Crazy, I know, right?!

Me… leading and managing other human beings…

I mean, I knew this world was going a little crazy, but this might be a bridge too far, or at least that was my initial feeling about the step up in responsibility.

You see, it’s not that I didn’t believe I would figure it out; I just wasn’t sure that the respect would be there. I wasn’t entirely sure I would get the buy-in required from senior team members and agents more skilled than I.

I wasn’t sure I was, or could be, the guy.

That’s the fear that follows you into a new role—not whether you can perform, but whether you can lead.

In the space of a few short weeks, I have been able to silence the internal chatter.

I have by no means shot the lights out, but brick by brick and day by day, I am earning my own confidence and, in turn, the confidence of those relying on my leadership.

The movement has been fun, scary and exciting, but I’m here for all of it.

Let’s have a look at how we got here, how I’m doing and why I think I might just be a better leader than I give myself credit for…

A quick recap on how we got here…

Firstly, I will just say that a more in-depth recap of this period of time can be found in the newsletter I posted in January this year. You can read it here:

Matt Savelberg | Stoicism & Mindset

Desperate Times—I Took a Commission-Only Telesales Job (and it Changed my Life)

There are no shortcuts…

Read more

5 months ago · 2 likes · Matt Savelberg | CHAMP CAMP

In late 2024, I ventured back to Melbourne after a stint in my hometown.

Within 2 weeks of my arrival, I had lost my job, and 2 weeks after that, I had not managed to find a suitable living arrangement.

In other words, I was homeless and broke.

In a spurt of desperation and survival, I took a commission-only cold call sales gig and, within the same week, scored a short-term lease at a halfway house in one of Melbourne’s least desirable areas.

My highly anticipated return to the 3K was not going to plan.

But I kept pushing; my self-belief didn’t waver as I began navigating my way through the treacherous terrain life had brought me to.

Then, within the blink of an eye, the upward spiral started to work its magic.

• A chance interaction led to a job opportunity…

• This led to the ability to secure a better standard of living…

• Which led to security and months of hard work and overtime…

• This led me to put myself in a position to be considered for promotion…

• This enabled me to get a promotion and pay increase…

• Which led to moving in with my partner to formally start our lives together…

Everything happened so quickly.

If you guys knew where my life was in a physical sense 18 months ago, it would be pretty hard to believe.

But we made it here, and here is what I would like to talk about.

What the job looks like…

I essentially took over my manager’s role.

He got promoted to a more senior management position, and I was chosen to step up and lead the team.

The day-to-day touch points look like this:

• Team of 11 agents to manage

  • Rostering/coaching/KPIs/hiring/analytics

• 6 external stakeholders to communicate with

  • Reporting/forecasting

• 4 internal departments to work with

  • IT/compliance/partnerships/training

• 3 senior managers to report to

  • Team updates/changes in procedure/expectations

Elements of this I am used to and have been doing comfortably as an agent; other parts are completely foreign and are incurring a bit of a learning curve.

There is a lot of responsibility, but I own that—it’s all on me.

5 reasons I might be a better lead than I thought…

1. I’m ok with being wrong

One of the greatest skills I have developed over many years of studying my own mind is the comfortability to be wrong.

To say I don’t know.

To be the dumbest person in the room, but not only to be dumb, but to appear to look like I don’t know what is going on.

Stripping away the ego and being humbled by my imperfections.

We live in a world full of polarisation and absolutes. But not everything has to be absolutely correct, and not everything has to be perfect.

When you accept this, you leave space for learning.

You leave space for curiosity and wonder, you leave space for growth.

Being wrong doesn’t mean you are wrong forever; it just means that you are wrong until you find what is right.

Have you ever argued with someone willing to accept fault?

The answer should be no.

Because ‘argument’ insinuates a clash of ideas or emotions. A person willing to accept that they are or could be wrong doesn’t have anything to clash back with. The argument is over before it has begun.

Being wrong is not weakness. It is strength wrapped in humility.

2. My leadership style works

A few months back, I took a test for something called DiSC.

A DiSC report is the result of a behavioural assessment used to measure an individual's natural communication preferences, work habits, and reactions to stress or conflict. It is commonly used in workplaces to improve teamwork, leadership, and interpersonal relationships.

The test revealed my natural style to be predominantly influence with a touch of steadiness.

However, my work adjusted style resulted in high i or high influence.

Basically, meaning my energy, enthusiasm and ability to take people with me was/is my biggest defining feature of what would become my leadership style.

All the things that came naturally to me would now be the tools I would use in the work environment as a leader. The ability to engage and interact, encourage and instruct, make people feel seen, remain optimistic in challenging circumstances, etc.

I like people, I like engaging with people, I like connecting with people.

Leadership is the management of people, and management is just all of the above, with a sprinkling of authority and guidance mixed in.

3. I’m comfortable with tough conversations

Learning to build my self-belief from the inside out has given me an amazing foundation for all interactions with other humans.

I’m comfortable and do not shy from any type of interaction:

• Fun

• Light

• Insightful

• Optimistic

• Philosophical

• And even the tough ones…

I’m here for all of it.

My leadership style (influence) means that getting people to follow me will come naturally, but reprimanding or cracking down will not, because I like to be liked.

Based on the DiSC report, having tough conversations was flagged as something I needed to be wary of, and I will continue to be, but I am also acutely aware of the necessity of said conversations.

Without vulnerable, honest participation in conversation, there can be no growth.

My evolution as a man has seen me remove the ego and fear that stopped these conversations in my past. I hold myself to a high standard, and I am very comfortable with letting them be known and leading others toward higher standards for themselves.

Tough conversations doesn’t mean telling people they haven’t been good enough.

It just means being transparent, radically transparent. Seeing something you think is harming the greater good and calling it out.

Simply saying ‘I fucked up’ and not making excuses, bringing selfish behaviour to someone’s attention, letting someone know that their journey with your team has come to an end or saying the thing that no one wants to say simply because it is the right thing to say.

These conversations come in many forms.

I’m here for all of them.

4. I’m resourceful

When I was younger, I used to offload all responsibility to other family members.

If the TV remote didn’t work…

Or I couldn’t get the internet set up…

Or we needed to organise a family event…

I opted out. Always.

Anytime I had to think, I decided that this was not for me; I was not prepared to learn or figure it out.

Over time, and alongside my development of self-belief, I have removed this thinking.

Slowly, but surely, I have built a level of resourcefulness and an ability to find a solution or find someone who could show me the solution.

1. Building tools

2. Self-education

3. Trying new platforms

4. Learning technologies

5. Thinking outside of the box

Sometimes called the FITFO factor…

Figure It The Fuck Outedness

If I don’t know, I’ll find out. I’ll ask questions until I understand something. Basically, I will do what I have to do to figure it out.

Being a lifelong all-rounder means I don’t have a set method for operating.

That means everything is open to me at all times. To me, there is no right or wrong way; there is only the way.

And the way, is to move forward by any means necessary.

5. The work is the work is the work is the work

I have trained my mind to do the work.

Waking up early, going to bed late, working on the weekends, it doesn’t matter.

If work is due, if I know I need to get it done, I will get it done.

If I need to sacrifice another part of my life for the short-term to prioritise something time-sensitive, then I will do that.

This is not something I have always known.

This is something I have trained and repped out over and over again. Through my work on podcasting and content, showing up every day with no certainty of success. As well as my martial arts training, doing the 1% when no one is watching because that is what is required.

The work is the work, and the work cannot be automated or offloaded.

The hard work will show, somewhere, somehow, it will show.

A final thought

This leadership journey has just begun, but I feel like I am ready to meet the moment.

Not initially, but now, now I do.

I’m happy to be here, it’s good to see my progress, and I am excited for what this new chapter is going to teach me about myself.

It’s funny how the universe can do its work when you leave space for it.

I’m leaving space, trusting the process and consciously choosing my steps toward my greatest future self.

Alright, that’s from me this week, gang.

With gratitude,

SAV

If this one resonated, subscribe below. Every week I show up and tell the truth about what the work actually looks like—the doubt, the momentum and everything in between.

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Opened the prompt. Started typing. Laid out my themes, my tone, and the structure.

Then I stopped.

What am I doing?

The point of this newsletter, this writing, this practice is for me.

My writing skills. My output. My consistency.

Having Claude put something polished together based on my core themes seemed like a good solution at 5:30am on a Thursday, with the work commute not far off.

But it isn’t.

So I paused, mulled it over and then closed Claude to begin typing what you are reading at this moment.

The last couple of weeks have been fast-paced, incorporating lots of new experiences and big changes. Everything is happening all at once, and my time management left a bit to be desired.

My instinct as I stared at my empty laptop screen was to take the easy route.

Don’t get me wrong, I use AI all the time—every day across every facet of my life:

1. Research

2. Solving problems

3. Transcribing audio

4. Answering questions

5. Grammar and writing checks

6. Building apps and tools for myself

7. Turning newsletters into short-form content

But today didn’t feel right.

I already offload so many menial tasks to AI—surely I wasn’t about to offload the only thing that makes me feel like I have some purpose as well. My own ideas, my own brain, the ability to write and create from my own experiences—that’s the only difference between me and an AI.

It can do everything else so well (and I let it), but this is me. This is sacred.

And I almost felt the constraints of life take that away.

There is a big lesson in this.

Something we aren’t all fully aware of just yet, but something that is going to be more and more important the deeper we collectively go down this rabbit hole.

I’ll give you a couple of examples to illustrate my point.

Example 1: Directions

For the entirety of human history, we relied on our own ability to know where we are and where we are going.

Our ancestors knew where North was at all times.

They could read the stars, the moon and the sun; they understood the wind and the sea’s undulations. They relied on the land and natural occurrences to know where they were and where they were going.

Then printing was invented.

Maps were created to help people remember, and the skill of placing yourself in the world began to wane.

The invention of computers led to smartphones and the creation of Google Maps.

Now humans do not need to remember where they are.

They are told so by their devices.

The skill of knowing where you are and how to get home is disappearing.

My generation is probably the last one that has some natural sense of direction.

I still remember my Dad with a book full of maps, traversing the QLD outback and finding places that, in a way, made my brothers and me feel like he was a magician. Occasionally, we would get lost, but that was part of the fun.

Now there is no fun, no exploration, no guessing.

Just a little device that has removed the thinking, fun and problem-solving, and replaced it with a clean one-shot answer of exactly what you need to know.

Example 2: Handwriting

Over the last 18 months (since entering a corporate space), I have heard so many people laugh off the fact that they have forgotten how to write.

Handwriting, note-taking, and journaling are beautiful skills that have been gently phased out from our desired skills as human beings.

No one cares how good your handwriting is, as long as you’re proficient on a keypad.

I still attempt to write on a page a few times a week because that feeling is essential for me as a creator and a human.

That feeling of a pen in the hand…

Pressing the pen onto a blank page and turning a raw thought into something real is a freeing and empowering feeling.

Whether the words are seen by many or none does not affect the process.

It is a sacred act that reminds me of who I am.

The skill of gripping a pen and writing from your own mind is special and too-readily overlooked for the quicker and more efficient alternative.

It makes sense, of course—writing digitally allows for:

• Cloud storage

• Quick look-up and sharing

• Easy amendments with AI-powered writing tools

But there’s something kinda special about handwriting.

Marcus Aurelius wrote Meditations by hand as a journal he kept entirely for himself. And knowing you are doing something that the greatest minds of all time did is comforting and empowering. These blokes all did it:

• Albert Einstein — Kept constant handwritten journals. Analysts who studied his notes linked his fast, connected handwriting to his ability to make quick leaps of logic.

• Leonardo da Vinci — Filled thousands of pages with notes and mirror-script sketches, covering everything from anatomy to early machines.

• Charles Darwin — Carried pocket notebooks to capture observations on the go. Those notes became the foundation of his theory of evolution.

• Ernest Hemingway — Disciplined logger. Tracked his thoughts, story ideas and daily progress by hand.

Handwriting is a physical act that generates connections between the words on the page and the neural pathways in your brain, which doesn’t seem to be as present with computer work.

Slowly, we are losing touch with our own thoughts and memory.

Final Thoughts

Ask yourself…

When was the last time you wrote by hand?

When was the last time you attempted to find your way and just… got lost?

When was the last time you had fun with your creations instead of sterilising them through AI?

AI isn’t going anywhere. I’m not saying ditch it.

I’m saying—notice what you’re handing over.

Because one day you might look up and realise the only things still genuinely yours are the things you never let it touch.

Automate what you can. Offload the heavy lifting. Find answers to problems you never thought you could solve.

Just don’t give away everything. Not yet.

I almost gave this one away this morning.

Glad I didn’t.

Making something faster doesn’t generate discipline. The act of showing up does.

Today I showed up and used my brain.

And for that, I can be satisfied with my effort.

That’s it from me this week, gang.

With gratitude,

SAV

If you enjoyed this newsletter, you might like more of my stuff.

I write here every week about showing up, being human, and creating even when it would be easier not to do so. Please consider subscribing below to read my weekly thoughts:

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Yesterday at around 3pm, I received a text from my Dad saying simply “Nan’s gone”. It was expected after she was found to be riddled with tumours only 2 months ago, but no less jarring.

My beautiful, sweet, cunty, loving Nan was no more.

And before anyone chimes in with the ‘but she’s still here in spirit’ stuff, I know, I get it and am well aware of this. But her physical love and warmth will never be felt again, and it makes me sad.

So I wanted to dedicate today’s newsletter to her.

To talk about our relationship and the interactions that I most fondly remember, as well as what she meant to our family and how much she will be missed.

Her Story

Mary McCauley was born in the 40s in an inner-city Sydney suburb of Glebe, and like most people from her generation, her childhood was firm but fair.

