The First Brick Was Always There

I had a very interesting night, to say the least.

My friend Hive account@ankalagonchik was sitting inside an OpenPod on Snapie.io, dreaming, I suppose, about ideas on how to make it better, when all of a sudden someone joined. Someone very special joined: Hive account@epodcaster.

Sometimes it feels like planets do align, and it's just a matter of time until they do. Patience is a virtue, or so they say, but time is a luxury, echo the masses. Both can be true, but it takes finesse and a little bit of luck.

At any rate, I was tapped on the shoulder, so to speak, and joined them for a lovely conversation. We spoke about Snapie, FirstContext, long-term goals, and practical things we could do to move our plans forward. Not going to lie, a lot of things got thrown at the wall, but it was hard not to get excited about the possibilities.

The thing is, if we can—and I submit that we should—build things that are, funnily enough, disconnected from the valuation of the token itself, things that still matter and still solve problems for people, then eventually the markets will realize "the truth," so to speak. The protocol, a piece of the pie, becomes needed, wanted, desired... stalked.

Okay, okay. I'll stop.

I was explaining to Hive account@ankalagonchik that Hive was, and still is, a honey trap of sorts. A protocol where a smart person can spark the magical flame of a network effect, of mass growth, and then leverage its voodoo to build a business, an idea, or something entirely unexpected.

Hey, I realize I'm daydreaming a bit, but that's okay. I can forgive myself, and I hope you can as well.

The potential has always been there. It still is.

The obstacles are plenty, the politics disgusting, and the feeling of inadequacy is never too far from our minds. But the potential—the first step, the first brick—has always been there.

Without a doubt, if we are to move toward greener pastures, we need to become completely comfortable with breaking dogma. We have to blur the lines between what we idealistically white-knuckle as liberty and freedom, and where the people actually gather to gander.

Yes, that makes sense.

Let's go with the geese.

What I find most amazing about these thought experiments, these little dives into my own head, is that as difficult as it may seem for these things to happen, if they do—or should I say, when they do—the speed of it would make these red days easy to forget.

Maybe not for me.

Maybe not for you, dear reader.

But in the broader timeline people will remember, these days are little more than blips.

The best advice I can give anyone these days—and I'm not even joking—is this:

Don't forget to touch grass.

But do so only long enough to get back in the saddle, back to the grind.

-MenO