Part 3: How Procrastination Buried Me
I stood there on the mountainside, shovel in hand, trying hard not to smile.
Of all the rookie tree planters the reforestation company had hired that summer, I was the first to plant 500 trees (seedlings) in one day.
Then, I was the first to plant 1,000.
We all got paid by the tree, so these milestones were a big deal.
(Me back in my treeplanting days)
The next day, the owner of the company showed up, convinced he's found his next star planter.
After watching me work and giving me some pointers, he looked me in the eye and said "you're gonna be really good at this."
His words hung in the air like prophecy, and I floated on this man's belief in me for days.
I found out the next day that a different rookie beat me to the first 1,500 day.
A few days later, someone else beat me to 2,000.
In short, the owner's prediction never came true.
Sure, I was fast enough to make decent money and put myself through college, but I never joined the ranks of the "pounders" or "high-ballers"… the high performers who consistently planted 2,000, 2,500, or even 3,000 trees a day…
…much to my dismay and private frustration.
This proved to be a maddening theme in my life.
So often, I was the fast-start… the one with "such promise" who never quite lived up to his full potential.
The pattern was excruciating: in the course of learning some new skill, I'd often be the one who figured it out first… the leader of the pack. Then, just as quickly I'd plateau: I'd overthink, look down, become self-conscious… and the pack would overtake me.
I came to equate competing with failure:
Performing… risking… trying new things… It all started to feel like different forms of the same unwinnable game.
So I took myself (unconsciously) out of play.
I took refuge in dabbling, tinkering, and preparing (you can't lose if you aren't playing yet…)
I was the king of fits and starts… of timid moves and half-measures.
I HATED the way I was letting my life pass me by, but I was too chickenshit, too concerned with the judgment of others to change.
I wish I could say I finally saw my chronic procrastination for what it was…
…wish I could say I chose a different frame of my own volition.
But what finally knocked me out of my stupor was an outsized catastrophe that FORCED me to change.
I was working with a client on a revenue-share basis, sending him a tremendous amount of business. Over 600 customers a day at one point.
I didn't know it at the time, but all the volume was straining his customer support and fulfillment systems to the breaking point. He saw the dials going to red, but didn't want to lose the momentum… so he told me to keep my foot on the gas.
Long story short, his business overheated, and he had to shut down his marketing to regroup.
This was my only client and ONLY source of income at the time.
(My health business was starting to get some traction, but wasn't yet spitting off enough cash for me to take a salary).
I'd been between clients before, so I didn't sweat it… and didn't ratchet down my overhead like I should have.
Before I knew it, what I'd assumed would be mere days or weeks turned into SIX MONTHS of no income.
By the time I finally got honest with myself about the situation, I was over $208K in debt, with most of it due in a few months… and I still had not a penny of income to live off of, let alone pay down debt with.
(Low point: over $208K in debt)
Why was I in this jam?
My old nemesis: PROCRASTIFUCKINGNATION.
Yes, I HAD taken stabs at righting the ship… but when I received a demand letter from the Canada Revenue Agency (the Canadian equivalent to the IRS), that's when it hit me:
I'd done too little, too late.
I owed the Canadian Federal government over $130K:
This time, my procrastination wasn't just keeping me from "my potential." This time, my procrastination looked like it was going to bury me.
Bread on the table… clothes on my kids' backs… the roof over our head… I didn't know if I could keep doing ANY of that.
That was, finally, the kick in the tail I needed.
I went to my desk, drew up a plan, and began to execute it by raw, terrified, animal instinct…
…of necessity hurling myself into the work in ways alien and surreal, like blood forced through a stitch.
THAT was the day I became a true competitor.
THAT was the day I finally learned to stand and DELIVER.
It's crazy, because the things they SAY will snap you out, like "wanting it bad enough" and "having a big enough why"…
None of that tipped me over.
For me, it took the imminent threat of starvation.
I'll show you how I dug myself out on the next page.
