Yesterday, a friend messaged me:

“Do you have any books, courses, blog posts, anything you’d recommend to help me grow technically?”

He’s a freelance web developer, hungry to step into deeper waters: infrastructure, security, scaling, maybe even leadership. He’s serious. Curious. Not just tinkering, but building a path forward.

I figured I’d just send over a quick list of resources.

But when I sat down to write it… something else happened.

I started thinking not just about what I know, but how I came to know it.Not just what I can do, but how my thinking has changed over time.

And I realized, the list wasn’t just a bunch of links.It was a reflection of something deeper.A mindset.A quiet philosophy I’ve built through years of tinkering, failing, fixing, scaling, and watching things break.

So I kept writing.

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From Execution to Impact

In the beginning, all I wanted was to get good.To be the person who could fix the bug, write the clean code, ship the feature.

Like most people who are self-taught, or hustling to make freelance life work, I was in execution mode. You focus on what’s right in front of you, because that’s how you survive.

But at some point, your questions start to shift.

You stop asking “How do I build this?”And you start asking “Why does this system behave like this?”“Who is this for?”“What happens when I’m not around?”

You begin to notice friction. Patterns. Failure modes.You start seeing beyond the code, into the systems, the incentives, the humans behind the logs.

That shift is invisible. No one hands you a badge when it happens.But it’s real. And once you cross that line, you can’t go back.

You’re no longer just executing.You’re shaping how things get built.And how people move around them.

That’s the moment I found myself reflecting on.Not how much I’ve read.But how much I’ve changed.

The Books Are Just the Beginning

Let’s talk about that list.

Yes, I wrote down the classics:

* Site Reliability Engineering by Google’s SRE team

* Designing Data-Intensive Applications by Martin Kleppmann

* The Pragmatic Programmer

* Infrastructure as Code

* Security Engineering by Ross Anderson

Each of these helped me name something I had already sensed: that building systems is about trade-offs. That infrastructure is culture. That reliability is a conversation.

But more than any specific book, what I really wanted to share was this:

Start with fundamentals. Think in systems. Learn to see the human side of the machine.

Because there is no one book that makes you a better engineer.It’s how you read, what you question, and how you connect domains that builds depth.

That’s why I also added books that aren’t strictly technical:

* Thinking in Systems by Donella Meadows

* The Manager’s Path by Camille Fournier

* The Staff Engineer’s Path by Tanya Reilly

* Being Glue, a short essay every engineer should read

These books aren’t about syntax. They’re about systems, responsibility, influence without authority.They helped me see the “invisible work”, the decisions, diplomacy, culture, and maintenance that hold everything together.

Because at a certain level, the hardest questions aren’t “Can I solve this?”But “Should we solve this at all?”“How will this decision feel 6 months from now?”

That’s senior thinking. That’s leadership. That’s engineering too.

Learning Through Intuition, Not Just Information

I love fundamentals. But I don’t believe in theory alone.

I think intuition matters just as much. And you can’t learn intuition from a PDF.

So when I made that list, I didn’t just give my friend books.I gave him labs.Exercises.Projects where he could break things and rebuild them.

I told him:

* Run a home lab

* Host your own services

* Build a CI/CD pipeline

* Use TryHackMe or HackTheBox to learn security by doing

* Set up a Nextcloud server. Break it. Fix it. Watch the logs.

* Deploy an update that knocks it offline. Figure out why.

These aren’t just side projects. They’re training for your gut.

Because reading about high availability is one thing.Watching your own system crash during an update, and diagnosing it under pressure?That’s a whole other level of understanding.

Psychologists call this tacit knowledge, the kind you feel in your body after enough reps, but can’t always explain in words.

And that’s what separates the intermediate from the experienced.It’s also what most people never teach, because they don’t realize they even have it.

But we can change that.

Turning Quiet Knowing into Shared Wisdom

That’s when a bigger idea came up.

What if we didn’t keep this knowledge hidden?What if we made it visible, the paths, the pivots, the quiet intuitions?

That thought came from my friend Nicklas.He reminded me of Tribe of Mentors by Tim Ferriss, a book built from a simple structure: ask the same set of questions to dozens of thinkers, athletes, builders.

The magic isn’t in any one answer.It’s in the contrast. The patterns. The shape of the thinking.

