By the standards I set when I was 25, I’m a failure today.
But if I had done all the grandiose things I planned back then — and gained immense wealth and power as a result — I would have been a complete failure by the more mature standards I set for myself today.
It’s a paradox. I had to lose everything I once valued — and I had to wander in the desert for a metaphorical 40 years — to finally arrive at a place where I feel qualified to even start living a life worth living.
I have struggled through years of what felt like defeat and exile. I felt as though I had blown my chance to do the things that matter to me. But something has changed.
I’ve realized that I am entering into my best period yet — intellectually, creatively and emotionally. I am finally where I wish I could have been at 25 or 30. I had to take a long but necessary detour — and I’ve finally arrived at the start of my life.

I wasn’t allowed to express need, so I’ve spent life traveling alone
Do we really need so much ‘stuff’? Do we own it? Or does it own us?
Reading through hundreds of my old articles has been unsettling
Don’t blame politicians; you’re to blame for growth of government
Ron Paul isn’t a racist, but the old newsletters need a credible response
Can I talk myself into not wanting great things I fear I’ll never have?
Why does the mainstream ignore those whose predictions were right?
Perfect time for reaching a goal can be right after you’ve given up