“I feel like I’m doing life wrong if I’m working all the time.”

The above quote is from a writer who raked in half a million dollars while enjoying time on an island off the coast of Vancouver. His name is Paul Jarvis. And he’s my guest on this episode of Bleeding Ink. Take powdered zen master, add half a cup of hustler and a cup of geek with a healthy pinch of weirdo, and stir into this mix the finest Canadian maple syrup to concoct a Paul. Like few other content creators he slices through the internet’s deafening garble by staying true to a voice sincere and made of Grade A Helpfulness™.

You need to listen to Paul Jarvis. He’s got this marketing stuff figured the hell out.

Twitter, Facebook, SnapChat, Instagram, make the world a teeny tiny place. They are integral to the shape of humanity’s future communication, for better or worse. So new are these platforms that their strengths and weaknesses are mere wisps on faddish winds. But we do know these: They are good at connecting. They are not so good at creating sustained and intimate engagement. Acquaintances want to connect. Artists want to engage.

Paul is an artist. The sole goal for his marketing endeavors is to form relationships with similar minds so they may experience inspired conversation, paradigm shifts in thought, and have a damn good time doing it. There’s an underlying purity and bravado to Paul’s vibe—these extend from a man who’s spent more time building his character than building his livelihood, or rather he’s taken his character and made it his livelihood. And that’s the point: we must sell ourselves, we are the product. Why not invest all our energies into ourselves? Are we not our greatest asset?

“I feel like I’m doing life wrong if I’m working all the time,” Paul said to me and chuckled. He’s big on life balance and enlists the help of tiny robots to automate many of the more mundane tasks of keeping his clients on track, encouraged, and engaged with his work. Okay, maybe he doesn’t actually use tiny robots, but he does leverage the automation powers of Mailchimp and Zapier to free him up for thoughtful work and long, long vacations.

Paul has penned five books. They hit bestseller charts. How? One word at a time, one mistake after another. Paul is a hyper-learner, he thrives on jumping naked into arctic waters to see if he can survive on his universe-given wit. He figured out the whole bestselling book thing and said, “What’s next?” Courses were. He made a cool half-million dollars helping people grow and thrive like himself. Now Paul has a legion of dedicated followers—er, he wouldn’t like the term “follower,” let’s say “companions”—who will no doubt benefit from wherever Paul wants to take himself next. Count me in.

Enjoy.