Backstage w/ Matt Stone

First day of spring (though at 41 degrees you wouldn’t know it), and Matt’s reflecting on cherry blossoms in Japan—his first season in 1999 when he finally got the mysticism of that dramatic pink against dark bark. But here’s the thing: everyone builds them up all year, then they arrive and they’re over in a second. Like Christmas when you’re a kid. The moments we live for are merely moments—the rest is anticipation. Maybe just enjoy them without over-romanticizing.

This week shifted his usual business development plan. Instead of going wide with messages, he went deep with in-person meetings—so rich and valuable it was worth it. When you can’t go wide, go deep. He had a two-hour call with Kyle, a friend from high school who sparked his first franchise painting business. Yesterday he met the CEO of one of America’s most successful painting companies (who’s run marathons in all 50 states), plus a Milwaukee broadcaster with a voice like butter who does live shows and incredible events.

The energy has shifted, and new relationships are flowing while some old ones naturally fade. The people coming in now? Deeply aligned. Even before the big money arrives, he knows it’s coming because he’s investing in soil that will produce. Money for resources to build and support people—that’s the point. Intention, purpose, values, and people are all aligning. The question: Who’s come into your life recently that you’re deeply grateful for?

One day until spring, and New York is celebrating with freezing temperatures—aspirational at best. After sharing trivia about a $245,000 Citibank heist in 1831 (millions in today’s money), the first televised Academy Awards (1953), and Nicolae Ceaușescu becoming head of Romania’s Communist Party (1965—before his brutal fall), Matt dives into what’s on his mind today.

He’s planning a new live show on LinkedIn with a co-host, working on creative projects with clients, and being more judicious about what he says yes to. He got invited to write a magazine article, and his first thought was “Oh Lord, I can’t do it”—but really it’s just that he doesn’t know what to write about yet. So he puts the call out to his brain, and it’ll come. It always does.

Here’s the theme: the relentless power of doing the next right thing when things feel murky. He didn’t wake up with hyper clarity today—his head feels a little scattered, a little foggy—and that’s okay. Because when you have a plan with specific tasks tied to a strategy, you don’t have to reconnect with the whole thing every time. You just do the next right thing. He’s got a routine, a plan, lots of balls in the air. The clarity will come back into focus—it always does—but you give it time by moving the ball forward. So what’s your next right thing, especially when you’re feeling untethered from your clearest thinking?

Two days until spring, and Matt’s back after missing more days—the sheer volume of activity is almost unmanageable, but it’s all good. After sharing trivia about the first telephone call between London and the continent (1891) and Gandhi’s six-year sentence for civil disobedience (1922), he dives into what happens when things finally align.

The energy shift is incredible. New clients rolling in, some dropping off—and he’s not hung up on any single one. It’s about loving what you do, who you do it with, and being aligned with your clients’ purpose. He’s never felt this good at all levels, and it took letting go of a lot to get here. Now he’s meeting CFOs and other leaders, discovering that great personalities exist everywhere—even in stereotypically buttoned-up roles. One of his highest uses? Pulling the person out, helping leaders be strategically vulnerable without being unhinged. That’s a master skill in the age of AI.

When purpose, passion, talent, skill, and the right clients align, people flood into your world like water from a fire hose. The challenge now is building foundations to scale—because handling the volume will be the problem. And that’s exactly the problem he’s wanted to have. The question: Are you truly aligned with what you care about, your skills, your talents, and the people you want to spend time with?

Four days until spring, rainy and cold, and Matt’s back after missing Thursday and Friday last week—conflicts got in the way, and sometimes it just doesn’t happen. After sharing trivia about The Scarlet Letter being published (1850) and Barnum and Bailey Circus debuting in NYC (1881), he dives into what’s been on his mind: the feeling of not doing enough. Not “I’m not enough,” but “there’s just so much more to do.” He’s been head down working, working, working, and still it feels like it’s not enough.

Here’s the reframe: it’s a season of planting, tilling the soil, working the fields. Like his friend in the wine business who’s virtually gone in October and November—nobody begrudges him because that’s just the season. Matt’s trying to go easy on himself for being late to reply to people, for not talking to certain folks for longer periods. You’re going to miss a few things, and that’s okay as long as you’re not missing the most important things. That’s why prioritization matters. On the flip side, he caught an off-Broadway show last week and drove out to the Jersey Shore yesterday (literally past Snooki’s shop—never watched the show, but it permeated the culture). The season isn’t open yet, parking was free, had great food, saw the water. One day, and he feels rested and rejuvenated. In the race of the tortoise and the hare, he’s trying to be more tortoise-like—just sustain and keep going.

Nine days until spring, mid-70s in NYC, and Matt’s headed to Times Square to record with a client—his diamond for the day, the rest is gravy. (Yes, diamonds and gravy don’t mix, but roll with it.) After sharing trivia about the first public baseball game in Springfield, Massachusetts (1892) and Levi Strauss selling bell-bottom jeans in 1969 (were those really cool?), he dives into what’s shifted since he properly set his mind to business development. High velocity, incredible people, a new CEO wanting to connect, a startup conversation yesterday that was both productive and genuinely fun—just laughing, having a good time.

Here’s the lesson: when you have enough going on, one thing doesn’t shift the whole thing. The trap he’s seen before—in himself and others—is hyper-focusing on one potential whale client or one existing client you’re desperately trying to keep. That’s when any single situation makes or breaks your day. But the right level of volume and diversification? That changes everything. It assuages so many fears because there’s always another opportunity. You can trick your brain (in the most positive sense) into believing there’s nothing to worry about—that you’ve already solved the problem amongst your current contacts, that the next thing will work out, that it’ll be okay. Just keep marching forward.

