A question I haven’t been able to answer. For myself or anyone else.
A stranger handed me a framework last week that I haven’t been able to put down.
I posted something honest about 25 years of drift; keeping options open, feeling hollow, having a reputation but nothing I could point to and say that’s what I built and it matters. Two people responded. One left a comment. One sent an email that said “me too.”
The comment quoted 1 Corinthians 3. The passage where Paul talks about every man building on a foundation, but the fire on judgment day reveals what the building was actually made of. Gold, silver, precious stones. Or wood, hay, straw. The builder survives either way. But everything built from the wrong materials burns.
I hadn’t thought about that passage in years. Now I can’t stop.
I asked the guy who said “me too” a follow-up question: what does that look like for you right now? He went quiet or was too busy to respond. I’ve been sitting with that silence for a week, and I think I finally understand it. Because when I turn the same question on myself, I go quiet too.
What does it look like for me right now?
Honestly, it still feels more like survival than purpose. I’m building things. Site Nitro, a plugin suite I’ve put real work into. Content on YouTube. This newsletter. But when I hold them up against the fire, the question is — would this survive? — I’m not sure I can answer with confidence.
Except for this.
The writing. The honesty of it. Saying the thing I haven’t said publicly because I wasn’t sure I had it figured out enough to say it. That’s the part that feels like it might actually matter at a level that outlasts the metrics and the launches and the revenue.
Which is a strange thing to realize, that the least polished, least strategic thing I’m doing might be the thing with the most eternal weight.
I don’t know what that means practically yet. I’m not ready to say I’ve figured out how to connect my values to everything I’m building. But I know that question — would this survive the fire? — is the right one to be living inside of.
It’s just uncomfortable enough to be true.
I’m still working out the answer for myself. But I’m curious whether you’ve ever held your work up against that question, and what happened when you did.
If you have, comment and tell me one word that describes what came up. That’s it. Just one word.
