics—he becomes the best in the world at making funny cartoons that parody corporate culture.

This idea is exciting because it means you don’t need to be the absolute best at anything. You just need to find the right combination of skills that, when stacked together, create unique value.

And I think this idea has never been more important than it is right now.

My Talent Stack

Here’s how this plays out in my own work. I’m not the best YouTuber. I’m not the top email marketer. I’m not the leading course creator. I’m not the most well-known productivity teacher.

But combine these skills, and I’m among the best at understanding how YouTube drives newsletter growth and using email marketing to consistently sell digital courses.

That combination didn’t come from a grand plan. It came from years of doing the work, learning one skill at a time, and then waking up one morning realizing that all these things I’d picked up along the way had quietly stacked into something nobody else could replicate.

The same principle applies to life outside business. I may not be the world’s best dad, the most fit person, or the most successful entrepreneur. But I am in the top 5–10% of guys who balance fatherhood, fitness, marriage, and a profitable business… while having multiple kids.

This unique combination lets me speak with real confidence and experience about what it takes to stay healthy, keep a strong marriage, and build a business without burning out, getting divorced, or letting yourself go.

None of those things alone would be remarkable. Stacked together, they create a perspective that’s hard to find anywhere else.

The AI Plot Twist

Here’s where this gets interesting. And honestly, where my thinking on talent stacking has evolved the most in the past year.

We are living through one of the biggest skill-accessibility shifts in history. Tools like AI coding assistants, ChatGPT, and dozens of other AI-powered platforms have dramatically lowered the barrier to learning new skills. And this changes the talent stack game in a profound way.

Six weeks ago, I didn’t think I could build a working web application. I’m not a coder. I’ve never taken a computer science class. The idea of creating software felt like it belonged to someone else’s talent stack, not mine.

Then I discovered AI-assisted coding tools and spent an afternoon building a Pomodoro timer. A working app. On the internet. In about an hour. My mind was blown.

Being able to do that didn’t make me a software engineer. It didn’t need to. What it did was add another layer to my talent stack, a layer that when combined with everything else I already know about productivity systems and content creation, opens up possibilities that didn’t exist before.

Here’s what I mean: I’ve spent years teaching people my GAP planning method. Define your weekly goal, identify action items, protect time to work on them. I do this in a bullet journal every week and I believe pen and paper is still the best way to plan. But not everyone feels that way.

Now I can build a simple web tool that lets someone try the GAP method in seconds, without downloading anything, without signing up for Notion, without buying a notebook. I can take my ideas and make them more accessible to more people — because I was willing to look stupid for an afternoon and learn something new.

That’s the talent stack in action.

Learn Just Enough to Be Dangerous

There’s a phrase I keep coming back to: learn just enough to be dangerous.

Not enough to be an expert. Not enough to go pro. Just enough to experiment, to tinker, to see what’s possible when you combine a new skill with everything you already know.

I think this is one of the most important mindsets you can develop right now, especially in a world where AI is making so many skills more accessible than ever before. You don’t need to become a world-class programmer. You need to know enough to prompt an AI coding tool effectively. You don’t need a design degree. You need to understand basic visual principles well enough to communicate what you want. You don’t need an MBA. You need to understand your numbers well enough to make good decisions.

The temptation (and I feel this constantly) is to dismiss new skills because you’re not going to master them. “Why would I learn to code when there are real developers out there?” Because you’re not trying to become a developer. You’re trying to add another block to your stack. And that block, combined with everything else you’ve been building for years, might be the exact piece that creates something nobody else can.

Robin Sloan wrote something years ago that I think about all the time. He compared learning to code to learning to cook. Just because you want to improve your knife skills or understand how salt and fat and acid work together doesn’t mean you’re going to open a restaurant. You just want to cook better food. You want to put your own spin on things. You want the ability to make something personal and custom for yourself and the people close to you.

That’s what acquiring new skills feels like to me right now. I’m not building the next big productivity app. I’m making a simple, helpful, personal tool that matches how I think and how I work. And for now—maybe forever—that’s good enough.

The Real Risk Isn’t Wasting Time—It’s Standing Still

I’ll be honest: not every new skill I’ve experimented with has paid off immediately. I’ve spent afternoons tinkering with tools that I’ll probably never use again. I’ve gone down rabbit holes that led nowhere obvious. I’ve looked foolish asking basic questions about things that most people in a room already understood.

And every single one of those experiences added something to the stack.

Here’s the thing about talent stacking that most people miss: you don’t always know how the pieces will fit together when you’re acquiring them. The value often shows up later, in unexpected ways.

The email marketing skills I learned at ConvertKit didn’t seem directly connected to making YouTube videos—until they became the backbone of how I monetize my channel. The journaling practice I started years ago didn’t seem like a business asset—until it became the foundation of my most successful course.

You can’t always connect the dots going forward. But you can put yourself in position to have more dots to connect.

The real risk isn’t spending an afternoon learning something that doesn’t immediately make you money. The real risk is refusing to learn anything new because you can’t see the ROI yet. In a world that’s changing this fast, the people who stay curious and keep stacking will be the ones who adapt and thrive. The ones who lock in on a single skill and refuse to explore will be the most vulnerable to disruption.

Be Willing to Look Stupid

I want to say something about this that doesn’t get talked about enough: building your talent stack requires a willingness to be a beginner.

And being a beginner sucks.

I think about this in jiu-jitsu. I’m a purple belt now, and when I roll with other purple and brown belts, I get humbled constantly. But then I go to a basics class and feel like I’m moving at a different speed than everyone else. That’s what happens when you put yourself in the bottom 10% of the top 10%—you’re actually in the top 90% overall. The discomfort of being the worst person in a room of excellent people is the fastest way to improve.

The same thing applies to learning anything new. When I started experimenting with AI coding tools, I was asking questions that an actual developer would laugh at. My first few attempts were messy. I broke things. I had to start over. I had security vulnerabilities. But each attempt taught me something, and each something added to the stack.

Most people won’t do this. Most people won’t sit with the discomfort of being bad at something when they’re already good at other things. It feels like a step backward. It feels like wasting time. It feels like you should be doubling down on what you already know.

But the magic of the talent stack is that it rewards breadth combined with depth. You don’t need to be great at the new thing. You just need to know enough to combine it with the things you’re already great at.