Ten days until spring, 72 degrees, and Matt’s running late because the morning was a barn burner of activity and connection—something has really shifted. After dropping trivia about the first U.S. paper currency (1862) and Alexander Graham Bell’s first telephone call (”Mr. Watson, come here. I want to see you”), he dives into what changed. Last week brought an epic battle in his spirit—that force in the mind that says “don’t change, stay in your current paradigm, it’s safe.” Going somewhere you’ve never gone, becoming an updated version of yourself, is scary. The mind preserves the known.

But he stood up and said no to those self-defeating thoughts, and suddenly the shift happened—slowly at first, then all at once. Here’s the reframe: friction is necessary to make things great. Friction causes fire, and fire can be destructive or it can keep you warm and help you build. Right now, the friction is burning down what needs to burn down to fertilize the ground for a new forest—like those fields in Oregon they’d torch every seven years for better crops. It looks dark and bleak, all black smoke, but it’s positive as long as you’re resolute about moving forward. He’s experiencing the afterglow now—free to move, free to be himself. Ultimately, it’s a decision, even when fear is running the show. And he got sick and tired of resisting it. Not his first rodeo. Out of the fog now, building, communicating, having a good time.

Eleven days until spring, 70 degrees, and Matt took a longer walk along the Hudson with the sun in his eyes—naturally waking up the brain without as much coffee. He missed Friday’s episode because Friday was a mindset battle day, the kind where you’re crossing the Rubicon to a place you’ve never gone before. Uncomfortable, scary, but necessary. He emerged this weekend with newfound confidence and faith, grateful to the people who endured his intermittent misery during the struggle.

After sharing trivia about Napoleon showing up two hours late to his own wedding (1796) and Mattel unveiling Barbie at the New York Toy Fair (1959), he dives into what hit him on this morning’s walk: social media is the ultimate codependent relationship. It’s designed by crafty psychologists to keep you in a loop, serving an algorithm that’s always changing. You optimize your hook, your eye contact, your first half-second—trying to win love and affection from a metric that doesn’t care about you. The real danger? You stop going inside yourself to ask: Who am I? What do I think? What do I want? Your identity becomes wrapped up in what the algorithm says is valuable, not your own exploration. That’s why this podcast exists—it’s not commercialized, not optimized for followers (45 on Substack, maybe thousands of downloads, but who knows?). It’s a sandbox for working through life, building something new, connecting with who he is. And ironically, doing it mostly for himself might help people more.

Fourteen days until spring—exactly two weeks—and heavy rain is washing away the snow piles (and the unsavory animal byproducts left behind). After sharing trivia about the Boston Massacre (1770) and the hula hoop patent (1963—seriously, a patent for a circle?), Matt dives into day two of executing his new business development plan. Yesterday he knocked out all targets and then some, and having a clear plan tied to a real strategy made him feel more accomplished than winging it ever did.

But here’s what really clicked: the Romanian deadlift principle. Years ago, his trainer designed full workouts for Monday-Wednesday-Friday, but also taught him this—some days you won’t have time for the full plan, so don’t do nothing. Do the one compound exercise that gives you 80% of the benefit. Just show up and do that. The same applies to business: his BD plan has a simple daily number to hit, and he can change the combination of how or when he hits it. Today’s packed with meetings scheduled weeks ago, so there’s no room for the full plan—but he’s already figured out the backup that keeps him successful anyway. The lesson? Build routines that work, but also build simple backups that require no further study or thought. The question he leaves you with: What alternative plan can you create that helps you make progress every single day, even when time doesn’t cooperate?

Fifteen days until spring, and Matt’s new barometer is a melting snow pig outside a Cuban restaurant—the ears are almost gone now. After sharing FDR’s “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself” quote from 1933 (apropos while reading about the lead-up to the Great Depression) and the wild fact that a nuclear power plant started operating in Antarctica in 1962, he dives into what happened yesterday: alarm bells went off in the middle of the day. Not a middle-of-the-night anxiety spiral—just darkness, right there in broad daylight.

So he did what he’s learned to do: stepped back, ate a late lunch, gave it time to breathe, investigated. The alarm wasn’t coming from nowhere. What he realized: he needed a real business development strategy. Networking is great, connecting people is great, but something more strategic and specific is needed to get velocity beyond the first low-hanging fruit. That’s where he’s at—the lull after the initial hits. So he spent two hours in Claude, speaking his way through details, going back and forth, and produced a comprehensive but not complicated BD strategy that’s about 90% there. It lays out exactly where to prioritize time, with whom, and for what purpose. The process itself addressed the emotions that triggered the alarm. Another reminder: action is the cure for anxiety. But focused, thoughtful, intentional action? That’s even better.

Sixteen days until spring, and Matt’s feeling pretty good after his morning walk around the neighborhood—less urgent need for coffee when you wake up the brain first. After sharing some U.S. history trivia (first foreign aid bill in 1812, Missouri Compromise in 1820), he gets into what’s on his mind: a client who agreed to work together, set a date, then went silent. Matt blocked off his morning, turned down other meetings, and now... nothing.

Years ago in sales, he would have politely but ruthlessly followed up, essentially trying to force a response. But here’s what younger Matt never got: silence is communicating. Ghosting is sending a clear message—you don’t know why, but the signal is there. Something changed, or they were never fully in, or life happened. When you try to force a response from that place of abandonment (”I committed to you and now you’ve left me”), you usually get a more definitive “no” than you would have otherwise. And you can never underestimate the power of reasons that have nothing to do with you. So these days? He lets it go. If the client comes back, they’ll see if the deal still makes sense. In the meantime, he’s got great projects with other clients and networking to do. He’s working through the lull after the first hits—that’s where he’s at. The question he leaves you with: What expectation can you really let go of to move forward?