So what if we did that, for engineers, founders, operators like us?

What if we asked:

* What book changed how you think?

* What failure taught you the most?

* What do you wish someone told you earlier?

* How do you know when you’ve leveled up?

Not as clickbait. Not as advice.

But as a map, a gift, for others figuring this out on their own.

And not just from people with titles and blue checkmarks.

But from the quiet builders:The Viet Kieu tech leads.The second-gen startup operators.The solopreneurs who figured out failover at 3AM.

What if you’re one of them?What if your path matters?

The Edge You Don’t See

After writing that list, I stepped back and realized how much I had grown.How much I had seen.How much I had forgotten to appreciate.

All that knowledge. All those patterns. All those hours staring at logs, debugging production, shipping weird fixes at midnight.

And I thought: Damn.This is actually an edge.

Not because I’m special.But because I’ve been lucky.Mentored. Encouraged. Given time and space to learn.

So I’m sharing this now because maybe you’ve also moved fast for so long, you haven’t paused to notice what you’ve built, not in code, but in wisdom.

And maybe it’s time to pass that on.

We don’t need to teach perfectly.We just need to show our thinking.We don’t need to lead loudly.We just need to be visible.

So let me ask you:

What have you quietly mastered?Who might benefit from hearing it?What’s the smallest way you could pass it on today?

Want the List?

If this sparked something in you, reply.If you want the full list I sent my friend, books, blogs, hands-on projects, drop a comment or message. I’ll send it over, no gatekeeping.

And if you’ve got your own go-tos, the things that changed how you think, share them. Let’s build this knowledge map together.

If you're working on something of your own, tech, team, company, I share more stories like this in my newsletter for founders and doers navigating identity, ambition and impact.

Keep it simple, keep it fresh, smile and let it go.

Yours truly, Trung

PS: I know not everyone gets the time, safety, or mentorship to reflect like this. If you're still grinding, just trying to make it work, I see you. This piece is my way of making the path a little more visible. A little more human.

If you want to check out Nick—the freelancer who inspired me to put this list together—you can find him at https://n1cklas.com.

Chào các bạn, hello friends!

There’s a question I’ve been quietly sitting with lately, one that showed up somewhere between a coaching call, a morning run and an awkward introduction I didn’t feel like salvaging.

The question is this:Who do I let into my store?

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Not a real store, of course. I’m talking about the storefront of my inner world: the one that holds my values, my fears, my joy, the stuff I’ve worked hard to make peace with.

It didn’t always feel like a store. For years, it was more like a locked utility closet. Only a few people were allowed in, fellow computer nerds who understood the way I thought, who liked the same stuff I did, who spoke the language of building and tinkering and dreaming without the need to explain.

They were welcome. Most others? Not so much.

But over time, through intentional self-work and unexpected disruptions, that space inside began to shift. I started rearranging it.

Letting go of inherited beliefs. Clearing out shelves of things I thought I had to be. Meditation, therapy, long walks, hard conversations, all of it helped turn that closet into a place I’m proud to invite others into.

Now it feels more like a store I want to share.Not because it’s perfect.Because it’s honest.

That shift, from performing to simply being has changed the way I connect. With friends. With business partners. With romantic relationships. With strangers I meet at events or over lunch. It’s changed the way I introduce myself too.

I used to rush to prove something. Now, I just let people feel the space. I don’t need to perform. The store speaks for itself.

This is leadership, redefined.Not loud. Not showy. But grounded.It’s about who you are, not what you say.

And science backs it. Research by social psychologist Amy Cuddy shows that people evaluate warmth before competence when deciding to trust someone.

In other words, we connect not because someone is right, but because they feel real.

This week, I felt that in so many small ways.

A coaching session with a founder opened up multiple breakthroughs, not because I brought a powerful framework, but because I stayed present and trusted the space.

Simply reflecting openly on how I managed my own life pillars helped them realize they had never truly examined their priorities through the lens of impact: both personally and in terms of their mental and physical wellness.

I had lunch with someone I’ve known for a while. Nothing groundbreaking was said. But something shifted, we both left lighter.Sometimes, presence matters more than new information.

