For “do what you love” to work, you need two things: 1) Your love must solve a need and 2) You must be exceptional at it. - M.J. DeMarco

the common thread amongst the SCRIPTED sheeple is they have no meaning. Instead, hyperreality babysits — this is why we have a society addicted to Game of Thrones and whoever wins some stupid singing contest. With meaning, this shit cannot compete. Social media showboating is no longer entertaining. Sporting events — fleeting entertainment not worthy of tears or a sibling smackdown. Pop culture: who’s dating whom, who got fat, who’s styling a new bikini — a pointless insult and trivialization of your purpose

The problem is, you’ve allowed ordinary thinking preached by ordinary people to produce exactly that — an ordinary life.

From the earliest I remember, I was car obsessed. I ate, slept, and drank cars. Naturally, I was desperate to learn and passed my driving test at seventeen. Two weeks after, I passed my race license. I loved it; in the first twelve months of driving, I covered 25,000 miles for no reason other than I enjoyed it.
After passing my race test, I got my instructor’s card and became a self-employed racing driver at the age of eighteen. I worked for two local companies that did driving experiences with customers. I was paid to drive Ferraris and Lamborghinis on a racetrack. Yes, I was paid to drive exotic cars most people dream of sitting in, let alone owning. And I was paid well for it.
In the first three years of being licensed, I owned fourteen different cars, sometimes three cars at the same time. All of my earnings went to my cars, and I loved life. I could work at whatever racetrack I wanted. Sounding more like a success story, right?
I worked in that industry for four years, and by the time it was over, I HATED driving. The one thing that defined me — my love of cars — was absolutely killed by that job. Everyone who got in a car with me said I had the best job in the world, and for a while, I agreed with them. But after 30,000 laps on the same track, I can tell you I want nothing more to do with them.
I did that job because I loved driving cars. I didn’t do it because I loved hospitality or the thrill customers received. I did it because I drove cars I couldn’t afford. I was in it for the wrong reasons.
Don’t “do what you love,” because even if you are lucky to make a living doing it, you won’t love it for very long. You should love the value you create. The process is hard, but it’s justified by your love of the value that is created through it.