I've been rediscovering YouTube recently. What I mean by that is that I've moved beyond the usual movie trailers, educational video lectures and various clips of late night TV shows and news. I'm now often on the hunt for vlog-type "how to" videos.
This hunt for helpful information, of which there is plenty, has lead to the discovery of the next generation of what are called "unboxing" videos. I hadn't seen these in a number of years and now realize how much they've changed.
I’ve been wanting to talk about something for over six months now but hadn’t figured out how to broach the subject, that is until a conversation with my bestie Michelle yesterday. (Love you Michelle!)
I couldn’t contain myself as I burst out and told her how I felt like a teenager again. And ironically, she also felt reenergized, but for a different reason. That made for an amazing conversation. (Though I’m spoiled because every conversation with Michelle is amazing.)
When we think of our story, we think of what we tell others. This story usually consists of our background, our expertise in various areas and what we’ve had a chance to experience throughout our lives.
Our résumé is a story, our online dating profile is a story, how we introduce ourselves is a story, even our elevator pitch is a story and it can influence how others view us—how they mentally file us for future reference.
What if I were to tell you that those stories, though important, are not as material as your story, what you tell yourself?
I once heard a great saying: “Only trust the expert who can explain a complex concept in a way a five-year-old can understand.” To me, that expert is Carl Richards. In this book, Richards explores the ways in which we can be our own worst enemy when it comes to money, and his illustrated examples drive his points home with face-palm clarity.
Author Erin Lowry chose her audience well and never deviates from it. Those most likely to heed the messages in this book are young, broke students or post-secondary graduates with some debt (student loans and possibly other consumer debt) who are facing a still lukewarm entry-level job market.
Jacob is the real deal. He doesn’t tout himself as an expert, just as someone who has a thesis to share that he thinks might be of value to others. He’s an ordinary guy (with a Ph.D. in physics) who stumbled upon the pursuit of an extremely early retirement in the most simple way possible: by questioning the logic of the status quo. His thought process makes me think I’d greatly appreciate the opportunity to have a conversation with him someday.