I was excited to meet someone new, som eone I felt a real connection with. It didn’t work out. The meetup didn’t happen.I was clearly disappointed, I’d been looking forward to this meetup all week, picturing how it might go.

But rather than push or try to force something, I held back and let it be. The result came almost immediately: she offered to reschedule on her own. That felt like a quiet win, a real sign that letting go with grace doesn’t mean giving up, but creating space for things to happen in their own time. It was a reminder that sometimes the best way to build trust and connection is simply to respect the natural flow, even when it’s hard.

And I’m also proud of this:HCMC is now officially part of the Founders Running Club.It’s not just a run group. It’s a signal to the world: Vietnam is on the global map of innovation. We’re not just participating, we’re leading.This is something Tina and I have been building for months. Showing up. Building momentum. Fostering community. And now, it’s real.

I stood quietly at the back and watched the conversations flowing naturally, people connecting, sharing, inspiring each other. Seeing those moments unfold felt deeply fulfilling, Like witnessing the fruits of months of hard work and dedication. That’s when it really clicked for me: this isn’t just a running group, it’s a movement and we’re building something bigger than ourselves.

Founders Pause wrapped its first cohort this week too. The feedback was deeply affirming, warm words from participants that came unprompted. That’s how I know the work is resonating.That’s how I know I don’t need to prove it. The transformation speaks for itself.

The deeper question in all of this is: Who do you let in?When you open your store, who gets access?What do you keep hidden?Where are you still performing and where are you finally just showing up as you are?

And what’s one shelf you’re ready to rearrange?

It might be a small thing, reaching out to someone who makes you feel seen.It might be big, letting go of the idea that you have to be impressive to be loved.

Whatever it is, I want you to know:Your presence is enough.Your story; messy, funny, unfinished - is enough.You don’t have to chase connection.You just have to make space for it.

I want to be real, too, about where I’m speaking from. I’ve had the privilege of time, safety and support to do this inner work. Not everyone has that and I don’t take it for granted. We all open our stores under different conditions. And if yours has been closed for a while, just surviving, just getting through - there’s no shame in that.

But if you’re ready… crack the door open. Just a little.

And if something here landed for you, write back.Tell me:What’s your store like right now?What are you letting go of?Who are you becoming more real with?

This is how we build something better. Together.

Keep it simple, keep it fresh, smile and let it go

Yours truly, Trung

PS: I’m opening space for guest contributors, especially Viet Kieu or diaspora voices. If you have a story about growth, identity, business or belonging, I want to hear it. Let’s co-create something the community needs.

And yes, I’ll be sharing more stories from the running trail and streets of Saigon in future posts, thanks to those of you who asked.

Chao cac ban, hello friends,

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the quiet moments in between the work. The ones when no one's watching. When the emails are paused, when the metrics stall and you're left with just yourself, not your pitch deck, not your growth chart, not even your followers.

Just you.

And honestly, that's where the doubt creeps in, right?

Not the kind of doubt that shouts. The kind that whispers. What if this doesn't matter? What if I'm not enough? What if I’m just performing success but not really feeling it?

If that feels familiar, you’re not alone.

I’ve spent enough time around founders, artists, and visionaries, especially those of us in the diaspora, to know that we’re often carrying more than just our own goals. We're carrying the weight of expectation. Of proving something. Of making the struggle mean something.

And somewhere in that chase, it’s easy to forget ourselves.

That’s why I’ve been thinking about a different kind of scorecard. Not the ones investors ask for or what LinkedIn celebrates, but something more honest. More human. What I’m calling “Human KPIs.”

Key Performance Indicators, sure, but not for profit. For you.

For your energy. Your peace of mind. Your relationships. Your purpose.

Because here’s the truth I’ve learned the hard way: it’s entirely possible to hit your external goals and still feel empty. It’s possible to be productive and still be lost.

Success, if it’s built on disconnection, is fragile.

And doubt — when you ignore it — only grows louder.

So I started asking different questions. What if the real flex isn’t building fast, but building well? What if sustainable growth means tending to yourself, not just driving yourself?

Here’s how I’ve been thinking about it and maybe this helps you too.

1. Physical Fuel — Your Body

I used to think self-care meant a massage or a week off once a year. But I’ve come to realize: it’s in the basics. Breathing deeply. Drinking enough water & sleep. Moving every day. Mindful of your steps in life.

