I’ve been thinking a lot about discipline recently.

Well, to be more honest, I’ve been thinking about my goals and why I haven’t hit some of them yet.

I’ve always had lofty goals. Personally. Financially. Professionally. Creatively. It doesn’t really matter the category, I’ve just always held myself to high standards and believed I could reach impressive heights.

That belief has carried me far.

But it’s also quietly weighed on me.

This year hasn’t been much different.

I ended 2025 by writing down some pretty aggressive goals. The kind that makes you feel slightly uncomfortable just reading them back. I told myself 2026 would be the year I executed at a different level.

And in many ways, I have.

I’m more focused than I’ve ever been.

More clear.

More intentional.

So why does it feel like the year has already ended and I haven’t done much yet?

It’s still early, but somehow, I feel behind.

There are so many moments where I tell myself I lack discipline.

That I should be sharper, stronger, and more locked in.

But then I pause and think back to where I used to be.

And I can’t ignore the truth:

I’ve grown tremendously.

There was a version of me who avoided hard conversations.

A version of me who stayed in environments that didn’t fit.

A version of me who tolerated things simply because they were comfortable.

That’s not who I am anymore.

I’ve changed my surroundings and habits.

I’ve made difficult decisions that cost me short-term comfort but gave me long-term alignment.

And that took discipline.

Real discipline isn’t just waking up at 4am every morning.

It’s walking away from things that no longer serve you.

It’s asking for more when you know you’ve settled.

It’s restructuring your life so your environment supports your ambition instead of suffocating it.

Getting older is realizing that your circumstances matter.

Your environment either fuels your growth or fights it.

Your circle either sharpens you or shrinks you.

Your routines either move you forward or keep you stuck.

I wouldn’t be where I am today if I hadn’t continuously adjusted my environment. Sometimes that meant changing jobs. Sometimes that meant changing rooms. Sometimes that meant changing my own behavior.

I have to remember, that’s discipline too.

But here’s where grace enters.

Holding yourself to high standards doesn’t mean you have to punish yourself when you miss a mark.

Lofty goals are directional, not weapons.

They’re meant to pull you forward, not shame you for being human.

I’m realizing that part of maturity is learning to zoom out.

Five years ago, I prayed for the stability I now sometimes overlook.

Three years ago, I wanted clarity that I now take for granted.

The man I am today would’ve impressed the younger version of me. You have no idea.

And maybe that’s worth acknowledging.

Maybe it actually is discipline that got me here.

But grace is what will allow me to stay healthy while going further.

So let’s go back to the beginning: I don’t think I lack discipline.

I think I’m evolving.

And evolution feels unfamiliar.

It feels slower than urgency and steadier than hype.

Maybe I don’t feel explosive this year because I’m becoming stable.

Maybe I don’t feel dramatic growth because I’m building depth.

Maybe, just maybe, I’m no longer chaotic.

There’s something powerful about that. Becoming the man I’ve always wanted to be.

Discipline built the framework of my life.

Grace is teaching me how to live inside it without constantly measuring the walls.

I still have aggressive goals.

I still want impressive heights.

But I’m learning that growth isn’t just about how far you climb.

It’s about how solid you’ve become while climbing.

And for the first time in a long time, I feel solid.

Displaying and normalizing black wealth is something that is very important to me. it is part of the reason that i write and part of why i tell the stories i do. yesterday i published an essay on Black Wealth in the United States — an examination of how wealth has actually been built in this country, who has historically had access to those systems, and how Black Americans have created ownership, leverage, and prosperity despite structural barriers.

This essay goes beyond headlines about the wealth gap. It studies land policy, industrial capital, business ownership, index investing, acquisition entrepreneurship, estate planning, and financial literacy — not just as abstract concepts, but as strategic tools. My goal isn’t just to reflect on history. It’s to pull instruction from it. Because when we understand where wealth has been built before, we can better identify where it can be built next.

You can read the essay in full here.

Happy Black History Month!

If you haven’t already had the chance to grab my first book, get a copy today. It will be connected to the next four books that I’m writing and you don’t want to miss out on the foundational story behind the bigger picture. Purchase your copy here.