Read time: 3 min.

This poem has been stuck in my head all week.

It's from William Martin, and buried in there are six words that shook up my brain:

"Make the ordinary come alive."

The full line reads: "And make the ordinary come alive for them. The extraordinary will take care of itself."

Now here's where it gets uncomfortable:

I've built my business helping coaches create profitable coaching businesses. We talk about massive impact, scaling to six figures, building something extraordinary.

I believe in this work deeply.

I'm also aware enough to know that hitting revenue goals won't magically make me content. I understand that external achievements don't fill internal voids.

The blind spot of ambition

But.

(And this is a big but.)

Even knowing all that, the relentless focus of chasing big goals can make you blind to what's right in front of you.

You start living so far ahead that you forget the ordinary moments happening now.

I messed up

Last week, I caught myself mid-conversation with someone I care about, already mentally drafting this newsletter. My body was there. My mind had checked out for future productivity.

That's the thing about ambition: it's endless. There's always another mountain to climb, another version of yourself to become, another goal waiting beyond the one you just achieved.

Therefore, ambition without presence becomes sophisticated suffering.

You're technically winning while simultaneously missing your actual life.

• Feel the texture of your steering wheel

• Taste the first bite of whatever you're eating next

• Notice the person in front of you instead of the thoughts in your head

All of it. The beautifully, wonderfully ordinary stuff we're tempted to rush past.

The non-existent finish line

Here's what I'm learning:

The finish line doesn't exist.

Not because you won't reach your goals. You probably will.

But because the moment you cross one line, another one appears in the distance.

This moment is your life

Ambition is infinite. Achievement is temporary. But presence? Presence is where life actually happens.

And I'm not suggesting you abandon your ambition. I'm suggesting you stop abandoning your life in pursuit of it.

So when you catch yourself racing toward some imaginary finish line:

Stop.

Look around.

Feel this.

This moment is your life.

"Make the ordinary come alive, and the extraordinary will take care of itself."

Much love,

— Martijn