Her father (my grandfather) fought in World War 2.

He survived and came back to raise the family, which included my Nan.

I honestly don’t know much about her early life apart from the fact that it was typical for her generation.

When she was 17, she met a bloke named Anthony Gooley.

They fell in love, shacked up, and like a good Irish Catholic couple started popping kids out at a rapid rate.

The first cab off the rank was my Mum (Pauline) when she was only 18.

From there, the kids came off the Gooley production line like clockwork. They ended up having 10 children in 13ish years… safe to say Nan & Pop was gettin busy! 😉

Life sounded pretty rough from what I’ve heard. Money was tight, and pressure was consistently on to make sure the mouths were fed. Pop worked as a plumber and handyman, while Nan stayed at home to care for the small village of children that they had now created.

A few years into their relationship, they started breeding greyhounds together.

Nan used to tell me that money was so tight at times that they would take a greyhound down to Wentworth Park (famous greyhound racing track) and rely on a placing (and cash prize) to feed the kids that week.

Things got even tougher when my Uncle Mark drowned in a river while they were away on a family camping trip. This loss absolutely crushed my grandparents, but they had no time to grieve; nine other children were relying on them to survive.

Shortly after, my Aunty Colleen was diagnosed with a disease that left her wheelchair bound in a vegetative state; she would remain like this for her 50 years of life.

Eventually, the kids would begin growing up and finding their own identities.

Slowly, they would all start finding their own battles.

Sexual abuse, petty crime, drug addiction, gambling, violence all started to become present for my Aunties and Uncles, partly due to the hardship at home and possibly due to the death and loss they had experienced.

My Nan, who had been a good Catholic girl, really struggled to control things throughout the 70s and 80s, as all of the kids battled their own demons.

Most notably, my Uncle Timmy, who turned to a life of addiction and crime, finding himself in and out of jail, before leaning on my grandparents, then making his way back to the streets and repeating the cycle.

It was tough for them to have children who battled demons, but they never stopped caring; they never stopped supporting their children.

Around the late 80s/early 90s, Nan & Pop moved to the Central Coast of NSW, which they would call home for the next 40 years. Things gradually started to calm, as the kids began finding partners and having their own children.

My parents met in the mid-80s before having me in 1988.

A similar trend followed with all the kids. Between 1987 and 2007, the 9 remaining children produced a total of 28 grandchildren.

This new life kept Nan busy.

Going from hospital to hospital, home to home, doing her best to help with the care of the grandchildren—this was all she knew.

In 2018, after a period of relative peace by my family’s standards, we were dealt a triple blow, with my Pop, Uncle Timmy and Aunty Colleen all passing away in a 12-month period.

Her childhood sweetheart and partner of 58 years was gone. During that grieving period, she also had to say goodbye to 2 of her children.

Nan was heartbroken.

But she did as she had always done and kept on pushing. Travelling to stay with my parents, who were now living in Darwin, coming to visit my brothers and me in Melbourne, and spending time with children and grandchildren—she loved her family and wanted to be around them at all times.

Like the trooper she was, Nan continued to show up and volunteer at the local St Vinnies shop, as she had for 40 years.

Her life and love never left her, right up until the very end.

Mary Gooley passed away at around 230pm on the 23rd of May, surrounded by her children, leaving behind 8 children, 28 grandchildren and 13 great-grandchildren.

A Bit About Nan (The Larikin)

Nan was a funny fucker.

A very cheeky woman who seriously enjoyed taking the piss.

I remember so vividly her constant bickering and snapping at my Pop (who was a major troll)… “Oh shut up Anthony”, when she had had enough of his nonsense.

They would always be going at each other, it was their love language.

Nan was a straight shooter. She kept it real. You did not have to guess what she was thinking, she would make it very apparent.

She was stereotypical of her generation in the sense that her commentary sometimes came with undertones of racism and homophobia. She grew up in a different era, so our expectations for subtlety were never high, but we always knew what she meant.

She had the biggest heart and made her love and sincerity felt to everyone.

Every friend or partner that I had ever introduced to my Nan was given the same energy (regardless of their race, sexual orientation or status); warmth, understanding and common decency. Everyone loved her.

I remember her being an avid reader, like a crazy amount of reading.

Every time we would go to visit as kids, she would be posted up at the dining table, drinking tea and reading a romance novel (she loved that garbage).

Two of her greatest loves: tea and romance novels.

She would always want to feed us, give us snacks or make us tea… in fact, my second last visit to see her was just us 2 at her dining table sipping tea from her nice tea cups that she had poured from her nice teapot.

In her later years (specifically since Pop passed), she started letting her naughty little inner-child out. Eating hash brownies with my Aunties, flipping everyone off, telling people to shove it where the sun don’t shine, really REALLY saying what she thought.

Hitting the pokies for a solid slapping session.

Just doing as she pleased without fear of judgement or a need to conform to societal norms and expectations.

Like the pressure of having to be a good wife/mother had been lifted.

She could finally just be.

After we heard the news of Pops' passing, my whole family gathered at the house they had lived in since moving to the Central Coast in the 80s. Roughly 15 of us (including Nan) made margaritas, got drunk, and invited a family friend around to get home job tattoos to commemorate the loss.

Nan didn’t get a tattoo, but she definitely got drunk and shared in the storytelling and laughter.

That was an incredibly loving and cathartic moment that was typical of family.

As I mentioned earlier, even right up until the very end, she was socially active and still volunteering. My Mum would take Nan out weekly, almost daily. They would go on little adventures, to shows, sightseeing, and try cafes and restaurants.

Trips to Melbourne together, trips up the Coast to visit family.

She was always on the go and doing stuff.

Nan was kept busy and loved trying new things; she never lost her sense of adventure and wonder.

Our Relationship

Nan and I were very close.

Being the firstborn grandson, I instantly found a special spot in the hearts of Nan & Pop—they were enamoured with me.

In my early years, I loved to probe her about her childhood.

“Nan what was life like during the war”… “Nan can I hear another story, please just one more about how you grew up”.

She would always indulge me as much as she could.

When I was in my early teens, I became obsessed with cricket. That became a new connection for us as her father played cricket with the greatest test batsman of all time, Donald Bradman, in the 1930s.

She actually gave me a book that was handed down to her from her Dad that had The Don’s signature from a Sydney grade game they played.

I was 15 and of course lost it (doh!).

Although I took some fairly turbulent turns throughout my 20s and early 30s, Nan remained gentle but honest when broaching tough conversations. She never talked to me from a place of judgment, just observation.

She never talked down to me. She always approached me with love and adoration, despite also being honest (very honest) in her assessment.

She had seen everything and knew how flawed human beings could be.

For the longest time, she didn’t understand the rapping and was critical of my musical pursuits. She eventually came around and learned to accept it as part of who I was.

After pivoting into life as a full-time ASX day trader around 2018, I started to pay more attention to the news and world events. We started talking about news and politics, and she would bounce ideas off me from things she had seen or read.

What was happening in global markets, the rise of Trump, COVID, recession fears and everything in between.

It was beautiful; we had unlocked a new layer to our relationship.

Over the last few years, I started greeting her with “what’s going on, old bag”… to which she would always and lovingly reply, “Hello, dear” or "Hello Matty”.

I loved poking fun at her (sometimes even poking her belly and forcibly wobbling it up and down while she sat helplessly), and she would always simply giggle and laugh it off, never phased or offended by simple and loving banter.

Over the last few years and since moving to Melbourne, we didn’t talk as much as one would like if you knew someone was months away from no longer existing, but I always tried. I would call to check in every month or so, or Mum would put her on the phone when they were out. I would always make sure to stop in and see her when visiting the Central Coast, no matter how tight for time I was.

The last time I saw her was a month ago, when the entire family was aware of her decline and when the pain was becoming intolerable.

There wasn’t a lot of talking, but it was nice to simply be with her.

I hugged and kissed her, knowing it would be the last time. She told me that she would see me again soon and be more talkative when she was feeling better. I left feeling heavy, I knew there wouldn’t be a soon.

I will miss her dearly, but this is life, and I have no regrets.

Rest in peace, Nanna. You are with Pop now, you get to see Mark, Timmy and Colleen again… I really hope they got pokies up there for ya.

Alright, that’s it from me this week gang.

With gratitude,

SAV

Thank you for reading this deeply personal piece.

If you enjoyed it, please consider subscribing below. I write here every week about life’s trials, tribulations and beautiful moments.

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Like I was collecting a NO from every corner of society.

Failed relationships, unemployment, near homelessness, poorly performing creative projects, injuries and illness, poor mental health and actual death. So many no’s that I damn near became an ENT surgeon… (No’s… nose… ear, nose and throat surgeon… okay, never mind).

I remained buoyant by my internal drivers and willingness to persist.

Those rejections started slowing in frequency, the more I fixated on what I could control. The more I focused energy on my inputs, the more impact I would have on the outputs—i.e., reality.

Life hasn’t become easy, but I have been seeing many more YES in recent times (more on this in next week’s newsletter).

I got used to rejection, but didn’t let it make me despondent.

I knew that the power to manifest change and alter my own reality was within my grasp. These apparent failures laid the foundation for future success.

Most of us don’t like NO—we avoid it like the plague.

Words like…

• No

• Failed

• Wrong

• Rejection

Are all synonymous with self-worth.

Rejection Everywhere I Look

As I said, my life has seen a lot of all of the above over the last couple of years. I’ve also seen a lot of it in the world around me. Professionally, personally and within my friendship circles.

People experiencing rejection, failure, knockbacks and knockdowns.

In everything:

• Work

• Sport

• Dating

• Money

• Business

• Relocation

• Relationships

It’s disheartening and difficult to see someone you know or love struggle with these losses—failure is a scary thing, rejection is real.

But no doesn’t mean never—it just means yes to something or someone else.

The sting of a stern NO can feel like a complete denial of who you are.

But it’s not.

That NO is just a YES in disguise… it’s a yes to another attempt to get to the real yes, aka the hard yes.

The famous Edison quote summarises it perfectly...

Love it.

You’re not losing. You’re not failing.

You’re collecting data.

Embrace the process and the feeling of the no, because it is getting you one step closer to the yes.

A Story to Illustrate the Point

Going back to the commission-only sales gig that I took back in late 2024.

This was my first ever sales gig, and not only was it cold-calling, but it was commission only… meaning, if I didn’t sell anything, I didn’t eat.

Talk about pressure.

I learned a lot in a very short amount of time. The environment required fast learning and even faster action.

Every call was put under the microscope.

Every tone or word was iterated on until the perfect call flow and pacing was found.

In sales, generally speaking, one of the key ideas is handling and being comfortable with rejection. It’s a core pillar of any sales role… learning to hear NO and simply accept it.

But this company took it a step further.

They didn’t just accept no…

They embraced it, loved it even.

If someone were to cut me off at the beginning of my spiel or hang up on me, my manager would turn to me and go, “What a legend”.

We were asked to celebrate these people.

These hard and brutal rejections were a NO that was encouraged and admired.

Why?

Because they weren’t wasting my time.

They weren’t slowing me down or getting in my way while I prospect for what I ultimately want—a resounding YES.

Which we always believed was close… now I was one call closer to finding it.

This company, this manager, embraced the strong NO. Because the hard NO, the quick rejection, frees up time and mental capacity to keep it moving until you find the right fit… to find a FUCK YES!

Final Thoughts

You have to embrace the no. Revel in it, love it, sit with it.

Embrace rejection, embrace failure.

It hurts. Yes.

I will not deny that... but you need it.

You need failure like a car needs petrol, like a tree needs sun or like the Parramatta Eels need to promise the world to their supporters and inevitably deliver mediocrity.

Trust me. Collect that data!

Get to the no/rejection/failure quickly and move on.

Fail fast.

You’re only one NO FUCKING WAY from the YES that will change your life forever... and that’s facts!

That’s it from me this week, gang.

With gratitude,

SAV

If this one landed, subscribe below. Every week I show up and tell the truth about where I'm at—the wins, the losses and everything in between.

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2 things before we start…

1. Apologies for running behind on this one—moving house, a lot going on at work, trying to balance things has proven difficult, but it won’t happen again!

2. This idea was originally published 8 months ago. I wanted to revisit it because it is a theme that keeps coming up for me and so many of my peers. I have added some extra sauce to give you a bit more to chew on.

Ok, let’s dive in, shall we!

Like a lot of 30-year-olds from my generation, I had no idea who I was.

Not in the existential, crisis-mode kind of way. More in the quiet, creeping way. Like I’d just... become whatever life needed me to be at the time. Like I had evolved and morphed for survival so many times that I had no sense of who I really was.

The undercurrents of life events had shaped me.

Each moment, carving out a unique pathway for my energy to flow.

At 16, I was the golf kid.

Then a traumatic accident happened, and I became the rapper. Then a poker player. After that, a music business guy followed by an ASX Day Trader, which rolled into the guy who couldn’t figure out what he was doing.

Sprinkle in a few moments of being the MMA guy and the Podcast guy, with a quick detour back to the rap guy, and we’re basically at the present day.

I’ve been mostly not choosing.

Not choosing who I am, not choosing what is important, not choosing where my energy flows, not choosing who I want to be.

Thankfully, I have had some awareness around this. Not much, but some.

This awareness has helped me become a little more intentional around some of the more important pillars in life.

Career. Family. Residence. Relationship.

All approached with a lot more intent… let me explain.

When we enter this world, we are little, uncomplicated things.

Balls of joy… pure joy.

No labels. No expectations. No story about who we’re supposed to be.

Just unadulterated consciousness, our true selves, if you will.

And then, slowly, the world gets to work.

