THOSE WHO MATTER DON’T MIND

Yep. I’m one of those people who believes that when the clock strikes midnight on New Year’s Eve, I’m handed another shot at making it “The Best Year Ever.” I know how ridiculous that sounds. If someone I love said it to me, I’d probably fire back with, “Why wait until then?”

But here I am anyway... 95% delusional, which is actually an improvement. I’ve lived at a full 100% before. And now, in my 60s, I know 2026 will bring its share of highs and lows. The only way to face all of it is to be as physically and mentally strong as I can. That takes real work. Real discipline. Real honesty.

I’ve never been afraid of the grind. But now there’s a new opponent: the ego of an aging man and the restless mind that whispers how crazy it looks to still be trying to kiss the sky.

Thing is… I’ve kissed the sky before. More than once. And it’s addictive. There’s nothing like hitting heights other people swore you’d never reach. It’s euphoric. But you don’t get to stay up there long, and the fall hurts like hell. That pain is why most people stop dreaming. It’s why they mock people like me or should I say ... us. 

But here’s the truth: no matter our age, the clock is ticking. Each one of us is given a certain amount of time and we don't have any say about it. The window narrows. And eventually you’re forced to choose. Do I shrink my life? Cash in my chips? Settle into something smaller and safer? Or do I show people of every age what’s still possible?

I’m choosing the second option.

I’m more creative now than I’ve ever been. Even if my industry tries to box me in and take tools away, I’m finding new ways to climb. The next five years are about pushing myself toward the sky again. Only after that will I consider slowing down.

My plan is simple: I know exactly what I want. I have a crystal-clear vision of the man I’m becoming. I know how he lives, who he surrounds himself with, what he drives, and how he turns the line between fantasy and reality into a blur.

I’ve made some solid decisions the past few years. I’ve kept certain people at arm’s length. I’ve stopped gossiping. I see the sneaky ones, the manipulators, the ones who think they’re getting away with something. My silence tells them I know. It’s almost funny watching them believe they’re outsmarting everyone. I’m not rooting for their downfall, but I know it’s coming and so do they. I won’t celebrate it. But it’s coming.

I used to waste energy calling people like that out. Now they’re just a hum in a distance.

These last few months, I’ve taken a hard look at where I went wrong. All of it, professionally, personally, and in how some people perceive me. When someone tries to twist who I am to make themselves look better, I just smile. The people who truly know me… know me.

Dr. Seuss said it best: “Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.”

I’ve also teamed up with some powerful, inspiring people who’ve helped me sharpen a couple of big ideas. The plan is in motion. Now it’s about execution and patience. But the delusional part of me still believes it’s all going to happen faster than anyone expects.

Living a public life for so long has been strange, humbling, and sometimes brutal. But I can’t thank you enough for sticking with me through all of it.

My 2026 plans? They’re not about me. They’re about you. They’re about us.

Those who matter don’t mind.