You know how chaotic founder life can get. Long travels. Countless ad hoc calls. Hotels with no gym and a street too noisy to sleep.

Still, the body keeps the score.

And if I’m honest, I’ve had moments where I couldn’t even think clearly because I skipped meals or hadn’t exercised in days. These days, I track my energy like I would track my cash flow. Not perfectly, but consistently.

I try to ask: Did I move today? Did I pause to breathe? Am I fueling myself like someone who actually wants to be here for the long haul?

What about you? What’s one physical rhythm you’ve lost in the grind?

2. Emotional Clarity — Your Mind

This is the one that sneaks up on me.

I can be in a room full of people, even speaking on stage, and still feel that inner voice: You’re not doing enough. You’re behind. Everyone else has it figured out.

Imposter syndrome doesn’t care about your resume.

And procrastination I’ve realized, often isn’t about time. It’s about emotions I’m avoiding. Fear of judgment. Fear of starting. Fear that what I make won’t be enough.

Lately, I’ve been learning to name my emotions. To sit with doubt instead of trying to outwork it.

One practice that’s helped: when I catch myself spiraling, I jot down one or two sentences. Not to analyze — just to notice. That awareness alone is often enough to shift things.

When was the last time you paused long enough to notice what you’re actually feeling?

3. Connection Capital — Your Relationships

There’s a Vietnamese phrase — tình làng nghĩa xóm — the sentiment of community, of neighbors who look out for each other. I think about that a lot.

In this global, digital life, I’ve had years where I’ve met a hundred people and still felt alone.

But I’ve learned: real connection doesn’t come from big networking events or clever DMs. It comes from intentional presence. Listening without needing to impress. Checking in without needing a reason.

My Human KPI here is simple: Did I have one meaningful conversation this week? Did I encourage someone? Did I let myself be seen, not the polished version, but the honest one?

That includes family too. Even if we’re thousands of miles apart. A quick voice note. A shared meal when I’m home.

What’s one connection in your life that could use a little more intention right now?

4. Purpose Compass — Your Spirit

This one is the deepest and the hardest to fake.

There are seasons where I’ve made great money, got featured in the right places, and still felt like I was building someone else’s dream. That’s a slow death.

For me, purpose isn’t always clear at the start. It unfolds in the doing.

Sometimes it’s as simple as asking: Am I still proud of this? Does this feel true to who I am and where I come from?

As a Viet Kieu, I carry stories I didn’t live through but that shaped me. My family’s sacrifices, their silence, their hope. I’m still unpacking that. But I do know this: building something that honors that lineage feels different than just chasing visibility.

And sometimes, it’s not even a grand project. It’s a small choice that aligns with who you are becoming. That’s what I try to track now.

Are you building something that feeds your spirit — or just your feed?

So here’s the invitation. Not to stop growing. But to grow well.

To track what matters.

To build something that can last, not just in the market, but in your own life.

If any of this resonates, maybe take a moment this week to choose one Human KPI to track. Just one. Start small. No pressure.

Maybe it’s going on that walk. Calling that old friend. Writing that page. Drinking that glass of water.

Small steps make the path. You don’t have to take the whole mountain at once. As we say back home — cắt con voi ra từng miếng thì mới mang qua cửa được. You have to cut the elephant into pieces to bring it through the door.

If you’re doing this too, I’d love to know. What’s your Human KPI right now? What’s the smallest action you’re committing to?

We’re not meant to do this alone. And your doubt doesn’t mean you’re broken, it just means you’re still human. Still listening.

Let’s keep building. But let’s do it in a way that feels good to come home to.

Keep it simple, keep it fresh, smile and let it go.

Yours truly, Trung

Chào các bạn, Hello Friends,

I’ve been reflecting a lot over the last couple of weeks and it’s funny how sometimes the simplest lessons are the ones we need to revisit.

It’s not that I’ve forgotten them, but the weight of life makes me forget how important they are until I have to confront them again. It's like they sit quietly in the back of my mind, waiting for a moment to surface and remind me of their truth.

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I think this is something a lot of us go through, especially as entrepreneurs or creatives. We often think we’re just one big breakthrough away from clarity, but sometimes, the real breakthrough is simply in returning to what we already know.

