
I WANT TO DIE EMPTY — REINVENTION PART 1
I WANT TO DIE EMPTY.
I don't want to reach the end carrying ideas I was too comfortable to try.
That probably sounds darker than I mean it.
I'm not talking about dying anytime soon.
I'm talking about living.
I've been in business for 16 years.
At this point in my life, it would be pretty easy to look around at what we've built and decide that this is enough.
Keep doing what we know.
Protect what we've built.
Stay in the lane we've spent years creating.
And there would be absolutely nothing wrong with that.
But there's a thought that has been bothering me:
What if I reach the end with too much still inside me?
Ideas I never tried.
Stories I never told.
Things I wanted to create but kept putting off.
Parts of myself I never explored because I had already decided who I was supposed to be.
I don't want that.
I want to die empty.
Not empty because I worked myself into the ground.
Not empty because I gave everything away.
Empty because I used what was in me.
Because I created the things I wanted to create.
Because I followed my curiosity.
Because when something inside me said, I wonder what would happen if...
I was still willing to find out.
Maybe that's what reinvention really is.
It isn't rejecting the person you've been.
It's refusing to die full of the person you still had the potential to become.
EXPERIENCE CAN BECOME A BOX
There is a strange thing that can happen when you've been doing something for a long time.
You get good at it.
People begin to know you for it.
You build customers, relationships, routines, equipment, knowledge and a reputation around it.
Eventually, what you built can start telling you who you're supposed to be.
We usually talk about experience as an advantage.
And it is.
But experience can also start defining the boundaries of what we think we're allowed to do.
I've spent years in printing, signs, wraps, apparel and the different things we've built around Red Alpha.
That's part of who I am.
But it doesn't have to be all I am.
Over the last several months, I've found myself getting excited about things that don't fit neatly inside the box I spent 16 years building.
Red Alpha Studios.
Podcasting.
Storytelling.
Writing.
Artificial intelligence.
Characters and designs we created years ago that we're now rediscovering through Red Alpha Originals.
Some of these things are new.
Some aren't new at all.
They're pieces of myself that I may not have had the time, technology, resources or perspective to fully explore before.
And that's made me realize something:
Reinvention doesn't always mean becoming someone completely different.
Sometimes it means rediscovering parts of yourself that never had enough room to grow.
YOU HAVE TO BE WILLING TO BE NEW AT SOMETHING AGAIN
There's another side to reinvention that isn't nearly as comfortable.
You have to become a beginner again.
After years of knowing what you're doing, suddenly you're learning.
You're experimenting.
You're asking questions.
You're building things that might not work.
You're discovering technology you don't completely understand.
You're putting yourself in situations where someone with far less experience than you may know far more than you do.
That can be uncomfortable.
Experience gives us confidence.
Reinvention asks us to loosen our grip on some of it.
Not because those years don't matter.
Because they do.
But because knowing how to do what you've always done can't become the reason you never try what you haven't done yet.
I'M NOT STARTING OVER
That's probably the biggest distinction I've discovered.
I am not starting over.
Red Alpha Studios doesn't erase Red Alpha Custom Prints.
Red Alpha Originals doesn't erase the designs and ideas that came before it.
The things I'm learning today don't invalidate the things I've spent 16 years learning.
I'm carrying all of it with me.
The customers.
The relationships.
The mistakes.
The wins.
The stories.
The designs.
The ridiculous ideas.
The things that worked and the things that absolutely did not.
Maybe that's one of the advantages of reinventing yourself after you've already spent years building something.
You aren't beginning with nothing.
You're beginning with everything you've already lived.
And maybe that's the difference between starting over and reinventing yourself.
Starting over sounds like returning to zero.
Reinvention means taking everything you've accumulated and asking what else you can build with it.
DON'T CONFUSE COMFORT WITH COMPLETION
There comes a point when nobody would blame you for settling into what you've built.
That's what makes this interesting to me.
There isn't some crisis forcing me to reinvent myself.
I don't have to do this.
And maybe that's exactly why I want to.
Sometimes we assume the next chapter begins because something went wrong with the current one.
The business failed.
The career ended.
The opportunity disappeared.
Life forced a change.
But what if nothing is broken?
What if you're simply still curious?
What if the thing you've spent years building is successful enough to give you the opportunity to explore what else might be inside you?
Comfort can feel a lot like completion if we're not careful.
But they aren't the same thing.
Just because you could stay where you are doesn't mean you've discovered everywhere you can go.
MAYBE THERE IS ANOTHER CHAPTER
I don't know exactly what all of this becomes.
And I'm becoming increasingly comfortable saying that.
I don't need to know where every idea ends before I allow myself to begin it.
What I do know is that I'm excited.
I'm curious.
I'm creating.
I'm learning things again.
And I feel like there are parts of me and parts of Red Alpha that we're only beginning to discover.
Maybe reinvention isn't about deciding that the old version of yourself wasn't good enough.
Maybe it's simply refusing to believe that it has to be the final version.
So wherever you are in your career, your business or your life, maybe the question isn't:
What do I have left to accomplish?
That sounds like we're counting down.
I'd rather ask:
WHAT ARE YOU STILL CURIOUS ENOUGH TO BECOME?
What idea is still sitting inside you?
What have you always wanted to learn?
What have you convinced yourself you're too old, too established, too busy or too far down another road to try?
What would you create if you stopped requiring yourself to know where it was going first?
You don't have to throw away what you've built.
You don't have to pretend the last chapter didn't matter.
And you don't need a crisis to give yourself permission to change.
Take everything you've learned with you.
Take the wins.
Take the scars.
Take the relationships.
Take the experience.
Then go see what else you can do with it.
Because when my time eventually comes, I don't want to look back at a lifetime of ideas I kept safely stored inside me.
I want to have used them.
Tried them.
Built some of them.
Failed at some of them.
Changed my mind about some of them.
And probably