No One Has Potential But Yourself¶

I had a conversation with my friend today that shook something loose in my head: no one has potential. Like most of the lies I tell myself, this is obviously false - and yet, sometimes we need these extreme statements to see a deeper truth.

We often combat excess pessimism with excess optimism. We see potential in others and believe they can change. But this is just a projection of our own potential and values and beliefs.

Let me explain.

We throw around "potential" like it's something we can spot in others - this capacity for growth, for becoming. It's the story we tell when we hire someone who isn't quite ready, when we date someone who isn't quite there, when we believe in someone who hasn't quite proven themselves. We use it to describe the ability of a person to evolve and adapt, to grow into who they're "meant to be."

When I think about ambitious people, I never focus on their potential - their actions speak for themselves. I don't say "she's got a lot of potential" but rather "she's in the studio every day." The daily choices of ambitious people tell a clearer story than any assessment of their potential ever could. Their consistent actions drown out empty words and hypotheticals.

But after thirty years of watching people's stories unfold, I've come to understand something a little sad:

Everyone with true potential is already burning with passion and energy. They exist in a constant state of becoming themselves. There are always better words to describe their actions than just potential.

This comes in the form of someone saying they'll change their behavior once this happens or that happens. But more realistically, the ones with true agency aren't waiting for things to happen to them - they're already taking action, making their own opportunities, and shaping their own path forward.

This isn't just philosophical musing - it's a pattern I've seen play out in every relationship, every hiring decision, every friendship. When I see my friends choose the wrong people, whether in business or love, it always comes back to this fundamental misunderstanding about potential.

The potential you see in others is a reflection of the potential you have in yourself. And it's often cases of those who have the most potential are the ones that tend to overestimate potential in others.

This has been one of my biggest mistakes - believing I wasn't somehow alone in my ambition to evolve, to adapt, to grow. Let me share a story that brought this home.

In 2022, I met an artist in New York City. When they shared their dream of having their first gallery show, my mind immediately jumped to all the possibilities. I could see it clearly - the galleries we needed to visit, the portfolio we had to build, the right people we needed to meet. The path seemed obvious. Just effort.

But six months went by. Then a year. Then more. Nothing changed except the frequency of complaints about bosses, about systems, about circumstances. The more they complained about their inability to get what they wanted, the more frustrated I became. It took three years to accept that the potential I saw wasn't theirs at all - it was just a projection of how I wanted to live my life, the values I held for myself.

Now, lets contrast this with the people I spend my time with now. I never one said to my self "they have potential they just need to...". These ambitious people are already doing the work. Kinetic vs potential energy.

The ones with real momentum are always telling you what they're doing, asking for help, seeking feedback. Or they just disappear for long periods and come back with the thing they wanted, ready to celebrate together.

For most of my life I had an excess optimism about others' abilities, while many had an excess pessimism about their circumstances. The truth, as always, lies somewhere in between. But this realization, though humbling, has been incredibly liberating.

Here's what I've come to understand: The people with true potential aren't the ones having long discussions at basecamp. They are on the trail, the ones in motion, the ones you meet coming down from the summit with dirt on their boots and stories to tell.

And here's the truth - if we're living this way, truly pursuing our own potential, we can't afford to stand around at basecamp either. Waiting for others to pack their bags and gather their courage. We need to be on the trail. Because that's where we'll find our true companions - not in the comfortable conversations about what could be, but in the breathless exchanges between climbers passing on the path alive with purpose.

They don't need someone to see their potential - they're too busy staring down the path, watching their step, moving forward in a state of constant becoming.

So, what does this mean for you? Think of these people you're always waiting on, and trying to help. Is the potential you see in them a projection of your own potential? Or have they taken action already?