Lately, I’ve been feeling the tension between rest and action. I think we often mistake rest for laziness, especially in the entrepreneurial world, where the pressure to “always be on” can be suffocating.

For me, the past few weeks have been a reminder that rest is part of the process, not a detour from it. I’ve been taking more time for myself than usual, but I’ve had this inner conflict where I’ve felt guilty about it. I mean, I know that rest is necessary, but somehow, there's always this voice in the back of my head telling me to push harder, to go faster.

I’ve been working through this internal tug-of-war between doing and resting. I don’t know if you ever feel this way, but when I let myself slow down, I start questioning if I’m being “productive” enough. The culture we live in makes it hard to embrace slowing down. We’re constantly bombarded with the idea that we need to hustle harder, wake up earlier and work longer hours to get where we want to go.

But I’m learning (or should I say, reminding myself) that the work we do when we’re rested is far more effective. And if I really want to show up for the people I’m building with and for, I need to take care of myself first.

For me, this has meant really listening to my body. There were a couple of days where I just didn’t have the energy to get out of bed. And instead of pushing through, I let myself sleep. I didn’t feel guilty about it, though I almost always do at first. The tension between wanting to do and needing to rest is something I constantly struggle with. But I’ve come to realize that rest is more than just physical. It’s emotional, mental, and spiritual. It’s about honoring the pace that’s right for you, not the one that everyone else seems to be going at.

And then there’s doubt. Oh, how it shows up, especially when you least expect it. I think every entrepreneur goes through this cycle of doubt, sometimes it’s subtle, like a nagging feeling in the back of your mind. Other times, it’s more obvious, like when you question every decision you make or wonder if you’re just spinning your wheels.

Doubt isn’t something that magically disappears when you hit a certain milestone or “make it.” If anything, it morphs into new forms. The doubt I’m experiencing now doesn’t feel like it did when I first started out. Back then, it was more about the big picture, about whether I could make it at all.

Now, it’s more about the fine-tuning, the how, the small decisions that pile up. And I’ve realized that doubt doesn’t have to be a negative force. In fact, it can be a compass that guides me to question assumptions, think deeper, and challenge myself.

I also found myself reflecting on the importance of showing up, even when things don’t go according to plan. Take yesterday for example. I had a session for Founders Pause and I made every rookie mistake in the book. I forgot my headphones, the sound was off, and I was sure that everyone in the session was frustrated with me.

It was awkward and uncomfortable.

But here’s what I’ve come to realize: despite all of my anxiety about that session, people were still connecting. They were still engaging. And by the end, I saw how the format worked, how the vulnerability and honesty in the conversation created a space where others could open up.

That experience made me think about imperfection, about how we often try to avoid mistakes or hide them. But, the reality is that the most authentic connections happen when we embrace our imperfections. I’ve always been so hard on myself, but I’m learning that mistakes are part of the journey.

They’re not just obstacles to overcome, they’re lessons in real time. They help me refine my approach, test my assumptions and adjust. That’s where the real growth happens.

And let’s talk about connection, because, in all this reflection, that’s been the thread that’s held everything together. Lately, I’ve had some beautiful experiences of genuine human connection.

One of them was with my cousin, Trang. Despite the language barrier, we managed to communicate in a way that felt almost effortless. She really listens, and there’s something so grounding about that. It reminded me of the power of truly being present with people, even if the conversation isn’t perfect, even if there’s a gap in understanding. That’s the kind of connection that matters most.

I’ve had similar moments with friends, like Tuong, where we spent the whole day climbing, talking, and just being with each other. It wasn’t planned or forced, it was natural and effortless and those moments of connection have been some of the most fulfilling.

Energy is everything when it comes to relationships. Over the years, I’ve spent a lot of time cultivating relationships with people who inspire me, who challenge me, and who make me feel understood. It’s easy to get caught up in the business of things and forget the importance of these human connections.

But as I move forward, I realize that the best collaborations happen when there’s mutual respect and understanding. It’s not just about what we do, it’s about who we’re being when we show up.

This has led me to reconsider my approach to relationships in both my personal and professional life. I’ve made the mistake of pushing for things that weren’t aligned, trying to force connections where they didn’t exist. But now, I trust the process more. I trust that the right people will show up at the right time and the best collaborations are the ones that feel effortless, grounded in trust and respect.