Teach This to Your Kids

This is something I think about as a dad, too. I want my kids to grow up understanding that their value doesn’t come from being the single best at one thing. It comes from the unique combination of who they are and what they know and what they’re willing to learn.

My son Canaan is ten, and he’s already building his own stack — he just doesn’t know it yet. He plays football, he trains jiu-jitsu, he’s learning to be a good teammate, and he’s figuring out how to stand up for himself. He’s not great at math, but he’s learning to be resilient and see the patterns. None of those things alone will define him. But together, they’re shaping someone who’s athletic, disciplined, confident, resilient, and kind. That’s a talent stack.

What I don’t want my kids to internalize is the idea that if they’re not the best at something, it’s not worth pursuing. That lie will rob them of so many skills, so many experiences, so many dots that could connect later in ways they can’t see yet.

I want them to stay curious. I want them to be willing to try things and look foolish. I want them to understand that the person who knows a little about a lot of things and a lot about a few things will always be more adaptable, more creative, and more valuable than the person who knows one thing and nothing else.

The Simple Exercise

The beauty of talent stacking is that you probably already have the pieces… they just need to be recognized and combined.

Take 15 minutes today and write down your skills, the topics you understand well, the markets you’re already part of, and the connections and relationships you already have. Don’t worry about what you could learn or need to develop. Focus on what you already have. I’m willing to bet there’s a profitable combination hiding in plain sight.

And then ask yourself one more question: What’s one new skill—even a small one—that I could start learning this week?

You don’t need to master it. You don’t even need to be good at it. You just need to start stacking.

Because the person with the deepest stack of skills, experiences, and perspectives isn’t just harder to compete with… they’re impossible to replicate.

And in a world where AI can do almost anything, being impossible to replicate is the ultimate advantage.

Talk again soon,

Matt “still stacking” Ragland

Not wrong like there’s one perfect way to journal and you missed the memo. Wrong like they’re using a hammer when they need a screwdriver.

Here’s what happens. You buy the notebook. You sit down. You stare at the blank page. And then you try to do the one thing that everyone says journaling is — pour out your inner thoughts and feelings onto paper.

The problem? You’re mining your inner life for words. And that can be a little scary. Some days there’s too much in there. Other days there’s nothing. Either way, you close the notebook feeling worse than when you opened it.

I did this for years. And then something shifted.

I stopped thinking of journaling as one thing and started thinking of it as a set of tools. Five of them, specifically — each one designed to solve a different problem. And once I matched the tool to the need, journaling stopped being this vague practice I was supposed to do and became something I actually wanted to do.

These aren’t random tips I came up with for content. They come from people I admire and have been learning from for years — Tim Ferriss, Julia Cameron, Haruki Murakami, Austin Kleon, and Kevin Dahlstrom. Each one developed or popularized a specific method to solve a specific challenge.

Let me walk you through all five.

1. The Ideal End State (Kevin Dahlstrom)

Use this when: you feel like you’re drifting without direction.

My friend Kevin Dahlstrom introduced me to this, and I come back to it every year. It’s deceptively simple. You ask yourself four questions: Who do I want to be? What do I want to do with my time? Where would I be? And how do things look and feel?

That last one matters. This isn’t a strategic planning exercise. It’s a vibe check for your life.

All you do is make bullet points. Short sentences. Don’t overthink it. Just start to see what your life could look like when you put it into a frame that’s specific enough to actually pursue.

I do this at the end of the year or the beginning of a new one because it fights something I call drift — that slow, quiet slide away from the life you actually want to be living. When I write out my ideal end state, it reconnects me to my purpose and reminds me where I’m headed. It makes the weekly goals and daily tasks feel like they’re building toward something real.

2. Fear Setting (Tim Ferriss / Seneca)

Use this when: you’re avoiding something and calling it “being cautious.”

Tim Ferriss popularized this one, but it goes all the way back to the Stoic philosopher Seneca and a practice called premeditatio malorum — the premeditation of evils. The idea is simple: write down everything you’re afraid could happen, then slowly dissect it.

I realized something uncomfortable when I started doing this. A lot of what I was labeling as caution was actually avoidance. I wasn’t being careful. I was being scared.

But here’s what I noticed — fear shrinks when it gets specific. When I wrote down the actual thing I was afraid of, I’d look at it and think, oh. That’s... not that bad. Austin Kleon has this line — I think he’s quoting someone else — that goes, “The demons hate fresh air.” When you bring your fears to the surface and name them, they lose a lot of their power.

If there’s something you’ve been putting off and you keep telling yourself you’re just being smart about it, try writing down the worst case scenario in detail. You might find out the thing you’re avoiding isn’t nearly as dangerous as the story you’ve been telling yourself about it.

3. Morning Pages (Julia Cameron)

Use this when: your head is full of noise and you can’t think straight.

Julia Cameron’s morning pages are probably the most well-known journaling method out there, and for good reason. The practice is straightforward — write two to three handwritten pages of whatever is on your mind first thing in the morning. No prompts. No structure. Just dump it out.

I find morning pages most useful when I’m spiraling a little. When I’ve got anxiety. When my thoughts feel messy and clogged. The point isn’t to produce anything useful. The point is to clear the mental pipes.

And look — if what’s on your mind is oh my God oh my God oh my God for two full pages, write that. I’m serious. It’ll probably help more than you think.

Where people get stuck with morning pages is they treat it like it’s supposed to produce insight every time. It’s not. Think of it more like stretching before a workout. You’re not doing it because the stretch itself is the point. You’re doing it so everything after it works better.

Use morning pages when you’re clogged up, anxious, or creatively stuck. Clear the pipes. Then move on.

4. Gratitude Journaling

Use this when: you’re sliding into negativity or feeling disconnected.

You’ve heard of this one. Everyone has. But stick with me because there’s a specific angle here that most people miss.

My friend Dr. Sonja Lyubomirsky was part of a study that looked at six different gratitude practices, and the one that stood out above all the others was the long-form gratitude letter — written to a specific person. Here’s the part that got me: even when the letter wasn’t sent, the person who wrote it still felt more grateful and more connected to whoever they wrote about.

Just the act of writing it changed how they felt.

