George Jenko

The rhythmic mathematics of human existence Life is rarely a straight line, yet we often exhaust ourselves trying to make it one. Matthew McConaughey suggests that rather than looking for a perfect equilibrium, we should look for the "rhyme." This concept—that history doesn't repeat but it often echoes—provides a more accurate map of the human experience than any corporate productivity chart ever could. When we talk about life rhyming, we are acknowledging that the highs and lows aren't accidents; they are part of a recurring meter that balances debits and assets, technology and culture, heaven and hell. Every time we introduce a new technology, an old culture dies. Every time we gain speed, we lose depth. The challenge for most is that they view life as a series of disconnected events rather than a continuous poem. When you stop fighting the imbalance and start looking for the symmetry, the world stops being a chaotic mess and starts looking like a predictable, if wild, adventure. This perspective shift allows for a unique intersection of science and faith. Science is simply the practical pursuit of a God we will never prove, and that lack of proof is precisely the point. It leaves room for belief. Whether you are an atheist, an agnostic, or a devout believer, you are participating in a system where self-reliance and divine intervention aren't contradictions—they are two voices singing the same song. Forgiveness as a debt to the self One of the most persistent poisons in the human psyche is the inability to forgive betrayal, yet we often misunderstand what forgiveness actually costs. There is a common trap in modern culture where we use forgiveness as a crutch for repeat offending. If you steal from someone, say you're sorry, and then do it again, you aren't seeking reconciliation—you're seeking a loophole. The true work of forgiveness isn't for the person who did the wrong; it's for the person who suffered it. You flush the deed so it doesn't keep you up at night, but you don't necessarily hand the thief your keys again. The hardest person to forgive is often the one in the mirror. When we betray ourselves—when we break our own word or compromise our own standards—we create a "living hell" or a "daymare." Nightmares are easy because you eventually wake up; daymares stay with you while you're walking around. To escape this, one must acknowledge the guilt rather than dusting it off too quickly. Resiliency is a virtue, but skipping the penance leads to becoming a repeat offender against your own potential. You must feel the weight of the wrongdoing enough to ensure you never want to carry it again. Only then can you truly move forward with a clean ledger. Why greatness demands a temporary loss of balance We are obsessed with balance, yet almost every significant achievement in human history came from someone who was radically out of whack. Greatness requires exit velocity, and exit velocity requires an intense, singular focus that ignores the typical rules of a "well-rounded life." If you want to achieve something extraordinary, you have to be willing to be an outlaw, a hustler, and someone who wakes up in the middle of the night with their teeth gritting. The mistake many people make is modeling the result of a successful person rather than their rise. They look at Warren Buffett reading the newspaper for six hours a day and think that is the secret to wealth. They ignore the decades of manic late-night hustling that gave him the luxury of that peaceful afternoon. If you are in the building phase of your life, seeking the tranquility of a master is a recipe for stagnation. You have to embrace the rage, the sweat equity, and the blood being drawn. Peace is a gift of grace, but to reach it, you must first be willing to rage against your current limitations. The courage to let people pass you Modern life feels like a race where we are constantly looking over our shoulders, but the highest form of courage is often the willingness to slow down and fix a recurring flaw. Many people have the courage of the persistent—the ability to get up, dust themselves off, and keep running. But if you keep running into the same pothole and twisting the same ankle, your persistence is just stupidity in a better outfit. True courage is the ability to say, "I'm going to let people pass me right now so I can figure out why I keep failing at this specific junction." This shift often requires a move from a "renter's mentality" to an "owner's mentality." In a transactional world, people treat relationships, jobs, and even their own bodies like rentals—something to be used, flipped, and discarded. An owner's mentality assumes a long-term commitment. It assumes that every person you hire or every partner you choose is a "lifer." Even if they don't stay forever, entering the room with the intention of building a home rather than just occupying a space changes how you perform. It makes you more vulnerable, yes, but it also makes success more likely because you are fully invested. When you hold one foot back to protect yourself from failure, you simultaneously ensure that success, should it come, will feel unearned. Practical steps for reclaiming the hero role When life has repeatedly "kicked you in the nuts," becoming the hero of your own story feels like a luxury you can't afford. But hope and faith aren't just for the comfortable; they are survival tools for those in misery. Without a target to chase, you are guaranteed to stay exactly where you are. 1. **Record your overthinking**: Overthinkers often see significance in everything, which means nothing is actually significant. Record yourself during a spiral and listen back to it. You will likely hear "babble" rather than brilliance. Hearing the treble in your own voice helps you realize you need to lower the volume and find the bass. 2. **Adopt the two-factor heart authentication**: We live in a world that is "neck-up," obsessed with logic and reason. Before making a major decision, run it through the heart. If the math adds up but the soul feels sick, the answer is no. 3. **Identify your "Inner Citadel"**: Stop retreating into spiritual death where you claim you "didn't want it anyway" just because you failed. Admit you wanted the win, mourn the loss, and then get back on the field. 4. **Define your Good Man versus Nice Guy status**: A nice guy just gets along and lacks discernment. A good man has ideals he will stand for and lines he will not allow people to cross. Decide where your "no" lives. The illusion of longevity over quality We are spending billions of dollars trying to figure out how to live longer, yet very little time figuring out how to live better. Success without profit is a hollow victory. If you have the most money and the longest life, but you can't sleep at night or maintain a relationship, you haven't actually profited; you’ve just accumulated. Real success measures the quality of the years alongside the quantity. Time is not an enemy to be raced against; it is a partner to be danced with. The fastest way to get things done is often to move at a pace that allows for soul and rhythm. As the saying goes, "Be quick, but don't be in a hurry." When you hurry, you miss the foundation. You get to the end of the Lego set and realize you have twelve pieces left over. Life works the same way. If you ignore the directions of your own character to get to the finish line faster, the structure you build will eventually collapse. Trust that time is on your side, and spend it on the things that offer a return on your humanity, not just your bank account. Reclaiming the masculine and the vulnerable The conversation around masculinity has become a "shotgun spread" of accusations and apologies, leaving many men feeling sterilized rather than sanitized. The goal of any healthy movement should be to remove the toxic, not the essential. A truly masculine man is not an oppressor; he is someone who wants to be relied upon. This desire to provide solutions and be a savior isn't a flaw to be corrected—it is an instinct to be directed toward noble ends. We also need a new definition of vulnerability. It isn't just about crying or sharing feelings; it is about saying your truth in spite of the consequences, especially when those consequences are scary. That is an offensive move, not a defensive one. It puts you on the front foot. When men and women stop viewing empathy as a zero-sum resource, we can begin to build a culture where good men are raised up rather than cancelled out. A world with more good men is the best possible outcome for everyone involved, and it starts with individuals having the courage to be involved with themselves—to invest in their own craft, their own character, and their own "inner citadel."