I’ll leave you with this: there’s no one-size-fits-all journey. There’s no one “right” way to move through life or business. But as I’ve reflected on everything that’s been happening over the last few weeks, I’ve learned that growth is often messy, that doubt doesn’t mean I’m failing and that rest is just as important as action. All these pieces fit together. They aren’t separate, they’re part of the same process.

So, what about you? Have you had moments lately where you felt unsure or disconnected? How do you manage those moments? I’d love to hear what’s been on your mind.

Keep it simple, keep it fresh, smile and let it go.

Yours truly, Trung

Chào các bạn, hello friends!

I never thought I’d be writing about coding in this newsletter.

Not because I don’t love it. I’ve been coding for years. It’s been a constant in my life through startups, big shifts, and moves across borders. But when I started this newsletter three months ago, it was for something else entirely.

A different voice. A different need. I was writing to process what I was learning about holding space, for myself, for founders, for people close to the edge of big transformation. Writing became the place where I put the emotional data from the day: what I noticed in conversation, what shifted in me, what someone’s eyes did when they finally exhaled and felt safe.

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So when someone asked me recently, “Can you write about how coding and writing are similar?”, I paused. At first, it didn’t seem like it fit. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized: they’re actually really similar.

It’s like this. In both writing and coding, you start with a vague idea and a weird mix of excitement and resistance. You sit down, and you try to turn something abstract into something real. You make a mess. You try again. Sometimes it works, most times it doesn’t. You break your own brain a little trying to solve something that feels just out of reach. And if you’re lucky, at some point you hit flow. The thing clicks. You read it or run it and go, Oh. That’s what I meant.

I remember when I was first learning to code—there was this bug that just wouldn’t budge. No matter what I tried, the system didn’t behave the way I expected. After hours of staring at the screen, it hit me: I was too focused on the problem instead of stepping back and thinking creatively. I felt defeated, but I also realized that every failed attempt was simply part of the learning process. The same thing happens with writing, when you keep rewriting the first paragraph, trying to find the right angle. And then, finally, after multiple drafts, it just clicks.

There’s a term in neuroscience for this: creative toggling. It’s the brain’s back-and-forth between generating raw ideas and shaping them into something that makes sense. It happens in coding. It happens in writing. And it happens every time we try to grow, emotionally, relationally, culturally. It’s uncomfortable, and it’s also the whole point.

Creative toggling isn’t just about switching between different tasks. It’s about our brains bouncing back and forth between the idea of perfection and the reality of making something from nothing. It’s like trying to bake a cake without a recipe. You have a vague idea of how it should turn out, but you have to experiment with ingredients, temperature, and timing. Every step is a new iteration of the original vision.

That’s the link I couldn’t see at first. Not the surface, syntax, spelling, structure, but the deeper rhythm. The rhythm of facing your doubt, iterating through discomfort, and trying again.

For the founders I work with, the same principles apply. They start with a vision, often blurry, and spend months (sometimes years) iterating through it. But they don’t stop when things get tough. They keep pushing forward. Whether they’re building a business or navigating their own personal growth, the process is similar: testing, refining, and making space for their mistakes. That’s where I see coding and writing collide with entrepreneurship. It’s a continuous cycle of creation and reinvention.

So if you’ve ever felt that same doubt about trying something new, especially something creative, I get it. But I also want to say: that feeling means you’re doing something important. It means you’re stretching. It means you care.

You don’t need to be “a writer” to write. Or “a founder” to build something. Or “ready” to begin. You just have to start.

I thought when I started writing this newsletter that I would be more confident. But the truth is, writing has been more vulnerable for me than coding. I’m used to being “correct” in code, but here, every word feels like a choice, and there’s always a fear that I’m not communicating clearly enough. It’s been humbling. But it’s also been rewarding. I’m learning to trust the process and trust myself more with each piece.

If you’re already started, what’s one small piece you can work on today? Just one line. One decision. You can cut the elephant to fit it through the door.

What if I told you the hardest part of creation is simply getting started? And that’s not just true for writers and coders. It’s true for anyone trying to make something new, an idea, a product, or even a change in their own life. The biggest shift doesn’t come from having it all figured out. It comes from taking that first step, no matter how small. And the amazing thing is, once you start, you’ve already made it further than most people who are still waiting for the “right moment” or the “perfect time.” You’ve already crossed the first line.