As a starting point, I like what I call noun gratitude journaling. Each day, write down a person, a place, and a thing you’re grateful for. That’s it. Three nouns. And if one of them really stands out, keep writing about it for a few more lines.

What the science shows — and what I’ve experienced — is that gratitude can reframe your experience without pushing away the hard stuff. You’re not pretending the pain isn’t there. You’re just making room for what’s also true. That’s a meaningful difference.

5. Observational Journaling (Haruki Murakami & Austin Kleon)

Use this when: you want to be more present and stop overanalyzing everything.

This last one is my favorite to talk about because it solves one of the biggest reasons people get stuck with journaling — they think they need a rich inner life to write about, and they don’t feel like they have one.

Observational journaling flips that. Instead of mining your inner world, you notice the outer one. You witness what’s happening around you and write it down. No interpretation required.

Murakami practiced this publicly in his book What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. And because he’s one of the great living writers, his version sounds like poetry. Here’s one passage I keep coming back to:

“I look up at the sky, wondering if I’ll catch a glimpse of kindness there, but I don’t. All I see are indifferent summer clouds drifting over the Pacific... What I should be looking at is inside of me. Like staring down a deep well. Can I see kindness there? No. All I see is my own nature — my own individual, stubborn, uncooperative, often self-centered nature that still doubts itself.”

That’s observing the world around you while being honest about the world inside of you. And it’s exactly why journaling can be both painful and beautiful at the same time.

You don’t have to write like Murakami. You just have to notice. What did you see today? What happened? What surprised you? Write it down. That’s the whole practice.

Pick One

You don’t need all five of these right now. You need the one that matches where you are today.

Feeling directionless? Start with the Ideal End State. Avoiding something and pretending it’s strategy? Try Fear Setting. Head full of noise? Morning Pages. Sliding into negativity? Gratitude. Overthinking everything? Just observe.

The rest will be here when you need them.

Journaling was never supposed to be a blank page that stresses you out. It’s a set of tools — and the right tool at the right time can change how you think, how you feel, and how you move through your day.

Pick one. Start today. And if this kind of thing is useful to you, subscribe — I write about intentional living, analog tools, and making progress on the things that actually matter.

Subscribe now

Grant Cardone popularized it in his book of the same name, and the core message—at least as I understood it—is “think bigger, work harder, achieve more.” Set goals that are ten times larger than what you think is possible, then put in ten times the effort to reach them.

I don’t hate this idea. Most people should think bigger. Most people are playing it too safe. And there’s real value in being willing to do things differently to accomplish what once seemed impossible.

But I’ve been working on this creator stuff long enough to know that simply thinking bigger and working harder isn’t going to cut it. Mindset matters, sure. But mindset without a clear path is just motivation that burns out by February.

There’s another 10X rule that has shown up for me—and for many creators I’ve watched build real careers over time. It’s not about magically thinking ten times bigger. It’s about actually doing 10X the work. Committing to the time and the grind that real mastery requires. Putting in the reps when nobody’s watching and nothing seems to be working.

In this essay, I want to show you how each of those 10X jumps in literal output—newsletters written, videos published, podcasts recorded, workouts completed—creates a different kind of transformation. Not because the math is magic, but because the reps change who you become.

Here’s the framework:

10 reps to get a feel → 100 reps to build momentum → 1,000 reps for mastery.

Ready? Let’s get into it.

The Real Reason Most People Quit

Most people quit too early.

Not because they lack talent. Not because they chose the wrong thing. They quit because they confuse how they feel with what’s actually happening. Three attempts at journaling feels like enough data to conclude it doesn’t work. Five mediocre YouTube videos feels like proof you’re not cut out for this. A few awkward gym sessions and suddenly “fitness isn’t really my thing.”

But here’s what I’ve learned after years of creating content, building habits, and watching other creators rise and fall: your feelings in the first few attempts are almost useless as a signal. The real data comes later. And most people never stick around long enough to collect it.

The 10X Rep Rule isn’t a hack. It’s a commitment device. A way to separate the signal from the noise and give yourself permission to be bad at something long enough to get good.

Why You Need a Vision Before You Need a System

Before we get into the reps, let me be direct: none of this works without a reason.

Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote in Self-Reliance that “nothing can bring you peace but yourself.” He wasn’t just talking about inner calm, he was talking about the kind of grounded certainty that comes from knowing why you’re doing what you’re doing. Without that, you’re just going through the motions. And motion without meaning is exhausting.

James Clear makes a similar point in Atomic Habits when he distinguishes between outcome-based goals and identity-based habits. Most people say “I want to run a marathon.” Clear argues the more powerful framing is “I am a runner.” The identity comes first. The reps follow.

So before you commit to 10 of anything, ask yourself: Who am I becoming by doing this? If you can’t answer that, the first difficult stretch will knock you out. But if you’re clear on the vision—even if it’s still blurry and distant—every rep becomes a step toward the person you want to be.

10 Reps: The Minimum Viable Commitment

Here’s the thing about trying something new: you’re going to be bad at it. That’s not pessimism—it’s physics. Skill takes time.

The problem is that most people make decisions about whether to continue based on their feelings after two or three attempts. But feelings lie, especially early on when everything is unfamiliar and awkward and nothing feels like it’s clicking.

Ten reps is the minimum viable commitment. Enough to gather real data. Enough to separate the discomfort of newness from the discomfort of wrongness.

At the start of 2021, I tested the Wim Hof breathing method using this rule. After the first few sessions, I wanted to quit. It felt pointless—sitting there breathing deeply and holding my breath. What was this actually doing?

But I’d committed to 10. So I kept going. By session eight, something shifted. I felt calmer. My sleep improved. My heart rate variability went up. The data caught up to the commitment. Thirty sessions later, the positive impact has only continued.

B.J. Fogg’s research on Tiny Habits backs this up. He found that consistency matters more than intensity when forming new behaviors. The first reps aren’t about results—they’re about building the neural pathways, reducing friction, and proving to yourself that you can show up.

So the next time you want to test a new habit or creative pursuit, don’t decide after two attempts. Write 10 newsletters. Go to 10 workouts. Record 10 podcasts. Do it 10 times within 30 days, then assess both how you feel and what the results show.

You’ll be surprised how often the feeling changes once you give yourself enough reps to get past the initial resistance. This is also super helpful anytime you want to restart a habit and it feels like you’ve lost your touch.

