Need Less to Become More

I used to think more would save me.

More knowledge.

More effort.

More people.

More validation.

But “more” wasn’t a ladder — it was a loop.

And I kept running inside it, desperate for something I couldn’t name.

If you’re honest, you know that feeling too.

That quiet panic beneath the productivity.

That ache behind the ambition.

You want more because you think you’re not enough.

That’s the trap.

And that’s the lie.

The Wound You Keep Hiding Is the Door to Power.

There was a moment I broke.

Not on the outside — the world still thought I was winning.

But inside, everything fractured.

I had built a life around performance.

Persona.

Perfection.

But beneath the polish, I was empty.

Overstimulated, overextended, underconnected to who I really was.

I sat in that silence.

And something strange happened.

I didn’t die.

I met myself.

Not the self I showed online.

Not the self that hit goals.

The one underneath.

The one who didn’t need to prove anything — because he finally remembered who he was.

That’s when I began to need less.

And the moment I started needing less, I started becoming more.

The Moment You Broke Was the Moment You Began.

We are taught to crave.

Crave attention.

Crave scale.

Crave approval.

But every craving is a contract — and most of us never read the fine print.

You think wanting more makes you ambitious.

But it really makes you obedient.

Because every time you need, you put yourself below the thing you chase.

There’s a reason monks, warriors, and mystics all follow disciplines of subtraction.

Less food.

Less noise.

Less want.

They’re not denying themselves.

They’re sharpening themselves.

Modern science agrees. Dopamine overload from constant craving leads to emotional fatigue, decision paralysis, and identity confusion. You become addicted to anticipation, not actualization. Source

You stay busy.

But you never feel full.

The Chase Is the Distraction From the Truth.

I started cutting.

Not just apps and noise — but identities.

I walked away from the version of me that begged for more.

And as I stripped it all away, what was left wasn’t lack.

It was clarity.

The kind of clarity that doesn’t scream.

It just sits there.

Certain.

Still.

What You Think You Want Is Usually What You’re Afraid to Lose.

Most people chase things they don’t even truly want.

They just fear what it would mean to stop chasing.

“If I stop growing, I’ll fall behind.”

“If I stop hustling, I’ll become irrelevant.”

“If I stop proving, I’ll disappear.”

But you don’t disappear when you stop chasing.

You appear.

Wanting less gave me vision.

It gave me peace.

And from peace, I built precision.

You can’t architect a life from chaos.

You can only survive it.

The ancient Stoics practiced “premeditatio malorum” — imagining loss so they could move through life unafraid of it.

When you fear nothing, you need nothing.

And when you need nothing, you become unstoppable. Source

Simplicity Is the Shape of Sovereignty.

The fewer your needs, the stronger your stance.

I cut my strategy to one.

I cut my offer to one.

I cut my desires to a sacred few.

And from that ruthless edit came real expansion.

Not the scattered kind.

The sovereign kind.

This is why clarity looks like minimalism.

Because complexity is usually just unresolved fear wearing a mask of productivity.

In neuroscience, this is mirrored in “synaptic pruning” — your brain deletes connections to become more efficient. Less data = more direction. Source

The less you carry, the faster you move.

The fewer your needs, the louder your signal.

That’s when people start to listen — not because you begged.

But because you broadcast certainty.

You Can’t Embody Power While Chasing Permission.

Most of the pain you feel comes from contradiction.

Wanting freedom — while still chasing validation.

Wanting sovereignty — while still fearing rejection.

Let me say this with love:

You can’t become more if you’re still addicted to applause.

You can’t speak truth while adjusting for likes.

You can’t lead if you’re still waiting to be chosen.

The moment I stopped needing anyone to agree with me…

The moment I stopped diluting to be accepted…

That’s the moment I became a lighthouse.

Not a spotlight.

Not a siren.

A fixed, immovable, undeniable signal.

This Isn’t About Motivation. This Is About Identity.

You don’t need more hacks.

You need a homecoming.

And to get there, you must need less.

Less drama.

Less noise.

Less approval.

Less pretending.

And that truth starts with this:

You’re not missing anything.

You’re buried beneath everything you were told you had to want.

Now is the time to dig.

Because every second you delay, you reinforce the mask.

But every moment you choose stillness, something ancient returns.

Your clarity.

Your fire.

Your voice.

So breathe.

Cut the noise.

Return to center.

Let Go. Or Be Dragged.

The version of you who needs less is already inside you.

Waiting.

All you have to do is stop feeding the version that’s addicted to lack.

You’re not here to perform.

You’re here to lead.

And leadership begins in silence.

Choose it now.

I hope that was helpful enough to get you started.

— Randolphe