Aiming for 10x means two things: (1) identifying an assumption that hasn't changed until now but could change soon, and (2) betting on that change as an active participant.
Finding the assumption and making the bet each require different kinds of effort. The fact that both are necessary is what makes it hard — and why I feel it takes someone with a "broken brain" to do it.
On (1): finding
To find something, you have to stare at it more intensely than anything else. That's a trade-off with paying attention to everything else.
Chasing many themes at once produces thin observations — which can never become "non-consensus right." So it requires an almost antisocial level of concentration.
For me, this comes with obvious side effects: I'm not great at staying connected socially, and my attention outside of my core focus is extremely low. (My own excuse, I know.) That's why I depend so much on people who can point out things I'm not seeing and pick them up for me.
On (2): betting
Making the bet as a first-person participant means "continuing to engage with an assumption that nobody has been able to move yet." You need to keep asking: why can I move it now? If I can't, what's the barrier? This is accompanied by enormous amounts of questioning, experimenting, and failing.
The human brain is not designed to endure repeated failure. That becomes the real obstacle.
There's a scene in Hunter × Hunter (a manga series) where Gon, the main character, is training his nen (a fictional supernatural power) against the raw forces of nature, struggling and suffering the whole way. In manga, it reads as an inspiring story. In reality, most people can't do that. It hurts. It's exhausting. The brain is programmed to escape rather than continue.
Gon does it with a smile. That's the bug.
If you've played sports seriously, you probably understand this kind of person.
Recently something happened that I thought "surely this isn't happening to me" — and it was painful. But I've decided to interpret it as a gift toward the pursuit of 10x. Something that sharpens rather than discourages.
I'm not good at certain things and probably never will be fully. But I'm grateful for the support around me (I'm sorry for leaning on you — and please keep helping) and I've recommitted to going all-in on (1) finding and (2) betting.
(Note: I usually try to write articles and essays with some distance, but this was a significant enough personal moment that I wanted to write it down.)