You can borrow confidence from your past self and also the understanding that you’ll probably need to do this for a couple of weeks or even a month to get back in the rhythm. But hopefully, your success in the past can remind you about why this is important.

100 Reps: Where Momentum Becomes Identity

If 10 reps is about testing, 100 reps is about transformation.

By the time you’ve done something 100 times, it’s no longer something you’re “trying.” It’s something you do. The habit has impact. It’s part of your identity. You’ve built confidence through repetition. And—if you’re creating content—you’ve likely started building an audience of people who believe in what you’re making.

I hit 10,000 subscribers on YouTube around my 100th published video. The numbers don’t always align that perfectly, but there’s an undeniable connection between consistency and growth. A hundred published pieces of anything signals to others that you’re serious. It’s proof of commitment that no bio or tagline can fake.

Charles Duhigg’s The Power of Habit explains why this works. Every habit follows a loop: cue, routine, reward. The more you repeat the loop, the more automatic it becomes. At 100 reps, the routine has carved a groove in your brain. You’re not relying on motivation anymore, you’re running on momentum.

But here’s what nobody tells you: the stretch from 10 to 100 is where most people fall off. The novelty has worn off. The early wins have flattened out. And you’re deep in what Scott Belsky calls “messy middle”, the unglamorous season where you’re not a beginner anymore, but you’re not good enough to feel confident either.

This is where the winner’s mindset matters.

I was talking with my oldest son recently about his frustration in sports—how he gets nervous when other kids doubt him, and then underperforms, which makes him doubt himself even more. The same cycle happens to creators. A few videos underperform, you start questioning everything, and suddenly the algorithm feels personal.

The shift I try to teach him (and remind myself!) is this: both the batter and the pitcher could have a negative mindset about their situation. The pitcher could complain about the strike zone. The batter could complain about not knowing where the pitch is going. They’re both in the same situation… but one chooses to see the advantage, and one chooses to see the obstacle.

You have to be a little delusional to do something 100 times (to say nothing of the next 10X step). Not every rep will work. Not every piece of content will land. But if you can hold onto the belief that the reps matter—that they’re compounding even when you can’t see it—you’ll make it through.

1,000 Reps: The Path to Mastery

Here’s where things get interesting.

Look at any creator who’s reached mastery, and you’ll find a staggering number of reps behind them. MKBHD, one of the biggest tech YouTubers in the world, has over 1,800 videos and 20 million subscribers. Casey Neistat crossed 1,000 videos years ago. They didn’t blow up because of one viral hit—they compounded their way to the top through relentless, focused output.

I can only speak for myself, but each YouTube video takes about 10 hours to produce, then 1,000 videos equals 10,000 hours of focused practice—the number Malcolm Gladwell popularized in Outliers as the threshold for mastery. The original research by Anders Ericsson has been debated, but the core insight holds: mastery takes a long time and a lot of work. There are no shortcuts. Only reps.

I’m at 275 videos as of the start of 2026. Some of my best-performing content came between videos 100 and 200. But if I’m honest? A lot of videos between 200 and 300 were just okay. Some didn’t perform well at all. It can feel tricky to keep going when you’ve already had some success—when you know what good looks like, but you’re not hitting it consistently. That’s a topic for another essay.

This is where Steven Pressfield’s The War of Art becomes essential reading. Pressfield draws a hard line between amateurs and professionals. The amateur works when they feel inspired. The professional sits down and does the work regardless. “The most important thing about art is to work,” Pressfield writes. “Nothing else matters except sitting down every day and trying.”

George Mack calls this high agency—the belief that you can influence outcomes through your own actions, rather than waiting for permission or perfect conditions. High agency people don’t ask “is this going to work?” They ask “how do I make this work?” And then they get back to the reps.

Are You Gonna 10X 🤔

So here’s the challenge—and the invitation.

If you’re testing something new, commit to 10 reps before you decide. Don’t let three awkward attempts convince you it’s not for you. The data comes later.

If you’ve found something that fits, push to 100. Build momentum. Let the identity shift happen. Stop calling yourself “aspiring” and start calling yourself what you actually are: a writer, a creator, an athlete, a builder.

And if you’re deep in the long middle—grinding through reps that don’t feel like they’re working—keep going. The gap between where you are and mastery is just more reps. That’s not a burden. That’s a gift. It means the path is simple, even when it’s hard.

I can’t find a single person who has done something meaningful a thousand times and had it not work out for them. A thousand workouts and you’re in shape. A thousand articles and you’re a writer. A thousand videos and you’ve built something undeniable.

The path is simple: 10 for feel → 100 for momentum → 1,000 for mastery.

Better get started.

This year’s word surprised me a little:

Dumb

Not careless or reckless and definitely not irresponsible. Just less clever and strategic. Less interested in winning the imaginary argument in my head before actually doing the thing.

See, being smart has worked out for me. I like planning, thinking things through, asking the right questions, and trying to make the “best” decision.

But recently I’ve noticed that I’m trading too much certainty for speed and the possibility of just seeing what happens.

So “dumb” is my permission slip for 2026.

Dumb means I don’t need a big plan before I start. It means I don’t wait for confidence to show up first. It means I act while things are still a little unclear, trusting that action will teach me more than (over)thinking.

Because when I’m willing to be a little dumb, I move faster. When I move faster, I build momentum. And when there’s momentum, things start to feel lighter and life and work starts to feel fun again.

Most of the real progress I’ve made in life didn’t come from brilliant decisions made at the perfect time. It came from making fast, simple decisions and then making little corrections as I go along.

When I’m dumb, I move faster.

When I move faster, I have more fun.

And when things are fun, I keep going.

So when I catch myself stalling out this year, I’ll ask one question: what would a dumb version of me do right now? And then I’ll probably do that.

I also recorded a video of this idea—check it out below and subscribe to the channel!

What’s your “one word” for 2026? Let me know in the comments!

Matt Ragland

Before we start, a quick note: these aren’t all books released in 2025. These are books I discovered and read for the first time this year. Some came out recently, others have been around for a while. What matters is they all landed at the right time for me (and maybe you)!

I’ve linked to all these books below, and where possible, I’m pointing you toward independent bookstores like ​Painted Porch​ (Ryan Holiday’s bookstore in Bastrop, Texas) and ​BookPeople​ in Austin.

