My Cure for Entrepreneurial Anxiety Came From an Unlikely Source: Rainn Wilson
I was drowning in doubt over my business metrics. A brutally honest sentence from "Soul Boom" led me to a 3-minute practice that changed everything.
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The knot in my stomach was back.
I’d just closed the tabs—our Medium stats, our affiliate dashboard—and the familiar script started playing in my head: “See? The numbers don’t lie. Maybe you and Sophia don’t have anything meaningful to contribute after all.”
I felt it physically. The weight on my shoulders, the tightness in my jaw. The material results of our fledgling company, Simple and Aligned, were all I could see, and they were shouting that we were failing.
I felt really, well, frigging unhappy.
And in that moment, a line from a book I was reading echoed in my mind like it was written just for this exact feeling. It was from page 76 of Rainn Wilson’s Soul Boom: Why We Need a Spiritual Revolution:
“I needed to seek spirituality because I was really frigging unhappy.”
It was so blunt. So undeniably honest. It wasn't a complex theory; it was a survival instinct. My own search for spirituality started from a similar place.
My whole life, I’ve been fascinated by the non-material. I grew up in relative material abundance; whenever I had a wish that wasn't too outrageous, I could usually put it on my list for my birthday or Christmas and get it. I remember wishing for an electric guitar, and boom, a month or two later, I had it. I wished for an amp to go with it, and boom, I got that too.
It felt nice to have them, to play around with them. But I already had so many "toys." I had a computer, golf equipment, two bicycles, a closet full of clothes, an acoustic guitar, a cello, and shelves overflowing with books and games. The truth was, I had accumulated so many more things than I had time to actually use them. And in that realization, they became completely meaningless. The joy of acquisition was fleeting, replaced by the quiet burden of possession.
By 15, that feeling had crystallized into a genuine curiosity. If a new guitar or gadget couldn't provide a lasting answer, what could? It was this search that led me to a conversation I’ll never forget. I happened to run into my religious education teacher while walking across town. We fell into step together, and I found myself asking him the biggest question of all: “What is the meaning of life?”
He didn't offer a textbook answer or a complex philosophical theory. He just stopped, looked at me with genuine sincerity, and said, “That is a very good question.” Then he added, “It’s one I also don’t have an answer for.” His humble admission was surprisingly powerful. It didn't shut down my question; it validated it. It signaled that this was a real quest, not something with a simple answer in the back of a book.
The answer began years later, thanks to my wife, Sophia, who introduced me to meditation, and a book I got from my dad, The Diamond Cutter by Geshe Michael Roach, which showed me how ancient wisdom applies to modern problems. I learned that the answer wasn't in the next viral post or product launch; it was inside me. Rainn Wilson defines spirituality as that which is “not of material… not tangible.” It’s the meaning, the purpose, the connection—the stuff that truly matters, but you can’t put a price tag on.
My moment of despair over our stats was the latest alarm bell, signaling that I’d forgotten that. I’d become attached to the material outcome and disconnected from the non-material why.
Rainn’s quote was the spark that brought me back to that teenage feeling. It was the permission slip to admit the material world wasn't enough. But the solution? That didn’t come from his book. His blunt honesty inspired me to reflect and consciously excavate a practice from my own toolkit, built from years of meditation and introspection with Sophia.
It wasn't created in the moment of despair, but in a quiet moment of reflection afterwards, specifically because his words resonated so deeply. I asked myself: "What is my actual, practical response to being 'really frigging unhappy'?" This is what I developed:
The 3-Step “Body & Breath” Reset
Play Sentinel. Your first job isn’t to fight the feeling, but to notice it. Mentally acknowledge it: “Ah, there you are, doubt. And you, unhappiness.” Stop seeing these thoughts as “you” and instead see them as visitors. Just naming them—“I see you”—creates a tiny sliver of space between you and the panic. You are the watcher, not the storm.
Breathe and Locate. Take one slow, deep breath. As you breathe out, scan your body. “Where does this doubt live?” For me, it’s a definite tightness in my jaw and a heavy pressure on my shoulders. Don’t try to make it go away. Just shine a light on it. Okay, it’s right here. This moves the problem from the abstract mind into the tangible body, where it’s easier to work with.
Smile and Send Love. This part feels a little weird until you do it. Put a gentle, soft smile on your face—not because you’re happy, but as an act of kindness toward yourself. Then, direct that feeling of compassion inward, right toward the area of tension. Mentally whisper, “Thank you for trying to protect me. I see you. It’s okay. You can relax now.”
Radiate acceptance instead of resistance. The tension may not vanish instantly, but its power over you will. It dissolves from a screaming alarm into a quiet whisper you can calmly listen to.
(For extra credit, ask that tension, “What are you here to teach me?” and journal the answer. It might be about a deeper fear of being irrelevant—a much richer insight than just “the stats are low.”)
That three-minute practice completely shifted my energy. I stopped frantically thinking about what was wrong with our strategy and remembered what was right with our purpose: to be of service. The doubt was a passenger, not the driver.
The material results of our work will always ebb and flow. But my ability to return to a place of joy and purpose in the process? That’s a spiritual skill no algorithm can touch.
And it all started with a sentence in a book from an unlikely spiritual guide, giving me the courage to admit I was unhappy, and the inspiration to find my own way out.
If Rainn Wilson’s blunt honesty speaks to you like it did to me, and inspires you to find your own tools, you can find his book, Soul Boom: Why We Need a Spiritual Revolution, here.
If this personal journey and practice resonated with you, and you want more insights for aligning your mind and your work, join our Simple and Aligned Newsletter. We share the tools and discoveries that don't show up anywhere else.
What’s a quote that recently inspired you to create a change? Share it in the comments below—I’d love to hear what’s sparking your own solutions.
