It’s close to midnight.
The house is quiet.
Everyone else is asleep.
But I’m sitting at my laptop, typing furiously.
Technically, I’m supposed to be retired.
These are the golden years everyone dreams about.
Work hard.
Save enough.
Build a business.
And one day you’ll finally be free.
Free from deadlines.
Free from responsibilities.
Free from work.
Well… I’m in those years now.
And strangely enough, I’m working harder than ever.
Not because I need the money.
Because I need meaning.
After decades of working, raising a family, and doing what was expected of me, I realised something unsettling.
Comfort is pleasant.
But it’s not enough.
I want the years I have left to count for something.
I want to share what I’ve learned.
To write the books that sat quietly inside me for years.
To teach others who feel that same restless pull to create.
To help someone who thinks,
“Maybe it’s too late for me.”
Through my writing.
Through my courses.
Through my newsletter.
Midnight after midnight, the words keep coming.
Not because I have to work.
But because I want to.
If you’re someone who still feels the urge to create something meaningful in the second half of life, you might enjoy what I write.
Subscribe to my newsletter.
Category: Motivation
Start everything as an experiment
In the last 5 years, I’ve written and published 4 books.
I also:
– Coach aspiring authors to write their books
– Help coaches, creators and professionals to turn their knowledge into a business
And here’s my real secret
“I treat everything new as an experiment.”
No stress.
No expectations.
Just a hard-earned insight from 6 years of creative work.
– My first blog? An experiment.
– My newsletter? An experiment.
– Writing my first book in 7 days? An experiment.
– Launching my coaching business? An experiment.
(For context: I have two half-PhDs in science. Experiments are my native language.)
When you treat something as an experiment:
– You stop expecting perfection
– You loosen your grip on outcomes
– You stay open to unexpected paths
– You follow steps, observe, and adjust
And if it “fails”? You still win.
Because you learn what not to do next.
Which quietly points you toward what will work.
Progress doesn’t come from doing things correctly.
It comes from doing them consistently.
The outcome matters. But action matters more.
I’ve stopped making yearly plans?
Every January, I’d sit down and map out the big stuff:
I’ll write and publish 6 books this year.
Grow my newsletter to 5K subscribers.
Launch 3 courses and hit $X in revenue.
It looked impressive.
It felt productive.
But truth was, it rarely worked.
Life happened.
Priorities shifted.
Plans became irrelevant.
So, I changed my approach.
Now I plan in 3-month blocks.
Why?
Because I’ve noticed something about myself:
Every 3 months, I need a break.
A holiday.
A reset.
That’s my natural rhythm.
So whatever needs to get done,
I make sure it happens within those 90 days.
There’s urgency.
There’s clarity.
There’s flexibility
And there’s room to pivot when things are not working.
Three-month planning keeps me:
Grounded
Motivated
Moving
I still have a vision for the future.
But I move toward it in short, focused sprints.
If long-term planning has ever left you overwhelmed, stuck, or feeling behind…
Try a 90-day plan instead.
It might just change the way you work.
And how much you actually get done.
P.S. Do you plan yearly, monthly, or in short sprints like me?
I’d love to hear what works for you.
People often ask me: “How do you keep writing book after book?”
The truth? I don’t write books for the masses. I write for one person.
When I sit down to write, I picture a single reader:
– someone who’s stuck
– someone who wants to write
– someone who needs encouragement
And I write as if I’m sitting across the table, talking to them.
If one reader finishes my book and says, “This helped me take the next step,” that’s worth more than a thousand unread copies on shelves.
My proudest moment wasn’t when I saw my book on Amazon.
It was when a reader emailed me: “Your book gave me the courage to start my own.”
I don’t write to impress. I write to impact, one reader at a time.
How to serve others
Early in my entrepreneurial career, I heard a piece of advice that stuck with me like superglue.
Just one simple, elegant line, shared by a man named Larry Winget.
It went like this:
👉 “Find your uniqueness and exploit it in the service of others.”
That’s it. That’s the line.
And it’s the best personal branding advice I’ve ever received.
Let me tell you why.
Three years ago, I was a struggling writer.
An author-entrepreneur figuring it out on the go.
I had expertise, but no clear roadmap.
I wanted to help others, but didn’t know how to make it sustainable.
I wanted to build a business, but didn’t want to lose myself in the noise.
Then it hit me:
The person I was back then… is the person I now serve.
Most of us aren’t trying to build a brand.
We’re trying to be useful.
We want to help someone.
To make something easier for the next person.
To turn our scars into roadmaps.
The shortcut to be able to do that is:
To find the people who are in the same place you were three years ago.
Because you are most powerfully positioned to serve the person you once were.
Not the person you admire.
Not the audience you think you should chase.
But the version of you from five, ten, or twenty years ago.
The one who felt lost.
Overwhelmed.
Unqualified.
Stuck.
Afraid.
You already know that person.
You know their struggles, their questions, and their Google search history.
You know what would’ve helped them most.
That’s your who.
And once you find your who, everything else starts to make sense.
And the truth I’ve learned is this:
👉 You are most powerfully positioned to serve the person you once were.
That’s your story.
That’s your brand.
That’s your business.
If you’re still in the messy middle, wondering if your journey matters, it does.
You’ve just got to turn around and reach for the hand of the person behind you.
I promise, they’re waiting.
You’re not late!
“What advice would you give someone hesitant to start because they feel ‘too late’”?
Someone asked me the other day.
“What advice are you looking for?” Was my response.
A guarantee that it isn’t too late?
A sign from the universe that this is the right time?
A permission slip saying go ahead and everything will be okay?
Here it is: “You’re not too late.”
But here’s the twist, you won’t know that until you start.
So start. Start whatever you want.
Start messy, scared, unsure.
But start.
Then make yourself a deal:
“I’ll give this 6 months.” Or a year.
Whatever feels right.
Not 6 days. Not 6 hours.
Commit.
And during that time, don’t obsess over the outcome.
Don’t check if it’s working every five minutes.
Just show up.
Write the damn book.
Worst case? You’ll grow.
Best case? You’ll be holding the thing you once thought was impossible.
It’s never too late.
It’s just waiting for you to begin.