These places supported me and let me film while I was putting this list together, so I want to return the favor. You can buy books anywhere you like, but consider buying from the “little guys” when you can.

Alright, let’s get into it.

The Will of the Many by James Islington

Let’s start here: My favorite book of the year. Technically, it came out in 2023, but I read it twice in 2025—the only book I’ve ever read twice in one year.

James Islington also wrote the Licanius Trilogy, which I loved a few years back. This book kicks off a new series (The Hierarchy Trilogy), and it’s incredible. Think Hogwarts-style school drama mixed with Roman political intrigue and a coming-of-age orphan story. It has everything.

The second book, The Strength of the Few, came out in November, and I read it immediately. But start with The Will of the Many. It’s one of the best novels I’ve read in the past 5 years.

Buy at ​BookPeople​

The Five Types of Wealth by Sahil Bloom

When you hear “wealth,” you think money. But Sahil breaks it down into five types: time, social, mental, physical, and financial. Most of us only focus on the last one and wonder why we still feel broke.

This book helped me think differently about how I invest my time and energy, not just my money. There’s a section on designing your dream day that’s incredibly practical—just a few questions that help you clarify what actually matters.

The part that hit me hardest was about time with your parents. You spend most of the time you’ll ever spend with them before you turn 18. After that, you’re off to college, maybe moving away, seeing them a few times a year if you’re lucky. My wife and I moved back to Florida after 16 years away partly because I wanted more time with my parents. They’re in their late sixties—still active, still sharp—but I don’t know how many years we have left together. Now I see them two or three times a week instead of two or three times a year. That decision has made our relationship stronger, and it’s one I’m grateful for every single week.

If you’ve been thinking about time differently—not just how to save it, but how to spend it—this book will help.

Buy at ​BookPeople​

Rules for a Knight by Ethan Hawke

This little book surprised me. I didn’t plan on including it, but I read it in about two hours and couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The premise: Ethan Hawke found an old manuscript at his great-grandmother’s family farm after she passed away. With some academic help, he pieced it together. It’s a letter from his great-great-great-great-great-grandfather—a knight in the late 1400s—written to his children on the eve of a battle he wouldn’t survive.

Inside are 20 rules for living well, each paired with a short story. It’s bittersweet knowing the context, but the wisdom is timeless. I’m buying copies of this to give away. It’s that good.

Buy at ​Painted Porch​ or ​BookPeople.​

Wisdom Takes Work by Ryan Holiday

Being at Ryan’s bookstore, I’d be remiss not to start here. His new book is part of the Stoic Virtue series, and it’s excellent. Courage and discipline are easier to grasp—they’re right in front of your face. You either show up or you don’t. Wisdom is different. It takes a lifetime to cultivate, and you can lose sight of it in a heartbeat if you’re not careful.

This book reminded me that wisdom isn’t something you achieve once and keep forever. It’s work. Daily work. And that’s exactly the kind of reminder I needed this year.

Buy at ​Painted Porch​ or ​BookPeople​.

While we’re talking Ryan Holiday, let me mention two others:

Conspiracy by Ryan Holiday

This might be my favorite book Ryan’s ever written. It’s the real story behind the Peter Thiel, Gawker, and Hulk Hogan lawsuit. It reads like a thriller—fast-paced, gripping, full of twists. If you want something that feels like investigative journalism meets a page-turner novel, grab this one.

Buy at ​Painted Porch​ or ​BookPeople​

Ego Is the Enemy by Ryan Holiday

Of the early Ryan Holiday trilogy (The Obstacle Is the Way, Ego Is the Enemy, Stillness Is the Key), this is my favorite. Ego is sneaky. It wants to protect us, sure. But it also wants to win at all costs. This book helps you spot when your ego is running the show and gently reminds you to step back. I come back to it every year.

Buy at ​Painted Porch​ or ​BookPeople​

The Art of Spending Money by Morgan Housel

Morgan Housel writes brilliantly about money, investing, and human psychology. The Psychology of Money was a huge hit, and this follow-up digs into something we don’t talk about enough: how to actually spend money well.

Growing up, I didn’t think we had much money, so spending felt wrong. Even now, I sometimes catch myself hesitating to spend on things that would genuinely improve my life or my family’s life. This book helped me think more intentionally about spending—not just saving and investing, but using money to buy time with my kids, to make work easier, to live better.

I almost skipped this one because I thought, “Eh, I don’t need a book about spending money.” But it made me rethink how I approach money in ways I hadn’t considered before. And that’s exactly what a good book should do.

Buy at ​BookPeople​

A Land Remembered by Patrick D. Smith

My cousins Jimmy and Toby recommended this one, knowing I love historical fiction. It’s a multi-generational epic set in Florida, following a family from the Civil War era through post-World War II as they build a cattle empire, then a citrus empire, then a real estate empire.

I’m a Florida native who lived most of my life there, so reading about places I know—lakes, rivers, towns—made this even more fun. It’s a long book (500-600 pages), but it keeps a good pace. A well-told story about survival, ambition, and family.

Quick note: There is a young adult version and the regular edition. Make sure you grab the right one. We’re reading the YA version with our kids and it’s good too, just a little shorter and without the language.

Buy at ​BookPeople​

Inner Excellence by Jim Murphy

This was one of the first books I read this year, and it set the tone for everything that followed. It went viral because AJ Brown, an All-Pro receiver for the Philadelphia Eagles, was seen reading it on the sidelines during a playoff game.

It’s a mindset book through and through. What do you believe about yourself? What are you willing to focus on? Are you clear about what you want, and are you willing to pursue it with intention?

I’ll revisit this book at the start of every year. It’s full of reminders about how to think, how to stay aligned with the person I want to be, and how to pursue goals that actually matter. If you’re looking for something to help you get your head right, start here.

Buy at ​BookPeople​

Poems and Prayers by Matthew McConaughey

I really liked Greenlights, but this one hit differently. These aren’t Wendell Berry-level poems, but there’s something similar here. McConaughey could coast on his name, but he didn’t. He did the work and I respect that.

The poems are short, easy to read, and perfect for when you need a mental reset without scrolling your phone. Here’s one I loved:

“See everyone as someone’s child, sibling, and parent. Respect them as such, and love thy neighbor as thyself.”

