If Nothing Else Gets Done

I've been working around the clock for the past few weeks on a complete redesign of the Weathered Sailor website, including new features that I believe bring even more of our ambitions to life and further differentiate us from other brands. It launches 9/1.

And a lot of other shit isn't getting done.

That's one of the stranger realities I've encountered as a solo founder right now.

I'm concurrently running tools and processes across several different AI systems that help me keep the lights on while pushing forward parts of the business I simply couldn't manage simultaneously on my own.

It's incredible.

This might be one of the greatest times ever to be a creative.

You can imagine something that would have required a team, specialized expertise, significant money—or that simply wasn't possible a few years ago—and build a completely functional version of it almost immediately.

And somehow...

There still aren't enough hours in the day.

More capability doesn't eliminate prioritization.

AI doesn't change the number of hours in a day.

It doesn't eliminate judgment.

It doesn't decide what actually matters.

And it definitely doesn't make me five people.

So I finally made the decision that if NOTHING else gets done between now and 9/1 except finishing this site the way I want to, that's OK.

Why 9/1?

Weathered Sailor is a premium streetwear brand, 1a.

It's also a purpose-driven passion project supporting mental health causes, 1b.

The purpose is to give to people who need help but don't know where to start.

To give to people already doing their own work.

And to give to the people and organizations already helping others get the support they need.

September is Suicide Prevention Month.

There's a frightening word engraved within that last sentence.

What's more frightening to me is how common that word and everything surrounding it are in people's lives—and how often the rest of us have absolutely no idea.

I'm not sure there's a way to make this topic less uncomfortable to discuss or easier to understand.

If I had a bag of wishes, that would certainly be one of them.

We rarely know what the person sitting across the conference room table is carrying in their life at any given moment.

And most of the time, especially at work, there doesn't seem to be a time or place to ask the harder questions.

How are you, actually?

How are the people you love?

What are you carrying right now?

Maybe those questions are considered too personal.

Maybe this has no place in a professional environment.

On its own, the subject can be heavy and scary and deeply intimate.

But I do think that, in the spirit of creating more connection and understanding between humans, there are ways we can communicate and express care that are still responsible, respectful, professional—or whatever other word represents the concern holding us back from doing it.

And I think those small expressions of care can penetrate deeper and last longer than we realize.

So throughout September, I'm going to use Weathered Sailor to explore ways we can connect, notice, express, and receive real care—including in the places where we're usually told those conversations are too personal.

Ways to show up for people without pretending we know what they're experiencing or trying to fix it for them.

Yes, even at work.

Especially at work.

We spend an enormous portion of our lives there.

We give and bend and break for work.

We sacrifice and prioritize around it.

We experience some of our greatest triumphs there.

And some of our deepest despair.

For now, I'm going back to getting this damn site finished.

I'll be journaling about this, the process of building Weathered Sailor, and whatever else is happening along the way here in The Log.

You can follow along.

Or don't.

I'll be working, thinking, and writing anyway.

9/1.

Everything else can wait.

P.S. You can still be a badass at work AND care about yourself and others.