Welcome to the third edition of Sabbath Sessions! I am incredibly grateful for the feedback over the last two weeks and for those who recently subscribed!
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The Gospel of Mario
Iâm proud to be part of the first generation of kids where video games were readily accessible.
December 25th, 1987. The day I became the recipient of a life-changing piece of technology, the Nintendo Entertainment System.
More specifically, I was in possession of the game that introduced a global audience to one of our most enduring pop-culture institutions; Super Mario Brothers.
Any other gifts I received that year were dead in the water, and the Nintendo instantly captivated my attention. I spent close to an hour running, jumping, and dying a lot in my attempt to guide this mustachioed plumber through his adventure. Finally, I leaped into the air, grabbed the flag, and watched my on-screen avatar run into the castle.
Victory was mine.
I sauntered upstairs, smug and radiating in my evident greatness.
I was a prodigy. The annals of history would contain countless tomes dedicated to the worldâs most accomplished videogame player.
Searching For Dustin Spencer would obliterate box office records as children everywhere flooded theaters hoping to glean a sliver of the masterâs wisdom.
In less than a morning, I had conquered technology.
âAre you done playing already?â My mom asked, her eyebrows going up as she looked at me over her mug of tea.
âI beat it. Iâll play the other games laterâ
âYou beat what?â she asked.
âMario Brothers.â
She laughed. âNo, I think you just beat the first level.â
THE FIRST LEVEL?!
WHAT ARE LEVELS?!
I sprinted downstairs in time to watch the timer expire and one of my precious Mario lives be spent fruitlessly as I scrambled to pick up the controller.
My character was now underground, a new, more ominous yet still catchy theme playing. I resumed my loop of sprinting, leaping, and either eventually falling to my death or mistiming my action and touching one of the many enemies, forcing me to start over.
This cycle continued until I jumped with Mario at the level's midpoint, and his hat bumped into the ceiling. As he made contact, the part of the ceiling he impacted exploded.
I repeatedly jumped, a smile spreading across my face as I learned that Mario could run on top of the ceiling!
You could bypass everything!
The enemies!
The pits!
The tubes with man-eating plants inside!
All you had to do was hold the directional pad down to the right and jog your way to immortality. It was a blissful revelation.
This discovery is my earliest memory of truly imaginative design. Design made better because nothing about the game would have clued you into thinking such an event was even possible. Based on visual cues, I simply assumed the ceiling was just that, the ceiling.
Yet, in a moment of pure happenstance, I discovered that there was a far more efficient path outside of how I perceived the boundaries.
Reminiscing on this reminded me that we tend to view life similarly.
Most of us play the game of life as we believe it to be designed. As a result, we see the barriers and obstacles separating our current selves from the people we aspire to be as being unavoidable.
When in reality, the ceiling is broken.
Justin Welsh built a multi-million dollar business teaching people to write LinkedIn posts.
Dickie Bush and Nicolas Cole built a multi-million dollar business teaching people how to write atomic essays online.
David Perell built a multi-million dollar business teaching people how to write, period.
Jen Vermet moved from the midwest to Hawaii and changed the trajectory of her life.
Michael Sklar led three VC-backed startups and recently launched his first course on helping people discover their âpersonal monopolyâ
My fellow WOP alum Charlie Becker just crossed 100 subscribers to his Thought Bananas newsletter
The scale, scope, and mission behind of each of these is different, as it should be.
The question should never be âAm I playing the game as well as others?â
Instead, we should continually ask, âam I designing my own game or playing someone elseâs?â
Iâd love to hear what areas of your life have a ceiling you can break through; shoot me a message or leave a comment!
Thank you for reading, have a joyful week, and I will see you next Sunday! Please feel free to share it with someone else if you enjoyed this newsletter!
Iâd love to connect! So follow me@beingdustin, and letâs chat!
Love the idea of playing your game instead of someone else's. I find often I will try to imitate or replicate the success of someone I look up to, but in that sense I'm playing their game and trying to compete with them on their strengths not mine.
Similar to Naval's idea that "which games you play is more important than how well you play them". We should spend more time searching for the right game (designing our own) and stop playing other peoples.
Thanks for the great ideas Dustin!