Last night, we went to see the new Nathan Fielder documentary, You Can See Everything. I had followed the Elizabeth Holmes trials in 2022 through various podcasts and YouTube shows and found them fascinating.
Holmes was the founder and former CEO of Theranos. At one point, the company was valued at close to $9 billion before the house of cards crumbled.
The movie is a true work of art.
Fielder has elevated the concept of a documentary to a new height.
It’s part real-life drama, part investigative journalism, part moral philosophy, and absolutely a phenomenological study of how one experiences communication, particularly nonverbal types of communication.
At the core of Holmes’s defense has been her claim that she did not violate the law or mislead investors.
She often makes the statement that she never personally benefited financially from the initial success of Theranos.
She says that she never sold a single share of stock and that it was never about the money.
She proclaims that her whole purpose was improving healthcare and democratizing access to diagnostic bloodwork.
It was bringing this vision to life that mattered most to her.
Right.
On one level, I believe this.
On another level, I think this was an individual who would do whatever it took not to let this vision die, because her whole identity was tied up in it.
This morning, I was listening to a FIRE podcast, and the guest was describing a vision board he had created to help guide his post-FIRE lifestyle.
For example, he has images of a bicycle trip he plans to do from the southern border of New Mexico up to the northern border of Montana along the Continental Divide.
He also has an image related to his desire to make a full ocean crossing of either the Atlantic or Pacific.
Although he was a member of the Navy, he does not sail or boat himself. Basically, he wants to hitch a ride.
I can relate. I did something similar back in 2022.
I found and glued six photos onto one sheet of paper. The photos represented six areas of my life I wanted to elevate and spend my time on.
It’s a good visual reminder of what I want and hope to do and accomplish with the rest of my life, at least into the foreseeable future.
It’s time to revisit this board, given what I’ve learned about myself and what it means to have total time and location freedom during the last five years of post-FIRE living.
But that brings up the whole question of Having a Vision and it’s benefits and costs.
If we accept a good part of her narrative, Holmes dedicated her life to trying to bring technology and medical science together in a form that would revolutionize the way healthcare was done.
Where did it get her?
Currently, she is serving a 10-year, 3-month prison sentence for wire fraud and conspiracy to defraud investors.
She’s in Bryan, Texas, and will likely be moved to a halfway house in Austin sometime in 2027.
Her expected release is in 2030.
In the documentary, you learn that she considers Theranos 1.0 simply a failure and plans to regroup and launch a Theranos 2.0, or something similar, upon her release.
Wow.
What is my point in discussing this synchronicity of two tales of visions I heard about in the last twelve hours?
I think what strikes me about both—or all three, if we include my vision board—is that there is this desire to achieve or experience something almost transcendent.
I think all three are attempts to bring forth a heartfelt connection to a set of almost utopian possibilities.
And there is a danger inherent in doing so.
There is the danger of hubris and going to extremes, as Holmes’s case demonstrates.
There is also the danger of finding oneself on the hedonic treadmill when seeking an intense set of life experiences.
The thirst and craving for new and more intense experiences are never satisfied.
Does this mean I think it’s a bad idea to have a vision?
Not at all. But it’s not enough.
For Example, I am beginning to see how important a vision is to what I am doing with music.
Currently, I have a mismatch—or at least a serious lack of clarity—between my purpose for making music and performing, why I want to do it, and how I want to bring it about.
In a way, I have been operating like Elizabeth Holmes. I have been holding an immovable attitude toward this encore-career endeavor.
Meaning, I have been operating from the perspective that I will not quit until I bring it into being, in one form or another.
And not only will I not quit until then, I will never quit.
I will base a large part of my own identity on this endeavor to be a composer and performer.
Do I want to change this trajectory?
I’m not sure.
But I do want to explore the alternatives more.
Part of the problem is that I am currently operating at an amateur and hobbyist level, and I need to decide if that is “enough” to satisfy my itch.
To do so will require a different level of intensity and focus.
I am okay with that, but I will also need to let some other things go if I take a bigger leap in that direction.
And I don’t like the basic “music business” model.
That is not the way I want to do it.
However, I’m unclear about what other way there is to do it and why I would be driven to do so.
What is perhaps a bit of a concern is that, not unlike Holmes, my drive comes from wanting to revolutionize the way things are done.
I watn to operate somewhat outside the existing structures that turn music into an industry.
Am I being too much like Icarus and wanting to fly too high by holding this kind of vision?
Let’s see how it goes.