Parents. Teachers. Friends. Heartbreaks. Wins. Losses. The job you took because it was “good enough”. The relationship you stayed in for far too long. The version of yourself that just... stuck around because it was easy.

In this way, the world sculpts you. And you let it.

Not because you’re weak. Because nobody taught you to pay attention, nobody taught you intention. Nobody taught you compounding, or momentum, or second and third-order consequences.

You’ve been taught emotion and reaction. Do first, think later.

At some point, you’ll be faced with 2 choices…

1. Sit back and let that shit keep happening—life’s been pretty effective at doing the driving so far, so maybe just leave it be.

2. Or you can take the chisel back, take the wheel back (choose your analogy)

I know it’s going to be harder, but I know which one I’m choosing.

However, choosing and moving are very different, but these 3 steps will have you moving in the right direction:

Step 1: Raise your awareness

You can’t change what you can’t see.

We’re all walking around completely unaware of the lens we’re looking through. The assumptions we’ve inherited. The beliefs we never chose. The habits that we’ve morphed into our identity.

These traits that we believe make us, us, are invisible to most—the first job is to slow down long enough to see them.

Different things work for different people:

• Meditation

• Journaling & writing

• Long walk without your phone

• Reading something that challenges how you think

• Sitting in silence and actually letting the uncomfortable thoughts show up

It doesn’t matter what tool you use to get there; just move slow enough to see the truth, however ugly that is.

Raise your awareness until you see the blind spots.

Step 2: Honest assessment

Once you can see clearly, you have to be willing to look.

Actually look.

And when you’re looking, speak plainly about what you see. Don’t be hyperbolic or emotional about it. Don’t be understated or overly optimistic.

Just spit them facts, raw and real…

Not the watered-down BS you tell the workmates at brunch.

Or the half-baked motivational shit you roll out for yourself after another week of getting everything wrong.

No. The real, hard, honest truth.

• How’s your health, actually?

• How are your finances, actually?

• Who are you pretending to be, and why?

• Are you happy in the relationship, or are you just comfortable?

• Are you doing work that matters to you, or work that just keeps the lights on?

Some of this may not be fun. That’s ok.

That’s the point.

You’re not doing this to feel bad about yourself. You’re doing this so you know where to start.

You can’t fix what you’re pretending isn’t broken.

You can’t solve what you can’t quantify.

Step 3: Massive, committed action

This is what really separates the boys from the men.

Raising awareness is great. An honest assessment is amazing. Feeling the discomfort of being real with yourself is brilliant…

But then you wait… I wait… we wait…

Wait for the right moment. Wait until you’re ready. Wait until life settles down a bit.

Here’s the truth, though, gang… that moment is not coming!

Ready is a feeling that arrives after you start, not before.

The action doesn’t have to be dramatic. But it does have to be real, and it does have to be now, and it will look different for everyone:

• Ending something that ran its course

• Having the conversation you’ve been avoiding

• Signing up for the thing you’ve been putting off for two years

• Starting the thing you keep telling yourself you’ll get to eventually

Whatever it is—do it wholeheartedly. Not halfway. Not with one foot out.

Your future self doesn’t care whether you felt like it or not. They just want to know you moved.

The version of you that existed before the world got its hands on you is still in there.

It hasn’t gone anywhere. It’s just buried under layers of existing.

You don’t need to excavate the whole thing at once. You just snatch the chisel back and make one intentional strike today.

Then another tomorrow.

Then keep going until you have sculpted something worthy.

Alright, that’s it from me this week, gang!

With gratitude,

SAV

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This week, I experienced both ends of the humility spectrum at such breakneck speed that I am sitting here typing this out and still wondering ‘WTF just happened’.

From a frustrating situation at work that left me feeling pretty embarrassed, to a beautiful conversation and a compliment from a friend that grounded me in such a powerful moment of vulnerability.

Life can come at you quick—from every angle.

The test is going to find you, regardless of how well you try to avoid it.

The question is never… are you going to get knocked down? The question is always… are you going to get back up?

I’m still regaining my footing, but I’m confident in my desire to make myself proud.

The Backstory

As I’ve discussed in recent newsletters, this last month has been very challenging.

Every area of my life is facing disruption in some sense.

Some good, some not so fun, all relevant and all welcome. This is life, we don’t get to choose what life hands us, only how we react to it.

For the most part, I was handling it well, but the pressure was mounting:

1. Injuries — A chronic neck injury that is causing me severe pain and discomfort, and needing to be reviewed for possible surgery.

2. Health — Quitting, restarting and requitting vaping. Managing/restricting an overindulgence in alcohol. Not training enough to stop the muscle loss and weight gain. Trying to make time for remedial massage to manage the neck pain, as well as personal training to increase strength and mobility.

3. Moving — My girl and I had been applying for new places so that we could start our new life together. We finally got approved and are in the middle of packing/moving.

4. Work — Recently, a team leader position became available at work, I submitted my CV and am awaiting an interview date (which is tomorrow).

5. Death — We found out last month that a very close family member is unwell and likely not going to live much longer. Feeling my own feelings about that, and also watching other family members struggle with the news, has been heavy.

6. Content — Trying to work through all of the above, show up, create content and write this newsletter has been tough.

On top of these, I still have a job and a monthly target to hit.

I was dialling as hard as I could, but struggling to close; my mind was wandering too often throughout the work day and making my monthly target more and more difficult to achieve as the end of the month approached.

Which brings us to earlier this week…

The Test

It’s the last day of the month, and I had a bit of a mountain to climb.

I was doing relatively well, and by mid-afternoon, it was looking like I was going to hit target and potentially even earn some extra incentive money.

After 12 hours on the phone, at around 830pm, I called a prospect that I had been going back and forth with over the previous month or so. Not just a regular prospect, an older Iranian gentleman, who I had built a lot of rapport, and was even planning to meet for a coffee one day.

I took my time getting the quote right for him and found something that was going to save him and his family a lot of money.

After re-explaining the policy and confirming he was happy, we started the application.

It was now 35 minutes into the call and approaching 9PM, I asked for the account details to set up the direct debit (we do this on every call). He paused and told me he would give them to me the next day.

I told him that in order to submit the application, we needed to put in these details.

Something was wrong, I could feel his energy change.

I reassured him that this was a normal part of the process and if we didn’t input these details now, we would have wasted the last 30 minutes and would need to restart the application, as the other information wouldn’t be saved.

He put his daughter on the phone, who reconfirmed that they wouldn’t be handing over the details.

I started to grow desperate and pleaded with her to understand my position.

That made her more cautious.

The month was ending today; my target needed to be hit. I was only focused on myself, and the desperate energy that I was giving off sealed my fate.

I was trying to be a human, but I needed to be a salesperson, a professional.

The no should’ve been a no. I should’ve respected it and hung up with honour and discipline, rather than pleading and begging.

In the end, I burnt the sale and the relationship through my insistence.

How I acted on the phone was not overly bad, but it was definitely below par. It was how I acted when I got off the phone that really concerned me.

I screamed in frustration and threw something across the room.

In that moment, it all boiled over. The month I had and the experience of feeling like an untrustworthy person were too much. I acted out of frustration and low vibration, allowed myself to become too emotional and got genuinely angry for the first time in a very long time.

Like a proper man-child. Not impressive at all.

My brother James overheard the conversation and said that he didn’t think I handled it too poorly. His words were mildly reassuring, but I know how I felt, and I know what my standards are, and this desperation and subsequent outburst were well below them.

I have my reasons. These reasons are not an excuse, but they are a reminder that I am human. I’m not perfect, and sometimes I will fall short of my own standards.

The Realisation

The first realisation came only a few hours later when I was with my girl.

I was downloading what I was feeling and relaying how I acted. She reassured me that although how I acted was not great, the fact that I was even reviewing my reaction was important.

She reminded me that most people won’t even be aware of their reactions. That I was doing the right thing simply by becoming aware and self-assessing. This was a nice confirmation, and did help to subside some of my frustration, but it was a conversation a few days later that really cemented my relief.

My buddy came around for one of our regular body doubling/study sessions.

Basically just him and me, sitting down and tackling hard tasks, the boring stuff that is harder to do when you have to self-motivate.

We were an hour or so into the session when we stopped to check in.

He said rhetorically…

“Man, can I just say something?”

Followed by…

“You’re like a really impressive person. I love seeing the work you’re putting in to become a man, and it’s really great. I don’t know many people going as hard as you and putting in the work you’re putting in; it’s honestly inspiring. You’re creating a whole new person, and it’s great to see”

I was fully locked in to every word he was saying.

My heart was all the way open as each word landed gently in the centre of my soul and in the hands of my inner child.

A couple of tears came to my eyes as I expressed how much I needed to hear that.

I told him about the experience earlier in the week, the mounting pressure and how those comments had lifted a huge weight and feeling of shame.

It was special.

We hugged it out and got back to our studying.

The Lessons

I experienced so many highs and lows in such a short period of time.

I’m honestly still reeling from all of the above, but I have had a moment to reflect and here’s what I have learned/re-learned:

1. The life you’re building will take time

The process is the process, and the work is the work; don’t rush it. Trust yourself enough to show up and find a way through. You have before, and you will do it again.

2. Surround yourself with real ones

Wise words from my partner, honest insight from my brother and powerful reminders from a trusted friend kept me aligned to my values and showed me the importance of having close friends and loved ones who know how to hold you accountable but also be loving and vulnerable when needed.

3. Regulate your nervous system

Life isn’t going anywhere; the work will always be there. Find time to slow down amongst the craziness, draw a deep breath and calm yourself—whether that is through breathwork or a hug from a loved one, or by sitting and noticing. Bring yourself back to the present moment and deal with one thing at a time. Doing this frequently will mean you show up with power more often than not.

4. You can do anything, but not everything

Focus on one thing at a time. Find the most pressing, important task and give that your all, then once that is done, move to the next. Most things can wait; most things don’t need doing—employing the Pareto principle will bring huge results.

5. Only what you do next matters

Obviously, you would love to act perfectly all the time, but that’s simply not possible. I’m human, you’re human, we’re all fallible. We are going to act imperfectly and inefficiently, just try not to make it a habit. If you get frustrated or angry, learn from it and try not to do it again for a really long time. I used to get angry all of the time; it was my default. Over the last 4 years, I can count on one hand the number of times I have got genuinely angry.

6. If it’s not a fuck yes, it’s a fuck no

If you’re in the wrong room, you know it—don’t ignore that feeling. If a prospect doesn’t want to buy, act with power and walk away. There will always be another room, another prospect, another moment, another opportunity. Have the discipline and self-respect to see that and walk away with your head high. You are abundant, move like it.

Signing Off

Alright gang, that’s it from me this week.

Thanks for tuning in and riding with me. If you got anything out of this week’s newsletter, I’d love to hear about it. Even if you have your own story to share about a similar experience, let me know! Respond to this email, I read all of them.

Have a powerful week, champs, lesgooooo!

With gratitude,

SAV

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A tax return that hasn’t been lodged. An appointment that hasn’t been booked. A tough conversation you’ve been putting off for three weeks.

We all have our own version of this.

Tough shit that we just don’t want to do because it’s hard.

Just thinking about it hurts. The mere anticipation of the discomfort is enough to make you scroll past it, close the tab, find an escape and tell yourself you’ll deal with it tomorrow. But you don’t.

We don’t. I don’t.

Because tomorrow rolls around and guess what…

Tomorrow has its own version of that list! And that thing you avoided yesterday is still here—just bigger, louder, heavier and way harder to ignore.

Most people live like this their whole lives.

Running from discomfort on an endless loop. Avoiding discomfort by running to apparent safety, never realising that the running is the exhausting part.

The pain isn’t the problem.

Avoiding it is.

The Stoics knew wassup…

Marcus Aurelius didn’t have the luxury of avoidance. As emperor of Rome, every problem that landed on his desk was someone else’s worst day. Every item that made up his to-do list wasn’t just an action item; it dictated the fate of nations.

• Should we go to war

• How do we deal with famine

• Do we execute this person or that one

• When should we take over this part of the country

He didn’t have the luxury of avoiding any of it. The buck didn’t stop with him; he was the buck—and he journaled to himself about these learnings constantly in The Meditations.

That strength doesn’t come from the absence of hard things. It comes from the decision to stop treating hard things as things to be avoided.

It’s the daily choice to seek hard things as an opportunity for growth.

Ryan Holiday, in The Obstacle Is the Way, builds an entire philosophy around this. The obstacle in front of you is not in the way of your path—it is the path… i.e. what you’re running from is probably what you should be running toward (unless it’s Freddy Krueger or Voldemort).

Another super famous Stoic, Epictetus, who was born a slave and honestly had every reason to cry and whinge, said:

None of these guys is talking about resisting or avoiding.

Hard shit is going to happen. Take it as it happens, learn what you can, resolve the situation and keep it moving.

Run toward the pain.

Right now, my life is a bit mangled tbh.

I’m moving house. I’m applying for a new role at work. A close family member is in the final stages of their life. I’m managing a chronic neck injury that may require surgery. I’m trying to stay healthy, be a good partner and still show up here every single week.

Shit is hard and taxing, but that’s how it is.

No complaining, that is simply the list.

And every single item on it has its own version of pain attached to it. Uncertainty, anxiety, stresses and sadness. Even this moment of sitting down to write, when everything in me wants to lie down instead.

I want to avoid it. I want to do the easy stuff. I want to tell myself that I can take a break from writing, or that my health can wait til later, that I can take accountability when things settle down.

Life doesn’t wait for you to feel ready. Time don’t wait for no man!

So I run toward the pain.

Not because I have it figured out, or even think that I will figure it out. But because I know from experience that the only thing worse than doing the hard thing is carrying the weight of not having done it.

There’s no way around, only through.

