Should you fulfill your potential?

Before you answer that seemingly obvious question, I want you first to consider a young, no-name janitor, who cleans up after people that think they’re smarter than him, then surprises all by solving MIT-level math on the chalkboard.

“The Chosen One” is one of the most popular archetypes in stories, and for good reason. We like this idea. It’s a nice idea. We’re talking about the Harry Potters, Luke Skywalkers, Jon Snows of the world. That there’s some prophecy, and one of us is destined to fulfill it.

Of course, magic is not required. If you’re less inclined toward the supernatural, then look no further than one of the greatest modern Chosen Ones: Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting.

A secret genius? Humble, blue-collar job? Making a pretentious know-it-all-prick suck on some knowledge?

Remember this scene? Yeah, this guy probably has a podcast now.

Now that’s some hidden potential!

How nice would it be to have some of that? I can think of a few douchebags I’d like to embarrass…

Well, anyways, there’s Will, and then there’s his two elder mentors: Lambeau (the professor) and Sean (the psychologist). Not only are these old guys the fathers that Will never had, they also represent the different paths he could take. And, on the surface, they present two visions:

The film is quite unsubtle about this theme. These two guys knew each other—in fact, they were roommates in college. Both had great potential.

One of them went on to win the “Nobel Prize for math,” teaches at MIT, is filled with achievement and prestige and fame, and has young, pretty post-docs fawning over him. He also always wears a scarf all the time, which I guess is symbolism for: a bold fashion move no math nerd would ever attempt.

The other guy is a measly little psychologist. He teaches at a community college. Works in a dungeon office without windows. And symbolism again, wears ugly sweaters. One step further and the director would have written “WASTED POTENTIAL” on his forehead.

Each approaches Will in completely different ways. One focuses on “combinatorial math” (whatever that is), and more importantly, making other MIT professors feel jealous in the face of real genius. The other talks to Will about his dead wife’s flatulence, but more importantly, how Will has erected barriers to ensure nobody ever gets too close.

At first, we think the question is: how far could Will’s genius take him? Then, we learn there’s a harder one: does he actually want to go there?

You could have been so much more

Now you may not be The Chosen One, with a destiny plotted out in front of you. No one is fawning over your spreadsheets or basking in the glory of your powerpoint slides. In fact, it’d be nice if they paid a little more attention, amiright?

But I bet you have potential. Or at least a vision for it. And I bet, more importantly, other people have a vision for you. Of who you could be. Who you should be.

And if you want to press to the highest peak of your potential, you’re going to need to prioritize. So along the way, you’ve eliminated distractions and forgone other potential futures. You’ve discarded certain careers, relationships, hobbies, interests, in favor of that destiny. I mean, why wouldn’t you?

The pressure to fulfill your potential isn’t malicious. Someone can recognize your abilities, sincerely want the best for you, and get you off your couch and do something with your life goddamnit!

You’d make such a good manager. Why wouldn’t you take the promotion?
You’ve invested so much into your career. How could you leave?
You built a company. Why not build a bigger one?

Anything less? Well, we know what that’s called:

“Failure.”
“Regret.”
“WASTED POTENTIAL.”

Eventually, that potential can feel like a debt you’re repaying to others—society, your parents, a past self that wanted this thing, whatever. And you need to pay it off via achievement toward that desired end.

What if I’m wrong?

I know about that potential. I had it once. I’m no Will Hunting, but I had a clear vision laid out for me.

To revisit: I’d been an early employee of a successful startup. I’d helped it go from basically zero to $2B+. I’d helped create its products, scale through highs and lows, through capital raises, acquisitions, and public offerings. Then, I had the opportunity to go on to build a new company, one of my own. Yeah, I had some great fucking potential.

Then, I turned it down.

I decided to be mediocre at things that I thought mattered more.

I write. I work out. I pick up my kids from school. I coach their soccer. I’m home for dinner and get enough sleep and have a great relationship with my wife. It’s an amazing freakin’ life.

Yet, I still wrestle with this choice:

What if I had started that company?
How big could it have become?
How many people could I have helped?

What if I had done all of these things instead of… spending years on writing a novel that’s all made up and will probably never reach any acclaim, nor widespread readership.

I’d rather tell you I left something I was good at to discover something I was great at. Like a bestselling novel might prove this was the right decision. But the truth is, I don’t have the same ceiling in writing as I did in my former life. And I have to accept that I may have been able to “do more” if I’d just followed my potential.

But I can’t have both. Nope. Forget the bullshit the you-can-have-it-alls say; I can’t fill that potential, while still living this good life. One of the two must be wasted.

Leave some greatness on the table

Back to Will…

Will, despite his genius, ends up, well, not headed for greatness. At least not directly. He turns away from the professional destiny the professor envisions for him. Instead (spoilers), the film ends with him, heading West to follow his love interest, where he famously leaves a note for Sean that says:

Will: “Sorry, I had to go see about a girl.”

Does Will get the girl? Does he find fulfilling work? Does he go on and do great things?

We never know.

And you. What about you, The Chosen One? Can you turn down all those expectations? The pressure? Can you tolerate someone saying “you could have done more?” (and what if that someone is YOU?)

A fulfilling life. An unfulfilled potential.

That, at least, is the path I chose.

So, the real question, is…

How do you like them apples?

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Giveaway! - I’ve partnered with the great to give away 5 copies of his upcoming book, The Happiness Code, to my subscribers. His last book, The Purpose Code, helped me rethink my own purpose and where I wanted to go in life. To enter: all you gotta do is comment or reply to this post.
Book Update - My first editorial review just came in and I couldn’t be happier: “Brilliant... well-written and immersive... readers who enjoy post-apocalyptic thrillers will adore this.” - ★★★★★ Readers’ Favorites.

Reminder: Forget This To Survive comes out April 2027.
Check out my new book website page, which is FIRE.

Reading - I’ve been in a reading funk so I’ve revisited some old favorites: Flowers for Algernon (oh boy, that ending… 😭) and The Passage (if you can tell, I love survival thrillers).
Gaming - I received a few notes about my last game rec, Dave the Diver. So here’s one I’ve been enjoying lately: Polytopia. It’s Chess meets Civilization.

This is part of the How to Be Irrelevant series.

You must waste your potential to have a good…