Keep this by your desk or your bed. Flip through it when you need a boost. It’s good for the soul.

Buy at ​Painted Porch​ or ​BookPeople​

Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir

Andy Weir wrote The Martian, and this book has the same energy: a smart, underachieving guy who has to “science the sh*t out of things” to save the day.

Most of the story takes place on a spaceship, but it never feels slow. The pacing is perfect, weaving between past and present, and there’s a cool alien subplot that I won’t spoil. It’s funny, engaging, and exactly what you want when you need an escape.

The movie adaptation is coming out soon, and I think it’s going to be great. But read the book first.

Buy at ​BookPeople​

The Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson Bennett

My brother Mark recommended this one (check out his Substack for more book recommendations—link below). It’s a murder mystery with a fantastical twist. Not quite magical, but not grounded in reality either.

It’s just over 400 pages, which is a breeze compared to some of the other books on this list. The twists keep coming, and the ending delivers. If you want something that keeps you guessing without demanding a massive time commitment, this is it.

Buy at ​BookPeople​

Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien

Ok, I didn’t read LOTR this year, but I’m going to next year! And if you want to have a buddy read-along to read each of the three books in three months, you should ​join my brother Mark’s readin group on his Substack​. Here’s why he believes LOTR is so important:

The Lord of the Rings is one of the greatest stories ever told. Not only because it’s an epic tale with lovable characters, but because it offers hope and encouragement to those who read it. It’s a story about courage, hope, and friendship.

Winter is a perfect time to read these books, especially following the holidays. I have a hard time with the cold and gloomy days that winter provides, and reading this story will offer a light in the darkness that is winter.

Not only that, but life in our society can feel a little dark if we let it, and I believe that reading these books will point us to the beauty, wonder, and lightness that life offers us.

Buy at ​BookPeople​ or ​Painted Porch​

Final Thoughts

I read 21 books this year—way more fiction than non-fiction the last few years. These are the ones that stuck with me. The ones I’ll remember. The ones I’ll recommend.

If you want the full list with links to all the books, they’re all below. I’ve linked to Painted Porch and BookPeople wherever possible. Support independent bookstores (including your local ones) when you can.

What were your favorite books this year? Reply to this email and let me know! I’d love to hear what your favorites were.

Thanks for reading. See you next week with my annual year in review!

Matt

Book List

Fantasy & Sci-Fi

1. Wind and Truth by Brandon Sanderson - ​BookPeople​

2. The Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson Bennett - ​BookPeople​

3. A Drop of Corruption by Robert Jackson Bennett - ​BookPeople​

4. The Running Man by Stephen King - ​BookPeople​

5. The Long Walk by Stephen King - ​Painted Porch​ or ​BookPeople​

6. Old Man’s War by John Scalzi - ​BookPeople​

7. The Will of the Many by James Islington - ​BookPeople​

8. The Strength of the Few by James Islington - ​BookPeople​

9. The Blade Itself by Joe Abercrombie - ​BookPeople​

10. Before They Are Hanged by Joe Abercrombie - ​BookPeople​

11. Last Argument of Kings by Joe Abercrombie - ​BookPeople​

12. Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir - ​BookPeople​

13. Perelandra by C.S. Lewis - ​BookPeople​

14. Dungeon Crawler Carl by Matt Dinniman - ​BookPeople​

Historical Fiction

1. A Land Remembered by Patrick D. Smith - ​BookPeople​

2. Winter of the World by Ken Follett - ​BookPeople​

3. Fall of Giants by Ken Follett - ​BookPeople​

Sports

1. The Perfect Pass by S.C. Gwyne - ​Painted Porch​

2. The Last Folk Hero by Jeff Pearlman - ​BookPeople​

3. The Front Runner by Brendan O’Meara - ​BookPeople​

4. Trends in Offensive Football by Dan Casey - ​BookPeople​

Business & Mindset

1. Inner Excellence by Jim Murphy - ​BookPeople​

2. The Best Possible Life by Jim Murphy- ​BookPeople​

3. Buy Back Your Time by Dan Martell - ​BookPeople​

4. Five Types of Wealth by Sahil Bloom - ​BookPeople​

5. $100 Million Dollar Money Models by Alex Hormozi - ​Amazon​ or ​Direct​

Other

1. The Power Broker (ok the first half) by Robert Caro - ​Painted Porch​ or ​BookPeople​

2. The Awe of God by John Bevere - ​BookPeople​

3. Stand Firm and Act Like Men by Joby Martin - ​BookPeople​ or ​Direct​

4. Poems and Prayers by Matthew McConaughey - ​Painted Porch​ or ​BookPeople​

5. Rules for a Knight by Ethan Hawke - ​Painted Porch​ or ​BookPeople​

Thanks for checking out my reading list this year! You can read the prior reading lists from ​2024​, ​2023​, and ​2022​.

I’m sharing this because I believe there’s something in here that might resonate with you as you get to the end of the year. Maybe it’ll make you pause and reflect on what you’re doing—how you’re living as a person, entrepreneur, creator, parent, or spouse.

If you’ve been following me for a while, you know I do these every year. And if you’re here just to see how my year went in my own words, I really appreciate you.

The WRAP Method: My Framework for Annual Reviews

Before I dive into my year, let me explain the method I use for this review. It’s called WRAP, and it stands for:

• Wins – What went well this year?

• Results – What did I plan for, and what actually happened?

• Alignment – Is the life I’m living aligned with the person I want to become?

• Pivot – What needs to change going into next year?

I write all of this in my bullet journal. It’s simple, it’s clear, and it works. If you want a free printable template to follow along, ​I’ve got one you can download​—just a two-page spread that makes this process really straightforward.

If you want to watch this on ​YouTube​ or listen on your ​favorite podcast player​, you can do that, too!

Wins: What Went Well in 2025

The Big Move

The biggest win of the year was successfully moving our family from Nashville to Jacksonville. We moved to be closer to family—I grew up here—and we landed in a great neighborhood on a great street. With four kids, being near my parents, one of my brothers, and one of my sisters has been wonderful.

I do miss Nashville a lot. Old friends, old places, old routines. When we went back a few weeks ago, it hit me pretty hard. I miss my church, my community, the life we built there. But I don’t miss it getting dark at 4:30 PM in winter, or the 25-degree cloudy days when it’s 65 and sunny here in Jacksonville.