The pain of the work is temporary. The pain of regret is eternal.

The longer you leave it, the worse it gets—that’s a promise.

Seneca wrote in Letters from a Stoic:

The only thing we have is time, our time, our precious moments on this planet.

Every day that you avoid pain or work is a day that you offload a compounded version of that to your future self. The anxiety of avoiding it and the time pressure of now needing to complete it in less-than-ideal circumstances turns a hard thing into an impossible thing.

The trade doesn’t make sense—you pay the emotional cost without ever getting the relief.

It’s like holding onto a losing trade long past the point you knew it was done. Or staying in a relationship that ran its course two years ago. The longer you leave it, the more it costs you—and trust me, that bill will always need to be settled.

So stop putting it off. You know the work that needs to be done for you to be the healthiest, happiest version of yourself.

Don’t say no when every part of you knows the answer is yes.

When you see the pain, don’t turn away…

Grit your teeth. Tie your shoes up tight. Limber up.

Then run toward it, because it isn’t going anywhere, but you might be able to transmute it into something worth having.

That’s it from me this week, gang.

With gratitude,

SAV

If this landed, subscribe below.

Every week I show up and tell the truth about the work—the hard bits, the slow bits and the bits that make it worth it.

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This then that. That then this.

Every 6/12 months, something new. Not always brand new, some recycling and pivoting back to. But constant change nevertheless.

• New fling, partner, lover

• New school, town, state

• New creative endeavour

• New hobby, skill, obsession

• New job, employer, career path

• New addiction, mindset, transformation

But every single time returning back to the same brain. The same unorganised, energetic thing that I was partly born with (I say partly because we all have the power to rewire and override the faulty systems we were born with).

Over the last few weeks, I have been sharing my attempts to tidy up that mess.

Talking about who we are when everything is stripped away and the identity problem I had been avoiding (and now facing)… then rejoicing at the new content idea being executed and the immediate fallout from how it had made me feel.

It’s been a journey (and it’s only April 😩)!

Underneath it all, the same fundamental problem was there all along.

The problem that I have been facing was not necessarily just one problem. It was one problem with three parts.

It took a body-doubling session with my fellow ADHDAF creative friend Dan on a Saturday night when I was left to stare at a screen until I did something of value to properly see this.

Lemme explain…

Problem 1 — Identity

This one, I believe, I have gone over ad nauseam, so I won’t harp on.

For those new to my writing, I’ll give you the TLDR.

I am a rapper, podcaster, trainee Stoic, mental health advocate, content tinkerer, gratitude guru, MMA enthusiast and work as a full-time sales agent.

I have been fighting so hard for so long for all of this to make sense.

How do I make rap content and talk about Stoicism?

How do I make MMA content but let them know that I rap?

How do I share the ups and downs of wild mental health and proclaim to understand the healing powers of gratitude?

A frustrating conundrum that has led to a lot of starting and stopping.

Trying to make things make sense would inevitably lead to attempts to make things neat, which would in turn lead to trying to make things perfect, which would, of course, lead them to not exist.

Start. Stop. Start. Stop. Start. Stop etc etc…

The Solution:

Don’t overthink it, put it all in one place and let the market decide what you are.

I am the niche, the niche is me.

Problem 2 — Content

Every time I get on a roll, I trip and fall, and this is usually the reason why.

Not because I don’t know how to make content, in fact, I have gotten really good at making content. Maybe even too good… 🤔

What I mean is, making content has become second nature to me.

Something I had to drag myself to do, and that seemed impossible to show up and produce, is now as natural to me as watching Parra get my hopes up and then crush them in the same week.

I make content—I’m that guy!

But the problem is not making any content; the problem is knowing what content to make.

Every time I would get on a roll talking about something, creating consistently and building some momentum, I would inevitably feel the pull to talk about other stuff.

Then I would ponder on how to do it perfectly…

Then I would freeze…

Then pivot…

And start again.

I have a billion examples. But here are a few of the more recent and more memorable ones.

1. 2020-2022: Making ASX/trading content, sharing my journey as a self-employed full-time ASX trader. Gained a large following on Twitter and started doing numbers on YouTube. I wanted to talk about my new love for gratitude and self-improvement. I overthought it, stalled, then stopped altogether.

2. 2024: Making lots of MMA content on a content page, as well as interviewing professional fighters on my podcast and getting invited to do content at fight events—momentum building. Wanted to be known as a rapper first, not an MMA content guy, so I overthought it until I stopped and pivoted.

3. 2025: Leading up to the release of my CHAMP CAMP EP last year, I was really getting on a roll. Shipping daily DIY indie rapper content and showcasing my music and creative process. I was regaining my identity as a rapper, but when the EP was released, and I wanted to talk about Stoicism, it felt weird and forced, and I second-guessed myself until I stopped creating entirely.

The Solution:

Something Isaac John (founder of YKTR) says a lot is to document the journey.

It’s a position that personal-brand/marketing kingpin Gary V has riffed on for years, and one that Alex Hormozi has turbocharged.

No more trying to create content.

Don’t try to be an authority, document the journey and simply show it as it happens.

Less thinking, less editing, more reps, more connections.

Problem 3 — Systems

Systems, structure, planning, scheduling.

These words are to me as kryptonite is to Superman, or winning a game of footy is to Parramatta.

They just don’t go together.

I have tried countless times to find something that made sense to me… whiteboards, Google Docs, post-it notes, journaling, lists, Notion, Apple Notes app, habit trackers.

They would all work for a week, but then life would happen, or an idea would hit me when I wasn’t near my primary tool. The idea would go down in a notepad and never get transferred to Notion or vice versa.

Until you get to the point (which is where I am now) where you have every thought you’ve ever had sprinkled across every corner of my apartment/the internet.

Maaan, what to do!!? 🤪

If only we were living through a technological revolution where a man could conceptualise any system or idea possible and create it with a few simple sentences…

Ah huh! I know what I’ll do… I’ll turn to the large video storage education/entertainment centre to seek guidance.

I opened up YouTube, and this video popped right up on my feed… God bless you, algorithm!

The Solution

In the above video, Jeff Su breaks down exactly how to use Claude Cowork to automate workflows and essentially build a second brain that remembers everything relevant to your life and work and learns from itself to make tasks more manageable and output more consistent.

This is the solution. This is the centrepiece of a messy life.

A place to organise the chaos!

So, after watching it a handful of times, I opened up Claude and began tapping away.

After going back and forth with chat and co-work, we were able to flesh out the idea, build the guardrails and create a place for my brain to call home.

I now have Sav OS installed.

Somewhere to come back to every day/week to recalibrate and get my bearings. This is not the work, this is not the act of creating, but it was a pivotal first step to lay the foundation so that I can finally build the way I have always wanted to…

Chaotic. Consistent. Honest.

Problems will come and go, the planet will continue to rotate, and life will keep chugging whether we show up or not.

No one really cares what you do.

They care how you do it.

This is the very small first step, but I finally feel the how is starting to make sense—like I have some control over it, like I have some say in what it looks like.

That’s it from me this week, champs!

With gratitude,

SAV

Every week I show up here and document the real version of building something—the mess, the pivots, the small wins and the moments it finally starts to click.

Subscribe below to join me.

LESGO CHAMP!

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If you been rocking with me for a while, you may have read it… if not, you can watch the podcast episode I did on it here.

Basically, I was talking about how trying to write like every other creator on X was killing my output and my confidence. About how my story—weird, turbulent, real—was my greatest weapon and how I wasn’t using it to my advantage.

I believed I was right then. I still believe it to be true now.

Now, some of you may recall that I was talking about this idea only a couple of weeks ago—if you missed that one, you can read it here:

So why am I still having the same conversation with myself?

Why is this so hard to really get right?

The truth is, I am moving forward (slowly, but surely).

I’ve shipped a newsletter every Sunday for the first 3.5 months of the year without missing. I branched out and started creating the CHAMP CAMP content with a carousel system to bring my newsletters and ideas to IG. The podcast has been repositioned, and I am still writing raps.

The gears are turning. The jigsaw pieces are falling into place.

From the outside, it probably looks like things are moving. I’m productive, things are getting built, I’m doing “the thing” etc etc…

And it is. They are. I am.

But something has been quietly stalling underneath all of it.

My content output has stagnated since I posted about the CHAMP CAMP—and when I sat with why, the answer was uncomfortable.

I don’t always know who is supposed to be showing up.

Is it Savilian — the rapper with war stories and a body of music that still makes me feel like me?

Is it CHAMP CAMP — the stoicism and mindset platform I’ve been building and genuinely believe in?

Is it Sav — the ADHD creative journeyman just documenting his life in real time?

One man. Three lanes.

And when life gets hard (like it has recently), I feel completely paralysed trying to figure out which road to take.

So I do what most people do when they’re confused.

I stall. I second-guess. I overthink the positioning instead of just creating.

I spose the lack of mental capacity over the last month hasn’t helped.

But a moment that really didn’t do me any favours came a couple of weeks back, when a mentor figure and someone whose opinion I really respect said something that was gratifying and also completely derailing.

He told me that my music is good. That the CHAMP CAMP EP is still worth talking about and marketing. That I should be putting out more content around it.

He said, ‘man know one knows it exists, you haven’t told anyone’.

And he’s right.

Although this comment was nice to hear, it probably left me more confused than anything. Feeling like I was getting some momentum going with CHAMP CAMP, only to realise that Savilian still needs me.

Confusing amirite!!?

In my head, I’d been trying to separate the lanes. Rap over here. Stoicism over there. Give people clarity, give them context. Neat little boxes for a messy human life.

But that’s the problem… I’m not neat, my life is not easy.

My brain certainly is not orderly.

What if the things I keep trying to organise and separate are actually supposed to be one thing?

What if the niche, me, is supposed to be just that…

Me.

Identity is still holding me back.

But I am everything I need to do and everything I will ever need to talk about. My stories, my experiences, my journey are not replicable.

Getting clear on the why is the key.

Because the rap, the stoicism, the ADHD, the journeyman life—none of those are separate things. They’re all just chapters of the same story. My story.

Savilian writes about the life.

CHAMP CAMP is the philosophy behind how I live it.

Sav is just the guy doing both, in public, imperfectly, every single week.

Maybe the through-line was never the platform or the content pillar.

It was just me—documenting the craziness of my brain and life instead of performing a version of it.

I don’t have this figured out. Nowhere near.

I’m very much still in the middle of it, grinding through and trying to solve the problems that my brain presents.

But I’m done waiting until the lanes are clean before I create. The lanes might never be clean. And the audience I’m trying to reach doesn’t need clean lanes—they need an honest person showing up consistently and telling the truth.

I need to unshackle myself from needing to be a creator, and just start creating!

So that’s what I’m going to keep doing.

If you’re out there wrestling with the same thing—too many ideas, too many versions of yourself, not sure which one to lead with—just know you’re not alone.

Pick the one that’s most true. Lead with that. Build from there.

That’s it from me this week, thanks for tuning in.

LESGO CHAMP!

SAV

Every week I show up here and tell the truth about what it actually looks like to build something from scratch—the music, mindset and mess in between.

No performance. Just that real shit… that champ shit.

If this resonated, hit subscribe below.

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My internal monologue was crippling.

After many many bad decisions throughout my teens and early twenties, I was left with an inner critic that attacked my every move.

A savage operator. Relentless.

No days off from its violent and crushing assault.

I really hated myself.

Hated who I was, how I showed up, how I kept finding ways to fuck things up. That hate followed me everywhere. Into my relationships, my decisions, my creative work, and my connection to family and friends.

There was no escape.

For over a decade, I carried that weight.

Beginning The Work

In early 2020, I saw an opportunity to begin to turn the tide.

The first thing I did was start journaling.

Not because someone told me to. Because I knew that the version of myself I thought I was and the version actually showing up every day were not the same person. I needed data. Real, honest, unfiltered data.

So I documented everything I did for an entire year.

What I ate. How I moved. How I spent my time. How I spoke to myself when things went wrong.

I tracked the hours I spent drinking, making music, exercising and socialising.

Every detail was put down on paper so that it was real.

I could not run from it.

What I learned was confronting—but clarifying. I could finally see the pattern. And once I could see it, I could start to change it.

Once I had the data, I had 2 options:

1. Acknowledge and begin to make adjustments

2. Change nothing and continue living in ignorant bliss

I always believed I was meant for something more. Some level of greatness, at least in my own universe and understanding of things—so, of course, I chose the former.

From there, I began trialling things to help me fight my way back.

One of the decisions I made to help in this fight was in late 2020 when I got started on antidepressants. I started taking sertraline after a long-term bout of anxiety started taking its toll.

I knew this was not going to be a permanent solution, but I believed it could assist me in my climb back, and it did.

Another (hugely pivotal) thing that I tried was hypnotherapy.

After hearing about the benefits years earlier from my brother Dave, I had been curious to try it, but never felt quite ready, however the therapist I was seeing at the time had suggested a hypno friend of hers, and I knew I had to take the opportunity.

So I booked a session and put myself on the hook.

The Hypnotherapist

Before I walked in, I spoke to Dave to get an idea of what I was walking into—as I said, he had done it a few years earlier and knew what to expect.

He gave me one piece of incredibly potent advice:

I thought deeply about that one thing. So many things needed to change…

• Stop lying

• Stop drinking

• Stop gambling

• What I wanted to be

• What I didn’t want to be

• What kind of man would make me proud

But there was one thing that came out on top. One idea that needed to change above all else. So when the hypnotherapist asked me what I wanted to work on, I didn’t overthink it:

“I want my inner voice to be kind.”

That was it. Just six words.

I lay back as she began talking and felt myself drift into a sleep.

