2 DAYS AGO • 2 MIN READ

A Better Question to Start the Year

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Life’s messy. People are difficult. Calm is rare.

I’m Broden Johnson — entrepreneur, husband, dad, and serial failure. I’ve built companies, lost companies, made money, lost money, and written a book about the only lesson that ever stuck: Don’t Be a Dick. I write Tales from a Failed Beekeeper — short weekly stories about philosophy, family, work, and the strange art of not losing your mind. They’re part humour, part Stoicism, and part therapy I don’t have time for. If you like your life advice unpolished, funny, and slightly uncomfortable, you’ll probably like this.

Somewhere over the break I read a line from a Stoic text that stopped me cold.

Not because it was clever.
Not because it was profound in a quote-on-Instagram way.
But because it was uncomfortable.

It asked: “Who are you?”

Not in the “I’m Broden” sense.
Not in the job-title sense.
Not in the highlight-reel sense.

Deeper than that.

Who are you when things are hard?
Who are you when no one’s watching?
Who are you when you’re tired, frustrated, unsure, or under pressure?

It’s a strange question to sit with at the start of a new year – because we’re usually encouraged to ask very different ones.

What do I want to achieve?
What do I want to buy?
What do I want to change?
What do I want more of?

Goals. Targets. Outcomes.

There’s nothing wrong with goals.
But they’re fragile.

They depend on circumstances.
On energy.
On motivation.
On things going roughly to plan.

Principles don’t.

The Stoics weren’t obsessed with outcomes.
They were obsessed with conduct.

Not “What will happen to me this year?”
But “How will I show up, regardless of what happens?”

That idea has been sitting with me as the year starts – because when I look back on the times I handled things well, it wasn’t because I had a clear plan or a perfectly set goal.

It was because I knew who I was trying to be.

When things went sideways, goals didn’t help me.
Principles did.

When I snapped, I apologised – not because it was strategic, but because kindness mattered.
When things stalled, I stayed patient – not because it was efficient, but because integrity mattered.
When no one was watching, I tried to do the right thing – not because it would be rewarded, but because it aligned with who I wanted to be.

That’s a compass.
Not a destination.

This year, I don’t need a new car on the vision board.
I don’t need a list of things to accumulate.
I don’t need a louder version of myself.

I need clarity.

I need to know:

  • What do I stand for?
  • What lines don’t I cross?
  • How do I treat people when I’m under pressure?
  • What kind of dad, partner, leader, human do I want to be?
  • What good am I here to do, even quietly?

The Stoics believed life is unpredictable by design.
Which means goals will always wobble.

But if you know your principles – your patience, your honesty, your restraint, your kindness – you always have something solid to return to.

That’s the thing I’m carrying into the year.

Not a list.
Not a target.
Not a timeline.

A sense of who I am when things don’t go my way.

And if I can live in alignment with that – even imperfectly – the year will take care of itself.

If you’re feeling the pressure to reinvent yourself right now, maybe pause for a moment.

Before asking what you want this year, try asking:

Who do I want to be when things get hard?

That answer lasts longer than any resolution.

If this gave you something to sit with, feel free to forward it to someone who might appreciate a quieter start to the year.
If this was forwarded to you and you want these straight to your inbox each week, you can subscribe here:
👉 brodenjohnson.co

Until next time,
Broden Johnson

Life’s messy. People are difficult. Calm is rare.

I’m Broden Johnson — entrepreneur, husband, dad, and serial failure. I’ve built companies, lost companies, made money, lost money, and written a book about the only lesson that ever stuck: Don’t Be a Dick. I write Tales from a Failed Beekeeper — short weekly stories about philosophy, family, work, and the strange art of not losing your mind. They’re part humour, part Stoicism, and part therapy I don’t have time for. If you like your life advice unpolished, funny, and slightly uncomfortable, you’ll probably like this.