I’m a Strategic Idiot

I’m 49 years old, and for most of my life I’ve been running it like this;

1. I create a new idea. I become a creative, focused, and an enthusiastic rock star.
2. But at some point it gets repetitive and I somehow disconnect without even meaning to.

3. Frustration sets in.
4. I get demoralised.
5. I find another idea and…………..repeat step 1.

Sound familiar? I can’t be alone?

Looking back now, I can see this has been a regular occurrence my whole life. I’ve felt like I was running uphill while everyone else seemed to be on cruise control. I’ve had bursts of inspiration that felt electric, moments where I could move mountains in a single afternoon. But then… silence. Days, sometimes weeks, where I just couldn’t bring myself to finish what I started. Not for lack of ambition, not for laziness, but because something inside me just switched off.

I always thought maybe I was just wired differently—too inconsistent, too impulsive, too much in my own head. Turns out, I was right. I am wired differently—but not in a broken way. I’ve just been running an operating system I never understood until now.

The Three Pillars I Did Know About

Before this realisation, I had already mapped out what I called my three internal pillars. These are the things that fire me up and make me feel alive:

1. Idea Formation & Creative Problem-Solving – I love finding connections others miss. Reframing problems is second nature to me.
2. Automation & Scaling – I get obsessed with removing friction and finding the most efficient path forward.
3. Fast Validation & Metrics – I need feedback quickly. I thrive on testing, measuring, and adjusting in real time.

These pillars describe what energizes me. But what I didn’t realize was just how fragile that energy really is.

The Opposite Side—My Daily Pain Points

My struggles sit in direct contrast to those pillars:

• Repetitive tasks drain me. Even if something works, the moment it becomes mundane, I’m out.
• Long-term structure drains me. I admire people who can stick to routines, but they feel suffocating to me.
• Not being kept in the loop. If I don’t get a response, result, or insight quickly, I disengage.

I thought I just lacked discipline. But what I’ve come to understand is that this isn’t a character flaw—it’s chemistry.

Dopamine — The Missing Variable

I’d always heard about dopamine in passing. Usually in the context of addiction or pleasure. But it’s much more important than that.

Dopamine is the brain’s motivation fuel. It’s not about feeling good—it’s about wanting to do something.

Specifically, for me, high dopamine means:

• Novelty (new idea, new task)
• Uncertainty (unknown outcomes)
• Reward (satisfaction, praise, validation)

Whilst low dopamine means procrastination, feeling overwhelmed and mental paralysis.

Some brains—like mine—have lower baseline dopamine, which means they require more stimulation to stay engaged. When that stimulation is present, I enter a state of flow. But the moment things get repetitive or predictable, my internal fuel runs dry.

This is what I mean when I say I burn through dopamine fast. The pattern of my work-life cycles started to make sense when I understood this.

The Classic Loop (That’s Been Running My Life)

Here’s how it typically plays out:

1. New idea? I’m all in. Creative, focused, enthusiastic.
2. Early traction? Even better. Dopamine levels surge.
3. It gets repetitive? I’m gone. I disconnect without even meaning to.
4. Frustration sets in. I think, “Why can’t I just stick with it?”
5. I double down with discipline. Maybe I build a plan, a tracker, a routine.
6. The system fails me. It doesn’t account for how my brain works.
7. Burnout. Guilt. Repeat.

I realised I was trying to run productivity systems that weren’t designed for my operating system. Like installing Windows software on a Mac. It just kept crashing.

How I Recognized the Dopamine Pattern in Myself

Once I had the language for it—high/low dopamine, energy rhythms, task patterns—I saw it everywhere in my life:

• I love launching things but hate maintaining them.
• I’ll obsess over a project until the moment it becomes predictable.
• I avoid admin tasks like they’re radioactive.
• I burn out when I try to mimic other people’s daily routines.

It’s not that I’m inconsistent—it’s that I work in pulses, not pipelines. Rhythm, not rigidity. I need urgency, novelty, and meaning to stay engaged.

Where I Am Right Now

Here is the kicker. Everything above is just my research. I have no idea if I am on the right track or barking up the wrong tree.

Right now, I’m not pretending I’ve solved it all. But for the first time in years, I don’t feel broken—I feel seen, albeit by finding a theory that resonates with me.

I’ve realised I don’t need to fix myself. I need to design around myself. Build systems that leverage my energy bursts. Create pathways that automate the drop-off points. Accept that my motivation has a rhythm—and work with it instead of fighting it.

There’s a strange optimism in that. Not hype. Not motivation porn. Just calm, quiet clarity that says, “This might actually work if I stop trying to be someone I’m not.”

I’m exploring what it means to structure life, business, and creativity around this new understanding. No more forcing routines that suck the life out of me. No more guilt when I abandon something that no longer lights me up. Just honest alignment with how I’m built.

For Anyone New Here

If you’ve just landed on this site and any of this resonates with you, welcome.

You just might be running a different OS, and nobody ever handed you the manual.

I’m going to be sharing more about how I’m figuring this out—from systems that work with my brain to experiments that fail fast and move me forward.

If that sounds useful to you, follow along. There’s more to come.