To this day, I cannot explain what happened in that room. I don’t understand the science of it. All I know is that I closed my eyes, and when I woke up, something had shifted. It wasn’t a dramatic change, but something inside me was different.

I slowly learned how to be kind to myself.

The voice inside my head, the inner critic, had begun taking days off. The barrage of hate and spite began slowing down.

Now, 4 years on, I live harmoniously with that voice as my friend.

I still make mistakes. Plenty of them.

Like heaaaaapppss of them!!

But I’m no longer at war with myself when I do.

Don’t Regret This

A while back, I saw a conversation that echoed my thoughts.

Scott Galloway (author and entrepreneur) was on Chris Williamson’s podcast talking about life, regret, and financial freedom.

In the section on Forgiving yourself when you fall short, Scott talks about a friend of his who interviewed people in the last stages of life—specifically, what people say when they’re at the end of their life, looking back.

One of the most common things they wish?

That they had been less hard on themselves.

Not that they’d worked harder. Not that they’d made more money or built bigger things or had more fun.

Just less hard on themselves.

And I have thought about that ever since.

Because here’s the truth—you are the person that you have to spend most of your life with, heck, maybe even all of it. You are going to fall short. Repeatedly. You’re going to make bad calls, miss the mark, say the wrong thing, and choose the wrong path.

That’s called being human.

The question is: what voice do you choose to meet those moments with?

A Final Note from A Stoic

A quote from Seneca has been a big part of my journey toward self-improvement in this regard. In his writings titled Letters From a Stoic, he says:

He wasn’t talking about self-help, morning routines or optimisation.

He was talking about something far more radical—the decision to stop treating yourself like the enemy.

I’m still working on it. I still fuck up. I still make mistakes. Some days, I get it very wrong. But I am no longer spiteful in my reflections. When I make a mistake, I catch myself and gently chuckle before exclaiming, “Oh, Matt you silly man”.

I’m kind. I understand I am flawed, and I do not run from it.

That one shift has changed more about my life than any habit, any strategy, or any external result ever has. Because I now enjoy being me, I enjoy living in my own head and body.

So wherever you’re at right now, be kind to yourself while you do the work.

Silence the inner critic.

They are not your friend.

Just remnants of a person you used to be in a life you do not live anymore.

Another zinger from Seneca to conclude…

“Wherever there is a human being, there is an opportunity for kindness.”

And that includes you!

Alright, that’s it from me this week, gang. See you next week!

👊 LESGO CHAMP!

SAV

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Every week, I write about the unglamorous, honest, sometimes uncomfortable work of becoming who you’re trying to be. No motivational BS, just real talk from someone still in the middle of the fight for self-respect.

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My journey toward self-discovery and self-belief started in early 2020.

COVID had set in, we were asked to stay at home, and I finally had the opportunity to begin building habits that I had been putting off.

I got really good at the habits.

Like, really good!

My morning routine for a solid 2-3 years looked like this:

• 7am - Alarm goes off, I lie there for a few minutes negotiating with myself and eventually drag myself out of bed and down to the kitchen

• 715am - Take my time preparing a coffee whilst listening to some pump up music

• 730am - Journal for 20 minutes, practice gratitude and do some reading (eg. think about who I was and who I wanted to be)

• 830am - Listen to a podcast while making brekky

• 9am - Eat slowly, check my phone, then have a shower

• 945am - Sit at my computer and eventually begin to start doing any real work

It was usually 3 hours before I was doing anything that could be considered actually productive.

I felt productive, I felt like I was doing important work.

What I was doing was something different; in a sense, it was some sort of productive procrastination, aka busy work.

This work was important for where I was at, it was a stepping stone.

But I was using so much of my mental capacity every single day on things that were not (in the long run) going to move the needle.

I understand that this was a phase. A very important phase of transition. From ignoring all of these elements of my identity for so long, to finally acknowledging my shortcomings and getting real with who I was.

But in a way, it quickly became a new form of avoidance.

Because the thing that I actually needed, the thing that was missing, was to actually ship the work.

Letting my creations out—into the real world!

That all changed after watching a video from Alex Hormozi.

In the video, Hormozi talks about his morning routine—or more accurately, his anti-routine.

He starts the video in true Hormozi fashion…

“I’m probably gonna piss a lot of people off with this video”

He then goes on to talk about the importance of making the main thing, the main thing. The man behind $100M+ in business revenue wakes up at 5am, drinks a coffee, and works. That’s it. No cold plunge. No 47-step ritual. No hour of journaling before a single dollar gets made.

His argument was simple, and it hit me like a freight train:

Most “morning routines” are habits millionaires formed after they got rich. Not the reason they got rich.

These habits are a luxury, not the lever-pulling priorities.

The cold plunge, the gratitude practice, the elaborate breakfast—these are rewards that successful people added to their lives once the work was already done. The algorithm of Instagram reverse-engineered them and sold them back to us as the path to success.

At the time, I thought I needed these habits, and I don’t regret them, but I now see that doing the hard work was always the answer.

The Solution: Zero Gap Mornings

Hormozi calls it minimising the gap between waking up and working. I call it the Zero Gap Morning. Here’s how it actually works in practice:

Step 1 — Identify Your Lever Before you go to sleep, know exactly what the single highest-leverage task is for tomorrow. The one thing that, if done, moves everything else. For me, it’s writing. For you, it might be creating content, sending pitches, or building something. If you’re an athlete, it could be training. If you’re a trader, it could be studying tape.

Step 2 — Wake and Engage The moment your alarm goes off, you have a 5-minute window before your brain starts negotiating. Don’t give it a chance. Me personally, I don’t even make the coffee until I have written for an hour, but I’ll leave this up to you. Whatever you go with, have the work in front of you and pull the trigger… zero preamble. You don’t get ready to work; you just work.

Step 3 — Protect the Block These first 2-3 hours of the day mean everything. No phone checks, no socials, no emails. This is your deep work fortress. The world will still be there at 12pm. Your best thinking happens here, when your mental capacity is at its highest—do not trade this time for anything, especially notifications.

Step 4 — Let the Work Earn the Ritual Here’s the reframe. I still journal. I still move my body. I still have slow mornings sometimes. But now they come after the lever has been pulled. The ritual is the reward, not the prerequisite. The work earns my self-respect, the rituals help refine it.

What This Looks Like For Me Now

I’m not going to pretend I nail this every day. I don’t.

But the mornings I do? I look up, and it’s 8am, and I’ve already written 1,000 words, or drafted three carousel concepts, or mapped out a podcast episode, or scheduled a week of threads posts.

That feeling has no comparison.

Before the day has even fully started, I have won. I have beaten down the voices that tell me to avoid the hard stuff. I have taken control.

I originally wrote this newsletter in 2023. On that morning, I was slightly hungover, hadn’t showered, and hadn’t eaten. I just opened the laptop and wrote. It became one of the pieces I’m most proud of.

That one moment told me everything I needed to know about where the magic actually lives.

It doesn’t live in the ritual.

It lives in the act of showing up before you feel ready.

Final Thoughts

Your morning routine isn’t broken. Your relationship with it might be.

Ask yourself honestly: is your morning ritual fuelling your most important work, or replacing it?

If you wake up and the first 90 minutes of your day is simply setting up, you are not preparing for the game. You are delaying it.

The champion version of you doesn’t need a perfect morning to perform.

They just need to show up and make themselves proud!

Until next week, champs!

SAV

If this hit different, forward it to one person who needs to hear it. And if someone forwarded this to you—welcome to CHAMP CAMP. Subscribe below, and I’ll see you next Sunday.

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Not just feel. Or react.

To actually stop and ask:

“What does this look like in six months?”

“How do I feel about this when the dust settles?”

I call it a skill because I’ve had to build it from scratch. It didn’t come naturally. It came from enough bad decisions stacking up until I had no choice but to do something different.

Before we get deep, some real talk…

I haven’t mastered this, not even close. I probably never will.

But the stats are in, and the number of bad decisions I’m making has dropped. A lot. And that’s where I’m speaking from. Not from the guy who has it figured out. From the guy who knows where he’s been and is paying close attention to where he’s going.

Since as early as I could remember, my feedback loop looked like this:

For years, I lived here; most people never escape it.

Pulled by emotion, driven by reaction, dealing with the fallout somewhere down the track. And the wild part is that it doesn’t always feel wrong in the moment. Sometimes it feels like instinct. Sometimes it feels like courage.

There’s a difference between trusting your gut and being a slave to it.

That difference took me years to learn.

The old software took me places. I met great people, had wild experiences and learned a lot about myself and the world around me. No regrets there.

But it was flawed from the jump—and a reboot had been long overdue.

In early 2023, I started seeing things differently.

I had come to a crossroad after a long-term relationship had fallen apart, and I was essentially starting again at the tender age of 33.

A few small habits started stacking up:

1. Regular combat sports training

2. Hard physical exercise

3. Showing up creatively

All of these started building my self-belief.

With growing confidence and a much more positive internal monologue, I started questioning things more:

“What if I don’t go out tonight?“

“What if I don’t waste energy on this girl?”

“What if I just do the hard work that I told myself I would do?”

These questions created space, a space that I was not familiar with. That space allowed me to question things, and those questions allowed me to make informed decisions.

The upgraded loop looks like this:

Simple. Not easy.

Looks good on paper, but the real world is where the magic happens.

The updated software only works when something with actual stakes lands in front of you. A real choice. Real consequences.

Instead of diving in, you run the process.

You sit with it. And that pause does two things every time:

1. It gives you options. When you’re not locked into your first reaction, you see angles you’d normally miss.

2. It creates space. Room to make the right call instead of what feels right.

Let me give you two real examples.

Scenario 1

I start training at a gym close to home. Community gym, familiar faces, a space I genuinely value.

I get talking to a woman who captures my attention.

Old Sav dives straight in. Full send. Deal with whatever comes later.

New Sav runs the process.

When I actually sit with it, the answer is pretty clear. The upside is real, but so is the downside. This place matters too much to me to risk making it complicated. A friendship is the better play here, long-term.

So I gave myself enough distance to make the right call. Zero regrets.

Scenario 2

Someone I respect pulls me aside, compliments my work and offers me an opportunity to work inside their vision.

I’m flattered. Old Sav shakes hands before they finish the sentence.

“I’m valued, I’m wanted!! Thank you so much… now let me give up on my dreams to help you chase yours.”

New Sav runs the process.

When I picture what this actually looks like six months down the track, the answer comes up fast.

I need to prioritise myself. My future self is worth more right now.

So I said no. Respectfully, gratefully, but no.

In both cases, old Sav would’ve created complications.

Acted too fast, got it wrong—saying yes to things that pulled him away from the life he’s trying to build.

The result was always a sort of sadness.

An accumulation of bad decisions and a slow drift away from yourself, from things that matter.

That’s what you pay for operating with a short thought-to-action loop.

So before you act, pause. Run your own version of the process. Begin with the end in mind, because when you get there, you’ll be glad you did.

That’s it from me this week, gang.

LESGO CHAMP 👊

SAV

If this landed for you, hit subscribe below. Every week I write about the things that actually matter—mindset, identity, discipline and the unglamorous work of becoming who you’re trying to be.

No fluff. No hacks. Just real talk from someone in the trenches with you.

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If you haven’t done so yet, I would love for you to go check out the Instagram here.

At the tender age of 37, it seems a little strange/scary to be pivoting (ever so gently) away from the only thing I have built success with (Savilian).

It has been a little taxing and stressful.

But it has been exciting, because I know that what I am building here is guaranteed to last the rest of my life.

Due to the burden of this challenge (one that I asked for), I decided to ask for help.

I reached out to a buddy of mine who is a creative professional with many years of experience in branding, designing, UX/UI, and just being generally creative. This was a monumental change, and I needed some human oversight (Claude is not enough).

He sent me 5 questions to ponder on at this moment.

Questions to help me think about what it is that I am trying to achieve in this moment, that will shape the future of both voices.

So, typically, I decided to turn them into content.

Doing so would ensure I got it done in a timely manner, but also allowed me to open up with my responses, and hopefully give you some ideas, too.

Here are my answers.

Question 1

What problem are you hoping to solve by separating the visual identities of Sav/Savilian and Matt Savelberg?

Right now, I am posting everything under one umbrella.

• Music

• Podcasting

• Rap content

• Frameworks

• Stoic content

• Mental health

• Self-improvement

All of the above are posted and communicated as Savilian.

Savilian is a rapper who keeps it real and tells stories. He is a raw entertainer.

Matt Savelberg is a thinker/teacher who practices Stoicism, thinks about mindset and loves to write about life’s challenges.

The 2 identities have very different content and attract different people.

Rap fans + friends and family don’t want to have Stoic essays and reels about self-improvement thrust upon them, and vice versa.

Mixing them creates noise, confuses the algorithm and stunts growth.

This separation is purely to give both voices room to breathe, allowing me to freely post both types of content without affecting the core idea of the page/brand.

The change is to enable clarity, refine direction and plan for growth.

Question 2

How separate should these two identities feel to the audience?

Very different in terms of branding and types of content, not at all different in terms of authenticity and values.

Savilian: darker colours and themes, raw, using #fa5807 as brand accent—more photo content, rap only reels (no educational content or podcast clips). It’s all about me and my journey as a lifelong rapper and performer.

Matt Savelberg: lighter and more inviting, using #c0a0ff as brand accent—carousels, educational reels, brand-centric memes.

They know it is the same guy, but now the content is more consistent across the page/channels. They know what they’re signing up for.

Different colour palettes, content pillars, themes, and branding, same authenticity.

Question 3

How would you describe the personality of each identity in 3–5 words?

Savilian

1. Raw

2. Resilient

3. Courageous

Matt Savelberg

1. Stoic

2. Fearless

3. Empathetic

Savilian creates for the love of the game; he keeps it real but loves to show the work that he’s still here doing. Matt Savelberg communicates, unpacks and solves problems. He loves to think deeply, notice things and share his thoughts.

Savilian shows. Matt Savelberg tells.

Question 4

Describe the average audience avatar for each project (in a nutshell).

Savilian

People who are fans of me, whether they are people I have met, performed with or collaborated with. They are my friends and family, and random stragglers I have encountered on my path.

Savilian/Sav is my core identity, a rapper who has overcome a lifetime of self-doubt to be here creating.

They are also fans of rap.

I want to be discovered by new fans. I want my music to be heard by those who haven’t heard it yet. I want the stories to be understood and cherished (although this is not a priority).

Matt Savelberg

This content is a personal brand, a vessel for me to share the way I think and help people just behind me to get through life’s challenges. This is for people in their 20s-40s who are either rebuilding, starting something or levelling up.

Ideally, I want this to become a movement and potentially a business.

These are tools, frameworks, products and ideas to help people become the highest version of themselves, let go of fear and learn to live the good life.

Question 5

What does a successful redesign look like (in terms of metrics), and what changes?

There are a few ideal goals/outcomes:

1. Remove the internal block from creating—right now if I want to post, there is an internal tension between rap vs teacher. I want to be able to create freely for Matt Savelberg without worrying about the Savilian brand. I want the freedom to ship work daily.

2. Grow my Substack to 1000 subscribers by the end of 2026—this is really hard at present due to the discoverability limitations from Substack, having separate brands will attract the right type of audience and increase the likelihood of reading my writing.

3. Content shared more easily—I want my ideas to be shareworthy, I want people to get enjoyment and glean insights from the way I see the world, this can only happen if the messaging is clearer and more targeted.

4. Monetise my creations—asking for money for the things I build has always been difficult. For example, I have 250 gratitude journals just sitting in boxes because it felt weird pushing them on a rap page. Removing that barrier will allow me to create things with purpose and get them into the hands of people who need them without worrying about contaminating my friends, family, fans and supporters. Having this clarity will allow me to more actively pursue turning my creations into a supplementary source of income eventually.

5. Help people—the blockages I have placed on myself from not being clear on my brand and content strategy, lead me to post less and therefore reduce any chance of my writing/products reaching the people that need it. There’s a lot of fear and pain in the world, and I believe I can help some people overcome their fears and push through their pain through my writing, podcasting and content.

I do not wish to stop posting as Savilian (because I do have an album planned for this year), but I do want to give both voices space to find their audience.

Savilian will be a lot freer and more casual. Updating fans and followers on the new music I am creating, showing them the process of making new music and just posting what I want, when I want.

Matt Savelberg will be posting consistently, building systems and optimising for growth and impact.

Alright, that’s a wrap!

These questions were meant to help my mate understand my brand.

They ended up helping me understand myself.

If you’re in the same boat, trying to work through who you are and how you want to show up in the world, steal these questions and try them for yourself.

Ask the questions. Write the answers. See what comes up.

LESGO CHAMP!

SAV

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My content output has been consistent—I was getting reps in!

I’ve done everything, tried everything, published many (many) things in every format across all the channels.

• 2 Rap projects

• 6 quality music vids

• 7 content pages

• 20+ digital/physical products

• 80+ newsletters/articles

• 100s of reels/short content

• 150+ podcasts

And almost nobody saw any of them.

Every one of my channels has stalled at the same number for 3 years. Every project I’ve released has been heard by a small, important, but small group of close associates and friends. Video views top out at 30 views, X posts get no engagement, and the 100s of hours I’ve spent building digital products have amounted to a total of 6 sales over 4 years.

Showing up under these circumstances is frustrating.

I allow myself to become frustrated momentarily, but that is not going to fix the problem. So I use the frustration as fuel to help propel me toward a solution.

It’s easy to blame external factors.

Bad timing…

The algorithm…

Short attention spans…

An uneducated audience…

But I don’t, so I do as Marcus would do—I look within.

People didn’t know what to connect to because I never gave them clarity.

I was a rapper posting stoicism carousels. A podcaster dropping MMA commentary. A mindset creator releasing music. All through the same channel, under the same name, with no clear signal about who it was for or what I stood for.

Content is not the problem. Creating is not the bottleneck.

Clarity is.

The world is changing fast—clarity is no longer optional

So if you haven’t read the news lately, there is a thing called AI floating around.

It’s not coming—it’s here, and it’s reshaping how content is created, distributed and consumed. The barrier to entry has never been lower. Quality, specificity, value and clarity are now at a premium, and the creators who avoid these will perish.

Generalists are exposed right now, but not in the way that you think.

Being a multifaceted creator is a real benefit because you can now use AI to fill the gaps that would’ve required big spend to deliver.

The defining factor here—you have to have a clear value proposition and identity!

I’ve spent years getting my reps in—and I don’t regret a single one. Those reps taught me that I am someone who shows up and does the work. But reps without direction are just motion. I want movement. I want to build something that actually reaches people and improves their lives.

So I made a decision. This is the year I master something.

And you guys are the first to hear about it…

One final bit of preamble

I’ve started MMA content pages, faceless Stoicism channels, music-based communities, and tried to combine them into one and everything in between.

I’ve picked up momentum every time.

And just when I started getting momentum… I would pivot.

This can be put down to several factors: fear, shiny object syndrome, ADHD, etc…

But really, it was a lack of clarity and a shortage of discipline.

So before making this decision, I had to step back and really think about things from a bird's-eye view. I had to weigh up who I am now and where my life is placed, what I have capacity for, as well as who I want to be in 5 years from now.

So I examined the options one by one:

1. Rap music

   1. Making rap music is something I will never stop doing; I’ve been releasing music for 20 years, it is a part of my identity, but can I talk about it every day for the next 5 years? Can I relate to the young guy coming up? Do I want to be a famous rapper? Probably not.

2. MMA/UFC

   1. MMA is something that I love and enjoy creating content around/chatting about frequently, but for the next 5 years? Can I be the MMA guy? Do I have an edge here? Probably not.

3. Entrepreneurship/Sales

   1. Something I do find fascinating from time to time, pulling on the threads of the mindset required to succeed in certain settings and what they can tell us about life. I believe I can provide some value here, but do I want to be known for this? Can I be an expert in this? Probably not.

4. Gratitude

   1. Ok, we are getting a little warmer here! A powerful tool that I have used and talked about extensively over the last 5 years. Do I believe I could have an edge here? Yes, actually. But do I believe that it is something I can base a brand/identity around and build content around every day for the next 5 years? Probably not.

5. Stoicism

   1. Ok, this is by far the warmest we have been. Stoicism is unique; it is misunderstood, it is powerful, and I could literally make content about it til the cows come home. I could definitely have an edge in Australia, so it is ticking a lot of the boxes. But do I have a fresh enough angle? Do I feel confident enough leaning on the Stoics as the base of my content every day? Do I want to be known solely for Stoicism (eg. Ryan Holiday)? Probably not.

After examining all possible trajectories and consulting my buddy Claudius Loopius Maximus (aka Claude), I landed on an idea.

And here it is…

CHAMP CAMP…

CHAMP CAMP is not only the name of my previous rap project (listen here), but it is also a powerful learning tool that I have borrowed from the MMA world.

In the fight game, the champ camp is the training camp you undertake in the months leading up to becoming a world champion. Fighters go through hell to leave no stone unturned, and it’s their job to drag themselves into the deep end to ensure they can still swim when shit hits the fan.

This is the point.

CHAMP CAMP is similar in that we choose the pain, we choose the hard.

So many of life’s challenges are chosen for us, but now we are choosing to wade out into the deep end with no assurance of safety, and in the process, revealing who we really are in preparation to become the champion of our own lives.

Not the highlight reel version that overpromises.

The 5 am version that over-delivers.

The version where you’re sitting with discomfort, but doing the work anyway.

Choosing discipline and conviction when motivation and hope have packed their bags and left the building. That’s where champions are made — not in the fight, but in the preparation.

This intersection of MMA, mindset, my grinding rap journey, stoicism and self-improvement is where I thrive.

What the rebrand looks like

Every week, from now until the end of time (or I see another shiny object), I’ll bring you one piece of content worth your time:

• The podcast — formerly The Sav Show, will be rebranding as CHAMP CAMP. Same honesty, same conversations, sharper focus. One life lesson or powerful conversation, every Wednesday evening on my new YouTube channel, or anywhere you can get podcasts.

• This newsletter — where I go deeper. The thinking behind the podcast. Frameworks you can apply this week. Stories from the journey, including the parts that didn’t go to plan.

• The socials — if you do not mind giving the new page a follow @champcampau for daily doses of stoicism, gratitude and wtf moments.

Everything feeds one goal > sharing raw takes and lessons in order to help you in your own training.

Final thoughts...

Ima keep it G right quick…

I want to build an audience that engages with this work. I want this brand, these channels, to grow. I want to impact the lives of people who have been too afraid to get out of their own way.

I haven’t got it all figured out, far from it, but I know the version of me from 5 years ago could have benefited from someone like the current version of me.

And that’s why I’m going all in.

Don’t worry, Savilian is not going anywhere! I make rap music, that’s what I do, probably until I’m old and wearing an adult diaper, but it’s time for an adjustment.

This is me fixing the positioning.

This is me getting clarity.

Whether you came here for my rap journey or trading content, been here from the start of The Sav Show or even Slap Happy—thank you! You were early. Stick around, we just getting warmed up, baby!

If you’re new—welcome to the camp. You showed up at the right time.

Training starts now.

Matt Savelberg | The People’s Champ

If this resonated with you at all—subscribe to get every newsletter delivered straight to your inbox. One week at a time, one rep at a time.

Join the camp at champcamp.substack.com 👇

Subscribe now

If you want to go deeper, the CHAMP CAMP Podcast drops every week—find it on YouTube, Spotify and Apple Podcasts.

LESGO CHAMP!

SAV

Not your job. Not your relationships. Not your body or your habits or your goals.

Just you. Alone. Reduced to nothing.

James Van Der Beek faced that reality—and what he discovered on the other side of losing everything is incredibly powerful.

I haven’t stopped thinking about it…

The Video

JVDB was an international sex symbol in the early 2000s.

An American actor who captivated the attention of teenage girls around the world in his roles on various adolescent dramas.

He played a hunky heartthrob called Dawson on the very popular teenage romantic drama series Dawson’s Creek. This role saw him catapult into stardom and saw him gain international appeal. After that concluded in 2003, his Hollywood trajectory continued—scoring roles in other TV series and plenty of films as well.

I never watched Dawson’s Creek or followed VDB’s career, but everyone from my generation knew who he was.

I hadn’t thought about him in over 20 years… until last week.

A video was sent to me by my darling Mother. In the video, VDB is talking to his back phone camera in a very intimate/raw POV style piece of content.

He goes on to say that he had been fighting cancer, and during this fight (and the ensuing tidal wave of emotions), he had spent a lot of time thinking about his identity and the purpose of his life.

He talked about how when you’re sick and clinging to life, nothing matters. All your roles/ideas/dreams and identifying features are stripped away:

• Father

• Husband

• Provider

• Steward of his land

All stripped away as he fought for life.

Unable to fulfil his duties or play the roles assigned to him, he was faced with a question…

After meditating on that question, the answer came to him…

“I am worthy of God’s love, simply because I exist… and if I am worthy of God’s love, shouldn’t I be worthy of my own?”

After that, he permits listeners to remove the word "God" if that, in some way, triggers them and detracts from the meaning. Reiterating that the core concept of “I am worthy of love” still holds.

This video was posted on 9th March 2025, when he was on the road to recovery.

He had a sense of optimism as he slowly fought his way back from a life-threatening illness and pondered life’s big questions.

Sadly, he passed away on 11th February 2026.

Watch the video below.

The Conversation

I was having dinner with a female friend recently (a sneaky little Nandos run on a Tuesday night, mind you), when she revealed a few concerns she was working through that day.

She had been flat all day and was struggling to process the feelings:

• Burnt out

• Lacking motivation

• Not having the energy to train

• Beating herself up for things out of her control

I acknowledged her feelings and gave her my full attention.

We talked about the underlying motivation behind the feelings and what actions she had at her disposal to combat them, and discussed a few practical ideas based on the wiring of her brain.

Like 99% of human beings, she has a strong internal motor and positive self-talk when things are going well, but not as strong when life gets shaky.

A common hurdle (and the one that mostly triggered today’s feelings) looks like this:

1. Long work day

2. Finish work late, exhausted

3. Takes a moment to decompress

4. Doomscroll for quick dopamine/mental break

5. Spend too long on phone due to its addictive nature

6. Put off the important task (gym) for long enough until its too late

7. Beat herself up because she avoided the task she knew would bring real joy

This is a very VERY human cycle that we are increasingly finding ourselves caught in.

She was overworked, burnt out and needed some relief.

But the catastrophising on the back of this very human behaviour is not at all helpful, leading to increased negative self-talk and a feeling of failure. Noticing through her language, I saw that there was a clear link between her actions and her self-esteem, so I began probing…

“You’re upset with yourself because you didn’t go to the gym?”

“Yes”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what I do”

“Why?”

“Because if I don’t go, I don’t feel like myself”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve done it for so long, it’s part of my identity”

“And if the gym were taken away, would you still have an identity?”

“Yes, because I have work and other hobbies”

“And if they were taken away?”

“Then I wouldn’t be much”

“Ok, what if you had more gym, better work, more money and more hobbies, would you have more identity or be happier?”

I think you can see the point I was getting at.

We didn’t reach a resolution or clear answer, but we had a very lovely conversation, talking openly and honestly about what it means to have nothing and still be everything.

The Question

Jimmy VDB posed a truly remarkable question as one of his final acts on Earth.

When everything is stripped away, when my responsibilities have faded, when I am reduced to nothing but an infinite soul, wrapped in a temporary vessel, traversing my final moments on this plane, what am I?

After you strip everything away…

• Status

• Job title

• Relationships

• Sexual orientation

• Identifying features

• The several roles you play

• All your knowledge and wealth

Who are you? Really.

My friend had clearly tied too much of her ‘self’ to her outputs and roles.

• Gym goer

• Hard worker

• Loving partner

• Budding creative

• Responsible adult

When any of these were not aligned, it rocked her.

I tried to remind her that this negative feedback loop is normal, but not helpful, and certainly not permanent.

My question to her, as is my question to you…

Without your worldly possessions, friends, family, hopes and dreams, who are you?

What are you?

Nobody has a clean answer to this question. Not me, not VDB, not your most enlightened friend.

But the people who sit with it — really sit with it — live differently.

A certain weight gets lifted.

I guess.

If you have an answer, I would love to read them—simply reply to this email and share it with me (I read them all).

Thanks for reading!

With gratitude,

SAV

If you’re trying to rebuild yourself—financially, creatively, emotionally, or physically—you’re in the right place.

I write here to document the process honestly, not perfectly.

Subscribe if you want real reflections, practical frameworks, and reminders that life can be hard, but you’re harder!

LESGO CHAMP!

If you really want to support me, there’s 3 other ways to do that:

1. Purchase the Champ Camp EP: My latest EP is out now and you can purchase it here. I poured my soul into this and I look forward to everyone hearing it.

2. Follow me on Youtube: All my podcasts, interviews, music videos and a whole heap more, all in one place.

3. Lil Gratitude Journal: My gratitude journal has been carefully designed for the busy modern-day creative/entrepreneur. It’s efficient, effective and affordable (and makes for a great gift).

After 9 months of hitting target and putting up big numbers, I was getting worse, so I did something crazy: I volunteered to leave the safety of an elite campaign.

No pipeline.

No fund knowledge.

No sales methodology.

Week one nearly broke me—by week four, I had unlocked a newfound confidence.

In December 2024, I started a new career.

I started a role in sales.

I spent the first 9 months of 2025 in a relatively easy campaign.

The role was technically private health sales, but there wasn’t a lot of sales methodology at play; most people in the office knew it was more like order taking.

Order taking because you didn’t really have to build value.

You didn’t really have to sell. The campaign sold itself.

The fund I was representing had everything:

• Exclusivity

• Great brand

• Not for profit

• Really well priced

• Amazing products

• High levels of trust

There was little to no downside. So when you got on the phone with a potential customer, it was your sale to lose.

The prospects wanted to be a part of the fund—they sold themselves.

Hence, order taking.

Sure, our targets were higher than other campaigns in the company. Expectations were higher, too. But regardless of how high the target was, it never seemed high enough to really make me stress.

The brand, products and price were just so good.

Now you might be thinking ‘Sav, this sounds amazing’…

And you would be right.

But for a guy less than 12 months into a career in sales, the work was too easy. With no solid foundation in the art of value building and proper selling, I slowly became soft.

The results were still good.

I never missed target. I worked my butt off and was getting paid well.

But I knew it wasn’t right, or sustainable.

My calls had little to no structure, and I didn’t feel like I was improving as a sales agent and evolving as a private health expert.

So when a team meeting was called around month nine, to discuss the future of the company and certain campaigns, it was announced that my campaign would be slimming down to a skeleton staff.

My results had already stalled over the previous 4-6 weeks.

I was burning out a little and needed a fresh start.

I saw the writing on the wall and knew that I needed to conquer a new frontier, whilst venturing back onto an old frontier.

My own self-belief.

So I did the unthinkable. I put my hand up and volunteered to leave the safety of the previous campaign in search of a test.

New campaign.

New target.

Back into the broker space, which was infinitely harder and basically needing to relearn everything.

I tried not to see this as a step backward, but as a step forward.

A challenge I had to undertake if I wanted to improve.

My final month in the previous campaign concluded at the end of September, and by October 1st, I was dialling in the broker space again.

Let me tell you…

It. Was. Rough!

• No pipeline

• No fund knowledge

• No structure to my calls

• No objection handling skills

• No sales!

After 2 weeks in the new campaign, I was averaging 1.2 sales per day, when previously I was used to 3-5 sales per day. Hitting target was something I had come to expect, and it was looking more and more likely that I would not hit this month.

With a trip to Hong Kong booked for the end of the year and other external pressures mounting, the panic began to set in.

Around the beginning of week 3, things started to change.

Momentum started shifting.

I was getting coaching from my sales manager, putting in longer hours and starting to get a feel for the whole process. My fund knowledge was increasing, and my pipeline management was tightening up.

By the close of week 3, I had put myself within firing range. My target was going to be extremely hard to hit—but not impossible.

What started as 2.63 sales per day had ballooned to needing 6 SPD.

Time to activate CHAMP ENERGY!

For the last week, I kept it simple, real simple…

I knew if I just hit these 4 markers every day, then I would come out of the last week and the month feeling proud of my effort:

1. Wake up and get an early win

An early win outside of my work hours would help me build confidence and momentum by the time I sat down at the screen.

It didn’t matter what it was:

• Reading

• Journaling

• Breath work

• Some life admin

• A walk with my girl

• Working on content

• Writing my newsletter

Just something to set me up for success and feel a sense of achievement before clocking in for the day.

2. Dial as hard as humanly possible

Once I got to the screen, it was all about productivity.

Hit the ground running and don’t look up until you had set a solid foundation for the day.

• Good quotes

• Good conversations

• Hopefully some sales

• No breaks in the first 4 hours

Dialling hard requires you to get scrappy.

Efficiency over everything.

Make a sale > straight into another call.

The goal was to keep stacking up numbers throughout the day and let the volume do the talking for me.

1. Talk time

2. Good quotes

3. And of course, sales

Dialling hard also requires a keener attention to detail around real prospects vs tyrekickers (time wasters).

Every minute and every conversation counted.

3. Make myself proud

Amongst all the final week craziness, it was still imperative that I maintained my self-respect at all times.

Be stern, but don’t be rude.

Go hard, but don’t get sloppy.

Get the sale, but do it ethically.

When pressure is on, that is where you get to see the real you.

My job was to make sales, but my purpose is to always act in accordance with my principles—and to be like the boxer who never puts down his weapons.

4. Rest and recover

This was arguably the most important part.

Poor sleep leads to a lack of energy and concentration, which snowballs into worsening results and a lack of productivity if not managed.

At the end of each day, I wrecked.

• Little movement

• 100s of conversations

• 12+ hours on the phone

After work, I kept it simple… like, real simple!

Go for a walk > hit the sauna for 20 mins > eat something > kiss my girl goodnight > get to sleep as early as possible.

That was it.

This is all I had the capacity for, because tomorrow I had to do it all again.

The model for the application of your principles is the boxer rather than the gladiator. The gladiator puts down or takes up the sword he uses, but the boxer always has his hands and needs only to clench them into fists.
— Marcus Aurelius

That final week was brutal… by 8 pm on the final night, I was shaking—my nervous system was in overload.

But…

I did it! I hit my target!

I didn’t give up, I put my head down, and I got it done.

Hitting target meant I was going to get paid commission, which, of course, is nice. It also meant that my pivot into this new campaign validated the success of the previous 9 months as not entirely luck/campaign.

Most importantly, though—it unlocked a newfound self-belief.

Despite what the market was doing…

Despite what adjustments I had to make…

And against the odds…

I was able to work hard, stick to the process and get the result.

Hitting target felt good.

But what it gave me was bigger than commission—it gave me proof. Proof that I could adapt, grind, and come out the other side without compromising how I operate.

This next level of self-belief would buoy me as I entered the quieter months of the year (Oct-Jan), and give me the perfect base for a big run at the most profitable months of the year (Mar-Jun).

If this landed, reply and tell me where your hard campaign is right now.

I read every one.

With gratitude,

SAV

If you’re trying to rebuild yourself—financially, creatively, emotionally, or physically—you’re in the right place.

I write here to document the process honestly, not perfectly.

Subscribe if you want real reflections, practical frameworks, and reminders that life can be hard, but you’re harder!

LESGO CHAMP!

Subscribe now

If you really want to support me, there’s 3 other ways to do that:

1. Purchase the Champ Camp EP: My latest EP is out now and you can purchase it here. I poured my soul into this and I look forward to everyone hearing it.

2. Follow me on Youtube: All my podcasts, interviews, music videos and a whole heap more, all in one place.

3. Lil Gratitude Journal: My gratitude journal has been carefully designed for the busy modern-day creative/entrepreneur. It’s efficient, effective and affordable (and makes for a great gift).

There’s no point.

Over the years, I’ve had many pages reach out to me, but the experience of opening this spam folder has been nothing short of embarrassing—it’s a constant cycle of spammers, dodgy salespeople or people acting genuine only to be spammers/dodgy salespeople.

These people feed into the validation we all seek and then act as if they value you, only to turn around 10 minutes later and ask to be paid for their help.

It never ends.

So I stopped opening my requests.

Then, out of nowhere and probably out of boredom, I decided to open them.

I saw a message that appeared like all the others…

• Replying to my story

• Not at all recognisable

• Leading with congratulations

I almost disregarded it as spam because my goldfish brain doesn’t have time for comprehension.

Then I reread it…

I couldn’t believe it… I didn’t believe it.

I replied in cautionary disbelief:

He told me that he had been weighing up a big life decision and was at a crossroads—he received advice from friends and family, but then took to Google to look for further feedback and guidance.

After punching in testimonial of cold-call salesperson, my newsletter popped up!

He clicked the link, read the thing, and became inspired.

Not only did my writing.

He took some wisdom from it, acted on what I wrote about and then found me on Instagram to thank me for my work.

We went back and forth on Instagram over a few days.

He told me that he had taken my advice and gone headfirst into the unknown—trusting the universe and the scary opportunity he had been presented.

The joy of receiving a message like that from a stranger is unmatched.

You see, I make a lot of stuff…

Like — a lot — a lot of stuff!

And to be honest, I don’t know if anyone reads/listens to any of it, so it is nice to know when someone does.

Which brings me to my 2 takeaways from this message:

#1 - Don’t stop sharing your creations

If you make stuff, do not stop.

And if you haven’t started yet, that’s ok… start now!

There are so many people in the world, and in some random pocket of some random country, someone needs to hear exactly what YOU have to say.

Someone who is lost needs to hear your story.

Someone who is battling depression or addiction needs to know it is possible to win.

Don’t overthink.

You don’t need to:

• Have a personal brand

• Generate a wage or make any money

• Have an audience or heaps of followers

You do need to be courageous!

You do need to start.

You just need to create… and never, ever, stop!

#2 - Normalise telling people they’re valued

This guy consumed my content… found me on IG… made an effort to share with me how my writing helped inspire him.

We need more of this.

If someone makes something amazing, tell them.

Fuck being cringe.

Fuck being seen as trying too hard.

Fuck people saying you need to play it cool.

Don’t fawn. Don’t gargle sack.

Just be real, be honest and authentic. If someone makes something that changes the trajectory of your life, let them know!

If someone makes something that simply makes you smile — tell them!

We’re becoming more and more disconnected as a race. It’s time to fight back against that by connecting and showing our humanity.

Anyway, that’s it from me this week.

Shoutout to my American friend for keepin’ it 100 with me.

Good luck with the week ahead, gang.

Stay safe and keep doing your best!

With gratitude,

SAV

If you’re trying to rebuild yourself—financially, creatively, emotionally, or physically—you’re in the right place.

I write here to document the process honestly, not perfectly.

Subscribe if you want real reflections, practical frameworks, and reminders that life can be hard, but you’re harder!

LESGO CHAMP!

Subscribe now

If you really want to support me, there’s 3 other ways to do that:

1. Purchase the Champ Camp EP: My latest EP is out now and you can purchase it here. I poured my soul into this and I look forward to everyone hearing it.

2. Follow me on Youtube: All my podcasts, interviews, music videos and a whole heap more, all in one place.

3. Lil Gratitude Journal: My gratitude journal has been carefully designed for the busy modern-day creative/entrepreneur. It’s efficient, effective and affordable (and makes for a great gift).

A lot of death, a lot of pain, a lot of love, a lot of gratitude.

On Tuesday night, I travelled to my hometown to support my best mate as he said goodbye to his little brother.

Accompanied by my Mum, we headed to the funeral on Wednesday.

The small local church was very familiar to my family—between 2017 and 2019, we attended it three times to say goodbye to my Pop, my Aunty Colleen and my Uncle Timmy.

Now I was back to farewell someone much younger, with so much life left to live.

My best mate, Eamon, gave such a beautiful and strong eulogy.

I cried, not only for the sudden and tragic loss of this beautiful soul’s life, but for the courage on display from Eamon, despite the pain he was feeling.

This was the second of his brothers that he was saying goodbye to in only 6 months.

I could not imagine that heartbreak.

Seeing my friend stand tall and hold himself together in that moment is something that I will never forget. I was so proud of him.

After the funeral, I spent one quality hour with my Nen (last remaining grandparent), brother and parents over a coffee before heading back to Sydney to board a flight to Melbourne.

On Thursday, I went into the office, tired and emotionally pretty low.

It was a grind, but I got through.

I headed into the office again on Friday, fairly well rested and ready to get stuck into my work, when I received a call from my brother James.

Our family dog, Lochy, had multiple seizures, and his body was giving up.

Lochy had been living for the last few years with my brother Luke and his partner Alex in Melbourne. Along with James, and with his condition clearly deteriorating, they had decided to euthanise him.

I immediately left work to meet them so we could say goodbye.

When I got there, it was pretty evident that the old boy was on the way out. He was a lifeless blob in my brother’s arms, no tail wagging, no kisses, just a quiet acceptance of what was to come.

We laid him down on the table, gathered around him, and surrounded him with love.

The vet walked in, injected a few vials of fluid into his leg, and within seconds, his heart stopped beating, and his journey on this plain was complete.

We were inconsolable.

I have never cried that much in my life.

The pain of watching the life disappear from something that brought you and your family so much joy and love was unbearable.

We had a beer for Locho and reminisced on all the good times—sharing photos, videos and stories of what a trooper (and a total weirdo) he was. Basking in the good times and honouring the role he played in protecting our family for 14 years.

Ok, enough about me.

Why do I share these stories?

Well, because this week I was very poignantly reminded of something…

Impact!

A few years ago, I heard about something called The Funeral Test—here’s a quick breakdown for those unfamiliar:

The "funeral test" is a powerful, proactive visualisation exercise used to define what a fulfilling life means to you, often associated with Stephen Covey’s "Begin with the End in Mind" habit. It involves imagining your own funeral and considering what you want family, friends, colleagues, and community members to say about your character, contributions, and achievements.

I learned about the idea in an online course that I had bought from Tai Lopez, and it talked about this concept in relation to legendary apartheid activist Nelson Mandela, who literally gave his entire life for his beliefs and the fight for equality.

In the course, you were challenged to think about your funeral.

How many people showed up?

What did they say?

What impression did you leave?

What impact did you have?

The reason Mandela was used to illustrate this idea is that he was beloved by everyone he came into contact with. His state funeral in 2013 brought his home nation of South Africa to a standstill and received 4500 attendees.

The test urges you to consider what you are presently contributing to this world, and what impact you hope to make.

Every decision…

Every interaction…

Every person we help…

Every life that we touch…

Every single moment will play a role in determining what sort of impact we are having on this Earth after our physical journey is completed.

What impact do you want to make? What legacy do you want to leave?

Whether you like it or not, you are choosing exactly what that will look like through the life that you lead and the energy you impart. So choose wisely.

Kieran was 32 years young when his life suddenly ended.

His funeral was a beautiful spectacle of the impact and joy he brought to the world, bringing together a church full of family and friends wishing to say goodbye—in fact, there was not enough room to seat everyone, with many having to stand at the entrance or watch from outside.

He was a kind soul. Always bright and energetic. Adventurous and full of life.

He cared deeply about humanity and the human experience; his gentle and reserved nature had made an impact on so many in such a short space of time.

Lochlan Savelberg was 15 years old when his fat little vessel decided it had enough.

This angel of a dog found his way into our lives when he was rescued from a shelter by my parents at only one year old.

After adopting my baby sister only a year earlier, and with me and my brothers already being in our late teens/early twenties, my parents wanted to provide a playmate—someone she could wrestle with and giggle with.

A friend who didn’t have any responsibilities and would always be there.

Lochlan was that.

I remember vividly, a two-year-old baby girl and a one-year-old pup wrestling around on the floor in a ball of barking, giggling and love.

He would go on to play a huge role in all of our lives.

Locho would witness everything our family experienced across 3 states and dozens of homes; he saw it all:

• Friends come and go

• Relationships start and end

• Grieving loved ones

• Surviving pandemics

• Battling addiction

• Recovering from injury

• Dealing with stress

I know that this is a dog’s duty, but Locho had an awkward energy that felt divine; his love for my family was tangible—our little guardian angel. He knew that his job was to provide comfort and companionship to my family, and throughout all of life’s highs and lows, he did his job exceptionally well.

His impact will never, ever, be forgotten.

Rest in paradise, K-Dawg and little fat man, I love you both; you’re not in pain anymore.

With gratitude,

SAV

If you’re trying to rebuild—financially, creatively, emotionally, or physically—you’re in the right place.

I write here to document the process honestly, not perfectly.

Subscribe if you want real reflections, practical frameworks, and reminders that progress is often quiet and unglamorous—but always worth it.

Subscribe now

If you really want to support me, there’s 3 other ways to do that:

1. Purchase the Champ Camp EP: My latest EP is out now and you can purchase it here. I poured my soul into this and I look forward to everyone hearing it.

2. Follow me on Youtube: All my podcasts, interviews, music videos and a whole heap more, all in one place.

3. Lil Gratitude Journal: My gratitude journal has been carefully designed for the busy modern-day creative/entrepreneur. It’s efficient, effective and affordable (and makes for a great gift).

I’m running a 28-Day Gratitude Sprint to help you get your presence and awareness back on track in February.

One short prompt. Everyday. For 28 days. Delivered straight to your inbox.

If you want to join, click here 👈

Where to begin…

Well, the year 2025 was eventful, to say the least.

Massive changes in my life across every imaginable axis—while the global landscape shifted almost daily. Politically. Socially. Morally. Emotionally.

The world is a crazy place right now:

• War in Ukraine

• Genocide in Gaza

• A backflip on Epstein files

• Terrorism on our own shores

• Youth mental health epidemic

• A staggering loss of life in Sudan

• Charlie Kirk’s very public assassination

• Two boys stabbed to death in Melbourne

• A vindictive and divisive American president

There is a lot of pain around me.

I see it in the eyes of strangers. I hear it in the tone of commentators. I feel it in the tension of everyday life.

And yet—I still see the beauty.

It’s still there.

Despite what the media would have us believe, beauty hasn’t disappeared. It’s just been buried under noise, fear, and endless outrage. Sometimes all it takes is looking up from your phone long enough to notice it.

The empath and victim inside of me whispers…

“What’s the point…

this fate is inevitable…

this pain is insurmountable, so just give in to it.”

But the leader and stoic in me urges me to get to work by raising the collective consciousness.

That is my duty.

I open my laptop and begin tapping away.

Nothing good comes from stalling.

Nothing is gained by dwelling on what I cannot control.

So I write.

Not because it fixes everything—but because it’s my duty to contribute something sane to a world flirting with madness.

Today, I want to share the Stoic toolkit I use to stay grounded.

Because sanity and humanity can coexist—even now.

I have 5 tools that help me steel my mental fortress for the daily grind of life.

A Quick Clarification

Stoicism is widely misunderstood.

TikTok bros would have you believe it’s a based “alpha” code for life.

“Get money

Fuck feelings

Fuck the haters”

Etc… etc…

They are wrong. Stoicism is not the absence of fear.

It is the acceptance of fear, pain, suffering as unavoidable themes in our lives, whilst still holding the power and presence to act in accordance with your humanity anyway.

It’s courage in the face of tyranny.

Honesty in a world full of liars.

Love in a room full of hate.

Being quick to rage, quick to retaliate, quick to dehumanise—these are not strong traits. They are uncontrolled ones.

Apathy toward suffering is not Stoic. It is ego.

Stoicism is not cold. It is the realisation and acceptance that some things just cannot be changed.

As Marcus Aurelius wrote:

“There’s nothing manly about rage. It’s courtesy and kindness that define a human being—and a man.”

With that said, here is the code I live by.

1. Radical Honesty

This starts with myself and permeates outward.

I spent a lot of my life living in the shadows… playing in the darkness… scared of being honest and accepting fault.

Now, I refuse to lie to myself to protect my ego.

I name the pain and the lies and acknowledge where I fall short.

I’m not afraid of being wrong.

I’m not afraid of being disliked.

I’m not afraid to hurt someone’s feelings in order to preserve peace.

Darkness is consuming.

Honesty brings me into the light.

It can cause friction from time-to-time, but I don’t have to spend my life looking over my shoulder or covering my tracks.

Deceit and untruthfulness invite chaos.

Truth and honesty provide stability.

2. Gratitude:

This is a discipline. A skill. A muscle.

Not a feeling.

I don’t wait for life to be good to be grateful.

I practice gratitude because life is fragile and transient.

Every moment contains something worth celebrating.

Gratitude reminds me that bitterness is optional—and perspective is powerful. It keeps entitlement in check and anchors me in reality, not fantasy.

It is not toxic positivity.

It is mental strength training.

3. Strength of Body

Speaking of training…

Keeping my body strong and ready for life’s challenges is an important part of being a Stoic… why?

Because the mind lives there.

In the words of Seneca…

I train my body so my mind has somewhere solid to live.

Movement sharpens judgment.

Discipline builds self-respect.

A weak body invites a fragile mind. I refuse both.

Note: Admittedly, I have fallen short of this standard over the last 12 months due to injuries and other factors, but I am determined to get back to my physical best. Watch this space.

4. Journaling & Reflection

Journaling and note taking has been paramount to my growth as a human being.

Since really committing to the practice in early 2020, I have collected a huge cache of thoughts and reflections.

• 4 diaries

• 15 notepads

• 3 gratitude journals

• 150+ podcasts exploring my thoughts

• 50+ reflective newsletters (like this one)

I do this to keep an eye on who I am.

It’s a place where I cannot lie to myself, and the truth of where I am and what I am doing is evident and undeniable.

The Stoics new the importance of this tool.

Keeping track of what you got right, what you got wrong and what adjustments can be made is one of the most Stoic things that anyone can do.

As Seneca said…

5. Tactical Stress

Daily stress is, well, stressful.

• Bills…

• Exercise…

• Commuting…

• News cycles…

• Personal tragedy…

• Failed relationships…

• Annoying coworkers…

• The allure of temptations…

This comes for all of us at some stage. We deal with it when it comes, try not to implode, and get on with our lives.

But that is not what I’m referring to.

I’m talking about choosing stress.

Let me give you an example—let’s say you want to get jacked, so you go to the gym and you choose to put your body under stress by lifting weights to tear the muscles in order for them to grow.

That’s an obvious case of tactical stress… you choose a hard thing (gym), to put stress on a system (body), in order to grow (your muscles).

Tactical stress is the same, but more readily available.

Some people use cold showers as a way to invite stress and manufacture a sense of achievement. Others might put the mostly avoidable tasks at the top of their to-do list.

It doesn’t matter how you do it.

Find hard things, large or small, and do them.

Run toward the fire (stress) as often as you can. That is where growth lies. That is where your real potential can be realised.

6. Premeditatio Malorum (Premeditation of Evils)

I spoke about this in my uniquely bogan way recently—you can read that newsletter here:

Basically I was trying to say that we are surrounded by evil.

Surrounded by bad people.

To expect them to act differently is insanity. It would be like asking a Leopard to change it’s spots—it ain’t happening.

When we have this data, we can brace for its impact.

Premeditation of evil is not acceptance of evil.

It is understanding that it is going to happen eventually, so do not be surprised, find the courage to act rationally anyway.

7. Amor Fati

Amor Fati is a latin phrase that translates to love of fate.

Similarly to Gratitude and Premeditatio Malorum, it encourages us to fall in love with the process and accept the outcomes.

There’s only so many levers we can pull as human beings.

Once we have done what is in our control, we sit back and not only accept, but love what ever happens next.

My life has taken some unusual turns.

Som very high highs and some dangerously low lows.

I love it all.

Because I am still here, and I wouldn’t be me without it.

A Final Reminder

These Stoic tools don’t absolve me of life’s tribulations.

Life still sucks from time-to-time.

I still feel pain… I still make bad decisions… I still doom scroll and waste my most precious resource (time).

Stoicism, these tools, are not designed to avoid suffering.

They are designed to help me realise that life is transient — fragile and precious — and that everything will end.

That awareness doesn’t depress me—it sharpens me.

It reminds me to live wholeheartedly.

To act with care.

To remain human, even when it’s easier not to be.

This is how I stay sane.

Not by escaping the world—but by meeting it with discipline, compassion, and resolve.

Thanks for reading.

With gratitude,

SAV

If you’re trying to rebuild—financially, creatively, emotionally, or physically—you’re in the right place.

I write here to document the process honestly, not perfectly.

Subscribe if you want real reflections, practical frameworks, and reminders that progress is often quiet and unglamorous—but always worth it.

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If you really want to support me, there’s 3 other ways to do that:

1. Purchase the Champ Camp EP: My latest EP is out now and you can purchase it here. I poured my soul into this and I look forward to everyone hearing it.

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3. Lil Gratitude Journal: My gratitude journal has been carefully designed for the busy modern-day creative/entrepreneur. It’s efficient, effective and affordable (and makes for a great gift).

I interrupt regular programming for a special announcement…

Now, most of you are well aware that I am a fiend for self-help, gratitude, stoicism and mental health.

I want to live the good life…

And I want you to live it too!

I’ve been thinking a lot about how loud life feels lately.

Not necessarily bad, just noisy. Busy. Mentally cluttered.

As the new year is nearly one month old, a lot of you may not have started with the energy and intention that you foresaw. The same stuff seems to be getting in the way and your’e feeling a little… stuck?

While all these thoughts have been milling around, I received some great messages from people leading me to believe that gratitude is still so essential.

We really do live in a gratitude deficient society.

I want to change that.

With all that in mind, I decided to pull the trigger on something I have been wanting to do for a long time and never had the courage or confidence to pull off…

In February, I’m launching a short email course on gratitude.

It’s a 28-day sprint.

Nothing intense.

Nothing motivational.

Just one short email a day with a small prompt — something you can do in 2–5 minutes, then get on with your life.

It’s not about being positive.

It’s about reps.

Training your attention to notice what’s already there, especially on the average days.

If that sounds useful, you can read more and join here:

👉 Join the 28-Day Gratitude Sprint

And if it’s not for you right now, that’s completely fine.

I’ll still be writing every Sunday to you beautiful folk as usual, but I wanted you guys to be the first to have a look.

With gratitude,

SAV