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What Advice Would You Give Your Younger Self?
Have some faith, it's going to be ok

Listen up kid, there’s only one thing you need to know — created in DALL-E
In a recent conversation with my life coach, Jenna, I was congratulating her on a milestone birthday when the question came up: “What advice would you give your younger self, if you could go back in time?”
It’s a common dinner party question. Can you distill a lifetime of wisdom into a single whisper into a child’s ear? Not a book, not a list. Just one sentence that sticks.
Would you whisper stock tips? Hacks for fake confidence?
A friend said to me recently, “Sanjay, it’s easy for you to be happy. You have money.”
I replied, “Sure, but you knew me before I had money. What was I like then?”
He paused. “Oh right… you were always pretty happy.”
Exactly. Unfortunately, it works the other way around too. Jim Carrey nailed it when he said, “I think everybody should get rich and famous and do everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that it’s not the answer.”
Thanks Jim. I believe you. But I still had to learn it firsthand. My worst financial anxiety came after I sold my company and was rolling in cash.
So no — I wouldn’t give my younger self financial advice.
I’ve known for a while that there’s only one thing I’d say, and it would be the same no matter what age that younger Sanjay was.
I wouldn’t tell 12-year-old me to smile more. I wouldn’t tell 30-year-old me to get checked for heart disease. I wouldn’t even tell 40-year-old me to buy Bitcoin at a dollar.
I wouldn’t warn myself about the painful relationships or the shady business partners. I wouldn’t try to dodge the failures or skip the heartbreak.
Because all of it is essential. All of it becomes the story.
And the only thing that matters, in hindsight, is this:
It works out.
If I had known that, I could’ve sidestepped so much stress. Not pain, pain is inevitable. But anxiety, worry, suffering? Illusions cooked up by a busy mind. A single whisper from future me could’ve made all of it melt away.
Life, I’ve come to believe, is like a movie. You feel joy, grief, suspense. But deep down, you know it will end with a point. With resolution. There’s no suffering, because you know it’s just a story. One you’ll walk out of when the credits roll.
Your higher self — the director — has a plan. Your life story will make sense.
This belief crystallized for me after reading Busting Loose From the Money Game, but the core ideas were already there. That we’re all connected. That we live in a kind of simulation. That relationships matter more than anything. These weren’t revelations — they were confirmations. Brought on by quantum physics, psychedelics, and fifty years of trial and error.
Let’s talk about confidence for a second. Everyone says it’s the most magnetic human quality. So where does it actually come from?
Not from success. From faith.
Faith that you can handle whatever comes next. That even if you mess up, you’ll figure it out. Faith that it will work out.
Faith creates confidence, and confidence changes your life.
There’s always something to panic about. If you live by headlines, anxiety will eat you alive. Trade wars, elections, AI overlords — pick your apocalypse.
But the things that really mess us up? They’re never the ones we worry about. In my lifetime alone we’ve panicked about nuclear war, acid rain, Y2K, the ozone layer, and whichever country was next in line to dethrone the US.
None of it happened.
And when something bad does happen — stock crashes, pandemics — we freak out for a bit, then figure it out. Eventually… it works out.
That’s not blind optimism. That’s faith.
Not the religious, dogmatic kind that shuts down inquiry. I mean faith as applied optimism. Faith is what lets you leap even when you can’t see the landing.
Hope is cute. Hope is fun. Hope wants your team to win in overtime. Hope wants popcorn at the bottom of the bag.
But hope doesn’t act. Hope waits.
Faith moves.
Faith keeps watching the game because win or lose, you’re still a fan tomorrow.
You can’t see someone’s faith, but when it ripens into confidence, you’ll see it in their eyes. That’s the part that shines like a beacon.
These days, I’ve got that confidence. Not because everything’s perfect — but because I no longer think it has to be.
The world feels… still.
Strange word, I know. But it fits. No fires to put out. Business is humming. Health is dialed in. My relationships are deep. Even my mood, once a wild ride, has leveled into peace.
It’s not problem-free. My wife and I both have aging and ailing parents. I get frustrated when my venues are half-full on a Thursday. Sometimes my shoulder hurts for no reason.
But problems now feel like threads in the tapestry. Something to admire, tug on, weave into the bigger picture — not freak out over. They’re not fires. They’re comfortable glows. I’ll get to them.
Stillness is new to me. When you’re used to chasing the next crisis or win, it feels suspicious. Like you’re missing something.
But maybe that’s the next level: enjoying life even when it doesn’t need fixing.
That, too, is faith.
Faith that you’re not slacking. That joy doesn’t need to be earned through pain. That rest matters just as much as the hustle.
Faith that you’re allowed to let go.
I’ve spent a lifetime in handyman mode — metaphorically installing TVs and patching pipes. Always ready to fix the next thing.
What happens when you put the tools down?
You let in joy.
That’s the practice now. No more searching for problems to solve. No more chasing motion just for motion’s sake. Just being. Receiving. Letting life’s current move through me without trying to steer it.
So if I could sit across from young Sanjay — any version of him — and offer a single sentence?
Not a pep talk. Not a shortcut. Just the quiet truth: “You’re going to be okay.”
And the best part? If future you could whisper in your ear right now… you’d hear the same thing. So imagine I’m future you, and I’m here to tell you, no matter the stress you’re going through at the moment, no matter the pain. It’s all part of a story that your higher self wrote for you.
You’re going to be ok.
I love telling people about discoveries, people, or tools that enhance my life. Here are a few of my favourites. I receive compensation in cosmic karma points.
My therapist and life coach is Jenna Strike. She’s magical.
I met Jenna through a psychedelic retreat arranged by my friend Alex Enchin and his company Inscape. If you or a loved one are suffering and don’t know where to turn, Alex is a good first call.
I’m going to be holding a FREE online zoom live experience answering audience questions about risk-taking on May 22 at 8:30pm Eastern Time. Register here.
I get even more stillness in my life through meditation, using Henry Shukman’s guided meditation app, The Way (link gives 30 free sessions).
I don’t worry about AI taking over the world because I understand AI. I read the Rundown AI newsletter every weekday.
Read Busting Loose from the Money Game or anything else Robert Scheinfeld has to tell you.
I write so I can connect with my readers. You can reach me by replying to this email, or by responding to the poll below.
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