To Have More, You Should Embrace Disruption

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

“Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean,
but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox.” Proverbs 14:4

Solomon, King of Israel, was the wisest person to ever live. In the book of Proverbs, he helped pen over 700 pieces of sage advice, many of which have entered our common vernacular today.

These pieces of wisdom range from relationships, to wealth, to romance, productivity, and business. They describe situations of ruling and situations of following, of trusting your instincts and finding sage counsel.

Although these proverbs were written thousands of years ago, much of their wisdom is still very poignant today.

Take the proverb at the top of this article for example.

Most people want to be successful. If you went out to your local grocery store or surveyed a few local businesses and asked the first 100 people you met if they’d want an abundance of money and influence, they’d probably look at you like you’re a scam artist. But after some consoling and explaining, they’d almost all certainly answer, “of course!”

If you pushed a little deeper and extended the conversation, however, you’d come to realize that what most people want doesn’t really line up with what they are willing to do.

Their intentions don’t line up with their actions.

People want success and abundance. In fact, many crave it. But if you get down to the root of the matter, most people want a version of success that fits within their plan, their already established structure, or their comfortable rhythms.

Very few people want the messiness that often comes before the moments of success. There’s a small percentage of people who are willing to put up with the animals, the manure, the dirt and grime of the day-to-day grind that are often required to find true success.

We’ve been told a thousand times that good things come to those who work hard. Through our repetition, we’ve created a platitude that avoids the true center of what drives success: disruption.

You can try to keep your world picture perfect and totally organized. You can try to never bite off more than you can chew and follow all of the other practical guidelines for living within the lines. You can get rid of the animals, sweep the floors, throw out the manure.

We do this, thinking that we’ll be at peace. We try to control our lives as we believe that straight and narrow is the path that leads to victory, when in reality, what we’ve really done is cleared out all of our muscle. All of our opportunity.

As Solomon said, “where there are no oxen, the manger is clean.”

This is why real success is rarely clean.

Ask fifty of the most successful people you know how they reached their level of success and you’ll get fifty different answers.

Sure you’ll hear some common denominators like repetition, skill, endurance, or a good character. Guy Raz who hosts the podcast How I Built This asks all of his interviewees at the end of the episodes how much of their success is tied to luck. Most attribute a large percentage to the right place, right time mentality. We know there are consistent threads along the way, but you know what you likely won’t hear in any success story?

Clean.

Practical. Expected. Organized. Straight-forward.

Those words are not found within the stories of successful people because real success is not something that can be squeezed into a mathematical formula. It is not something that can be neatly packaged with a fancy ribbon and bow.

As Solomon goes on to say, true abundance comes by the strength of the ox.

It comes through the muck. Through the dirt and the plow and the early mornings. It comes through trying something out and pivoting in a new direction, by throwing it all down on the table and wiping it off to throw it all down again.

Real success is messy. It’s complicated. It’s a little bit crazy.

Real success is the 19th draft or the 74,534th practice swing in the batting cages. It’s the strength to channel the blizzard of creativity rather than tamp it down so that it fits within our snowglobes.

It’s the willingness to look into the storm and say “do your worst for I will do mine” as the Count of Monte Cristo shared with young Albert de Morcerf.