Still, the move was the right call. We are where we need to be for now.

Crushing My Revenue Goal

Coming into 2025, I was no longer working at the agency I’d been helping run. I went all-in on self-employment. Every dollar that came in was a dollar I had to go out and earn.

I told my wife at the beginning of the year: “If I can’t make $150,000 this year, I’m going to find a job in 2026.”

She said, “Okay.” And I got to work.

In 2024, I made about $130,000. So hitting $150k meant an 18-20% increase. Y’all, I’m over $240,000 this year. That’s my biggest year ever, anywhere I’ve worked.

The first place I ever worked I earned $32,000 my first year. This month I’m going to do $24,000. This has been a long road, and it feels really good to break the $200k barrier.

Growing Closer to God

This was a huge win for me. I’ve read my Bible consistently this year. I’ve prayed consistently. I’ve always gone to church, but this year I actually joined a small group and got more serious about my faith.

Church used to be something I just did on Sundays. I’d try to live a good Christian life, but I wasn’t reading the Bible or praying every day. That changed in 2025.

Now, if you’re thinking, “Hey Matt, any correlation between diving into Scripture and making more money?” Maybe. But that’s not why I’m in relationship with God.

You don’t pursue a relationship with anyone—especially not the Lord—thinking, “If I do this, I’ll get a kickback.” You do it because you want a stronger relationship with a person you care about.

Other Highlights

• Played in a church softball league with my brother Neil. Lost in the championship game and tweaked my hammy, but it was a blast.

• My family is thriving. We have our moments—people get emotional, I lose my temper sometimes—but overall, we’re growing stronger together. Four kids is a lot. I’m so grateful we have them. I think we’re done at four, but man, they’re wonderful.

• My working hours stayed sane. Even though my revenue went way up, I still worked most weeks around 40 hours. A couple of weeks hit 50 hours, but that was rare. In the past, 50-hour weeks were standard. Not anymore.

There were a lot of wins this year. A lot to build on. A lot to be motivated about going into next year.

Results: What I Planned vs. What Actually Happened

This is where most people get discouraged. So let me give you a warning before you do your own results review:

Approach your results as a reporter, not a judge.

A reporter observes. A judge condemns. If you judge yourself, you’ll spiral into self-loathing. If you report on yourself, you’ll see the full picture—what worked, what didn’t, and why.

Let me show you what I mean.

YouTube Growth: The Miss

I wanted to grow this channel to at least 150,000 subscribers this year. I’m going to end up maybe around 120,000. That’s still decent growth, but it’s way off what I hoped.

The Judge says: “You failed. You didn’t even get halfway.”

The Reporter says: “Okay, Matt didn’t hit 150k. But let’s look at the data. He spent a lot more time on client work, which led to increased revenue. His click-through rate, retention time, titles, thumbnails, and average views per month are all higher than ever. Subscribers didn’t grow as fast, but the channel improved in meaningful ways.”

See the difference?

Yes, I missed my subscriber goal. But I can see why I missed it, and I can see what did improve. That’s actionable. That’s useful. That’s not something to beat myself up over.

Revenue: The Big Win

My goal was $150k. My stretch goal was $200k. I’m going to end the year over $240k, maybe even $250k depending on how December goes.

That’s a massive win. It gives me momentum and motivation going into next year.

Diversifying Revenue: Still a Work in Progress

At the beginning of the year, about 80% of my revenue came from client work. I wanted to diversify—more coaching, more courses, more products.

Now it’s closer to 65-70% from clients. Better, but I’d hoped to get down to 50/50 by the end of 2025. Still tilted too much toward clients.

But here’s what this tells me: I have opportunities to pivot. I can see where to make small (or big) shifts to replace more client revenue with coaching revenue. That’s the kind of insight the reporter mindset gives you.

Vacation and Presence

I took more vacation this year than I have in years. We took a few family trips. Plus, the move itself—there were solid four weeks where I worked closer to 20-30 hours instead of 40.

Here’s what made me really encouraged: even during those part-time weeks, I still had good revenue. I realized I can take time off. I can slow down. I can be present for my family during a year of major change—and the business doesn’t fall apart.

That’s a win I didn’t expect.

The “Too Many Things” Problem

I probably still have too many things going on.

At dinner with friends in Austin last week, they asked: “Are you doing the HeyCreator community, the YouTube channel, working with clients, or newsletter coaching? Which of these are you actually doing?”

I said, “Yes. All of them.”

They looked at me funny.

In my mind, all these things feed each other. But I’ve also come to realize: if I really want to scale past $200-250k and get closer to $300k, $500k, or even $1 million and beyond, I probably need to focus on one thing.

I’m stretching my attention too thin. I know that. The reporter in me sees it clearly. I don’t know what I’ll do about it yet, but it’s there.

Alignment: Am I Living the Life I Want to Live?

This is the “woo-woo” part of the review, but it’s also the most important.

Alignment is about asking yourself: Is the work I’m doing, the life I’m living, and the things I’m doing every day in alignment with the person I want to become?

This isn’t as analytical as wins or results. You can’t just look at a spreadsheet and answer it. You have to sit with the question. You have to be honest.

And here’s the thing: don’t let this question spiral you into dissatisfaction.

A lot of people ask, “Am I aligned?” and immediately think, “No, I need to blow up my entire life.” Maybe you do. But for most of us, alignment isn’t about quitting everything, it’s about small, intentional shifts.

How I Feel About Alignment This Year

I feel very much in alignment with what I want to be doing from a work perspective. I’d love to focus more on YouTube and maybe write a book I’ve been toying with. But if doing those things means cutting my revenue in half? No way. That would be out of alignment with the kind of father, husband, and provider I want to be.

Here’s what I wrote in my journal:

“I have a good ratio of work that interests me, for good money, in a very family-friendly amount of time each week.”

That’s alignment.

I’m not doing everything I want. But I’m doing meaningful work that supports my family, gives me creative fulfillment, and doesn’t burn me out. That’s a win.

The Power of Consistent Check-Ins

Here’s why I recommend doing this review not just annually, but weekly or at least monthly:

If you only ask yourself “Am I aligned?” once a year, it’s hard to tell. You’re stuck with recency bias—how have I felt since Thanksgiving? That’s not the full picture.