And if you’re stuck, just take one small step today. That’s how we move forward.

If you’re a coder, how has that shaped how you approach life outside the keyboard?If you’re a creative, how do you manage your self-doubt?

I’d really love to hear what this brings up for you, hit reply and let me know.

Lately, I’ve been noticing that the space I try to hold for others, especially other Viet Kieu and locals, other dreamers and misfits, is shaped by the same code. Whether we’re debugging a script or an identity, the question is the same: Can we make space for the mess, without shutting down?

And maybe more importantly: Can we keep going anyway?

If you’ve ever tried to explain what you’re building to your family back home, and watched their faces twist into polite confusion, you know what I mean. It’s not just code or writing. It’s a whole way of trying to make sense in a world that sometimes doesn’t know where to place you.

It’s that space in between the idea and the execution, between the vision and the result, that gets the most difficult. It’s in those moments of doubt and uncertainty where we either decide to give up or push forward. But that’s where the magic happens, in the mess, in the iterations, in the willingness to embrace imperfection.

As always, I don’t write this pretending I have answers. Just moments. And I know those moments are mine, shaped by the particular privilege I’ve had, access, safety, time. That’s not universal. But I hope the feeling underneath it is something we share.

So, whether you’re coding, writing, or just figuring things out, here’s to making space for your own mess, taking one small step forward, and knowing that it’s all part of the process.

Keep it simple, keep it fresh, smile and let it go.

Yours Truly,Trung

Chào các bạn, Hello Friends,

As entrepreneurs, we often expect things to fall into place quickly.

The fast-paced hustle, the need to grow rapidly, it’s all around us. But what happens when doubt starts creeping in and impatience takes over? In the last few months, I’ve come to realize that the real magic doesn’t come from fast growth or big numbers.

It comes from the connections we build and the relationships we nurture.

The ones I truly connect to are the ones who stick around, who show up consistently, who stay when things aren’t perfect.

It’s simple, but surprisingly few people get it.

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I've spent a lot of time in Vietnam and across Asia, and here’s the thing, most people are busy exchanging business cards and chasing the next deal, but the most meaningful connections I’ve made have come from slowing down, listening, and really building relationships that actually matter.

Looking back, it’s been less about business deals and more about finding a rhythm that aligns with my values.

I’ve traveled through Shanghai, Seoul, Hanoi, met incredible people along the way, but the journey has been more about connection than networking.

It’s been about discovering how to build in a way that is meaningful and sustainable.

I hosted my first founders’ pause earlier this month. It was a small gathering of just 5 founders, but what struck me most was how slow and meaningful the conversations were.

It wasn’t about selling or finding the next opportunity. It was about creating space for each other to reflect and grow.

We shared vulnerabilities, celebrated small wins, and really got to know one another. I didn’t expect it to have such an impact, but it did.

The energy in the room was real. Those connections felt genuine, and I realized that this is where the work is happening, not in flashy deals or quick wins.

It’s in the foundational relationships that will last.

And yes, there are moments of doubt, all the time. Impatience creeps in, especially when I feel like things aren’t moving fast enough.

I ask myself, “Am I reaching enough people? Am I doing enough?” But then I talk to someone like Ewa, who encourages me to refine my positioning, or Henry, who reminds me why I’m doing this in the first place.

These conversations, these real, human connections, are the fuel that keeps me going.

Building a business like this isn’t easy. There’s alienation in trying to follow a path that doesn’t align with the “go big or go home” mentality. There’s pressure to speed up, grow faster, follow the crowd.

But as I’ve learned, sustainable growth requires a different approach. It’s about taking your time, being strategic, and building something that has meaning. It’s a long game, and the people who can play it, the ones who stay, who stick around, are the ones who’ll make it.

So, what can you do right now? Here’s what I’ve found works:

* Curate your circles: Focus on surrounding yourself with a few people who share your values. Start small, 3-5 people who align with your purpose. These deep, real relationships form when you prioritize quality over quantity.

* Slow down and listen: Give yourself permission to not rush. Too many entrepreneurs are hustling to the next deal or milestone. