You Can't Be Everything
I saw a pizza place yesterday with a menu the size of a newspaper.
Pizza, sure. But also burgers. And tacos. Thai food. Sushi. Breakfast all day. Desserts. Smoothies.
Fifty items, easy.
I didn't order anything. Walked out.
If you're trying to be everything, you're not good at anything.
I Used to Cram Everything Into My Work
My first novel had six subplots.
A romance. A murder mystery. A political conspiracy. Family drama. A heist. And a coming-of-age arc.
I thought more meant better. Give readers everything they could want in one book.
What I actually created was a mess. Nothing got enough space to breathe. Every subplot was half-developed. The book tried to be everything and ended up being nothing.
I had to cut four subplots.
It hurt. Those were good ideas. But the book wasn't about those ideas. It was about one thing—and cramming in everything else was killing it.
The real power came when I let it be what it was supposed to be, not everything I wanted to create.
The Pattern Shows Up Everywhere
I see this in business constantly.
A coach who offers life coaching, business coaching, health coaching, relationship coaching, and career coaching.
Who do you call them for? Everything, apparently. Which means nothing, really.
The coaches who succeed pick one thing. "I help software engineers transition to management." That's it. Clear. Focused. Powerful.
Same with my blog. I wanted to write about writing, business, productivity, psychology, philosophy, cooking, and travel.
Sounds impressive. Actually just confusing.
When I narrowed it to "systems for creators who build things," everything got clearer. I knew what to write. Readers knew what they'd get.
Even my morning routine. I tried to fit in meditation, journaling, exercise, reading, planning, learning a language, and creative work—all before 8am.
It lasted two days.
Now my morning is three things: coffee, write, move. That's it. It actually works because it's not trying to be everything.
Focus isn't limiting. It's what makes something powerful enough to matter.
Why We Resist Cutting
Cutting feels like loss.
Every idea you remove is something you worked on. Something that could be good. Something you're excited about.
But here's the truth: trying to include everything weakens all of it.
Your novel doesn't need six subplots. It needs one great one.
Your business doesn't need fifteen services. It needs one you're known for.
Your art doesn't need to express every emotion. It needs to nail one.
Permission to Narrow
You're allowed to let your work be one thing.
Not because the other ideas are bad. Because trying to be everything dilutes what makes your work special.
Cut what doesn't serve the core. Even if it hurts. Even if those ideas are good.
Let it be what it's going to be.
Try This Today
Look at something you're creating—a project, a business, a piece of art.
Write down everything it's trying to be or do.
Now cross out half of it.
Not because those ideas are bad. Because focus is where the real power lives.
What do you need to cut from your current project?