But if you’ve been asking yourself this question every week or month, you have 12 or 20 or 30 data points to look at. You can see patterns. You can see if you’ve been consistently aligned or if you’ve been drifting.

That’s powerful.

Pivot: What Needs to Change in 2026

This is where everything comes together. I look at my wins, my results, my alignment—and then I ask: What kind of pivots or progression do I need to make next year to have more success or do more of the things that matter to me?

The Slow Pivot: All-In on YouTube

Until I start to focus on fewer things, my earning potential and online growth will be limited. I can still earn more. I can still grow. But there’s only so far I’ll get until I narrow my focus.

For me, that focus is YouTube.

YouTube is everything for me in terms of long-term ambition. I love making videos. I love connecting with you. I love the platform and where it’s going. If I could only build on one platform, it would be YouTube.

(Yes, I love newsletters too—they’re 1A. But if I had to pick one, it’s YouTube.)

So the pivot for me is simple: make more progress and get better and better at YouTube.

Yes, I want to add subscribers. But just as much, I want to make meaningful, well-done videos. This year, I’ve been more intentional than ever about titles, thumbnails, hooks, and the first 60 seconds. I’m going to continue putting time, resources, and energy into this because I believe in it.

The Paid Ads Experiment

Another big pivot for 2026: setting up a paid ads funnel.

I’ve always avoided this. But advertising—even for products, channels, newsletters, subscribers—is just part of the game if you want to grow faster.

Here’s the advantage I have: I have products to sell. Let me walk you through the math (and yes, I know—don’t do math live, but here we go).

Let’s say I spend $5 per email subscriber (that’s on the high end). If I spend $1,000 a month on ads, that’s 200 new subscribers.

Now, I have Analog Action, which normally sells for $250. Let’s say I discount it to $200 for new subscribers.

If just 5 of those 200 people buy the course within 30-60 days, I’ve made back the $1,000 I spent on ads.

See how that works?

Even if I just break even, I’m increasing my overall newsletter list. I’m giving myself infinite time to sell to those people down the road. And even if some never buy, if they’re opening emails consistently, eventually my list will grow to 30k, 50k, 100k—and sponsors will pay me to reach that audience.

Paid ads aren’t the only way to grow, but they’re gasoline on the fire. That’s a big pivot for me in 2026.

The Newsletter Coaching Program

Another pivot: I’m giving more attention on in-depth newsletter coaching.

I started doing this in 2025—a 10-week program where you write a newsletter every week, and I give you inline edits and feedback on how to improve. More opens, more reads, more sales.

I’ve been working in newsletters for over 10 years. I’ve worked with Ryan Holiday, Dan Go, Justin Welsh, Michael Hyatt, Amanda Goetz, Susan Cain, Michael Easter—a lot of great people. I’ve seen what works, and I apply that directly to the people in this program.

If I can run three cohorts next year, that will replace the majority of my client work. And that feels really exciting.

Newsletter coaching + YouTube + Creator community: that’s the focus for 2026. ​Click here to watch a recent webinar​ I hosted about the “over-teaching problem” many writers face.

Why Annual Reviews Matter

Here’s what I love about annual reviews:

They give you the information you need to set realistic, achievable goals for the next year.

Too many people—myself included, for years—just look forward and say, “What do I want to do next year? How can I improve?”

Those are good questions. But if you don’t have the data from last year to inform those questions, you’re going to make inaccurate guesses. And when you do that, you’re more likely to fail. Which is depressing and why people quit on their goals too early.

For example: I set a 50,000 subscriber goal this year. I had no reason for that number except “I’m going for it.” I’m going to hit about 18-20k new subscribers this year.

So now, going into 2026, I can make a better guess:

If I increase my videos by 10-15 (that’s 20-30% more content), could I increase subscribers by 20-30%? If I make 40-50 videos next year, could I get closer to 30,000 new subscribers?

That’s a much better goal. It’s informed by data. It’s realistic but still stretching me.

Same with revenue. My baseline goal for 2026 is $250k, with a stretch goal of $300k. I can set those numbers because I know what I did this year. I know that if I get paid ads running and scale my newsletter coaching, I can hit those numbers.

Nothing will help you set a better goal than knowing how last year’s goals performed.

The Four Questions You Need to Ask Yourself

That’s it. Four questions:

1. Wins: What went well?

2. Results: What did I plan for, and what actually happened?

3. Alignment: Am I living the life I want to live?

4. Pivot: What needs to change?

These are the only questions you need for an annual review.

If you want a simple template to follow, I’ve got one for you. It’s free. It’s just a two-page spread you can print out or copy into your bullet journal.

Download the WRAP Review template

I’d love to hear how this system works for you. If you do an annual review using WRAP, let me know how it goes!

See you next year 👋🏻

Matt Ragland

1. I’m not writing regularly

2. It’s a longer essay, at least 1,000 words

3. I don’t have a specific niche or topic to cover

Point 3 is one of the tough parts about making things on the internet. If you want people to pay attention, you have to package ideas in a way that’s repeatable and familiar. So to say this Substack isn’t specifically about productivity, creator business, or fatherhood most likely means that it will struggle to grow or maintain readership—unless I hit the cultural zeitgeist with an essay, which is tough to plan for.

But I do occasionally have the spark of an idea that I want to follow along, even though it doesn’t have anything to do with one of the topics I make content for professionally. And I also believe that long-form writing and building the muscle of writing is going to become even more important the bigger AI becomes.

Anyone who creates content professionally—especially if they find themselves a bit hemmed in by their topic of choice—knows the root of creativity and inspiration often lies at scratching your own itch and doing things because you find them interesting. Without this, most content creators become burnt out, hoping they make enough money to float along until they find the creative fire again.

But I digress…

So this Substack is where you can find my writing that’s a bit different than what I normally make about productivity and creator business especially. My first posts are my 2025 best books and year in review. I have a couple more on the backburner about creator infrastructure and my guide to networking—heck this might even be the place I dust off my old podcast.

If you’re seeing this, thanks for reading and please say hi in the comments, I’d love to hear from you. Because even though this is “mostly for me”, I’m still an Enneagram 3 with a love language for words of affirmation.

Talk soon,

Matt