Spencer Combs Article Bank

The calendar says "Holidays." The world outside begins to slow, to pause, to look inward. Presents, parties, reflection. For many, this period is a collective exhale. A shared agreement to take the foot off the gas. To coast. Your competition is doing it. They're already mentally checked out, planning their breaks, anticipating the collective slowdown. And that, precisely, is the point. Because while they are distracted by eggnog and holiday stress, an invisible, unfair quarter opens up. This isn't Q4. This is the Hidden Quarter . This isn't the time to rest on your laurels. It's the time to build your launchpad. This is the moment to install the system, master the process, or build the lever that your distracted competitors won't even think about until mid-January. What is the one high-leverage system or process you can dedicate yourself to installing and mastering in the next 30 days that will guarantee you start January at an undeniable 5x speed? It...

  The world is a machine. A vast, efficient, relentless machine focused on two things: speed and automation. If your job, your skill, or your output can be described by a predictable set of instructions, the machine will eventually learn to do it faster, cheaper, and without complaint. This is not a threat. It is a reality. It is the new baseline. So, where do you stand? Are you building your house on sand, relying on tasks that are easily copied? Or are you building a firewall? The firewall is the part of you the machine cannot touch. It's the unique combination of judgment, empathy, creativity, and the courage to make a non-obvious choice. This week is a choice. You can perform the necessary, replaceable tasks. Or you can invest in your firewall. The question isn’t about job security. It’s about value creation. What is the one thing you can learn, practice, or build this week that will make you so valuable, no one else can do your job five years from now? It's the dif...

The clock runs. The hour passes. The time is spent. Most of the world gets paid for the passing of that time. It's a comfortable contract. An agreement of safety. Trade one hour of life for an agreed-upon unit of currency. The problem with this contract is that it caps your potential. It rewards presence, not performance. It celebrates effort, not outcome. But the economy of impact is different. No one pays the painter for the hours she spent cleaning the brushes. They pay her for the masterpiece. No one pays the entrepreneur for the hours he spent staring at the ceiling. They pay him for the breakthrough idea. They pay for the result . The moment you accept this truth, your relationship with the clock fundamentally changes. You stop asking, "How long will this take?" You start asking the only question that matters: What can I do with this time that will yield the single greatest result this week? This is the question of leverage. It's the search for the acti...

We talk about freedom. We talk about choice. We talk about work-life balance , the hustle , and the grind . But sometimes, all that chatter is just noise, distracting us from the actual lever of autonomy . The lever is a number. It’s not your net worth. It’s not your annual salary. It's not your bank account balance right now. It’s your FUN (F* U Number) . It’s the amount of capital, invested strategically, that would spin off enough residual income —passively—to cover your chosen lifestyle expenses forever. It’s the size of the asset that makes the job optional. The deadline negotiable. The compromise avoidable. It’s the number that means you get to say 'no' to the client who drains you, 'yes' to the project that inspires you, and 'stop' to the routine that suffocates you. It's the ultimate measure of your self-reliance . If you don't know your FUN, you don't know the distance to your freedom. You're just wandering. You're working withou...

We are storytellers. Every single one of us. We wake up, and the narrative begins. About the day, about the work, about our capabilities. But often, the most persistent story, the one whispered most loudly, is the disempowering one. "I don't have enough time." "It's too hard." "I'm not good enough." "They won't listen." This isn't just internal monologue; it's the operating system for your actions. It dictates what you attempt, what you avoid, and what you achieve. The insidious thing about these stories? They feel true. Because we've repeated them so many times, they've become part of our perceived reality. But here's the secret: you're the author. That disempowering narrative? It's a draft. A first pass. A working title you've been stuck with. And just like any author, you have the power to edit. To delete. To rewrite. What is the truth? Not the convenient excuse, not the protective shield, but th...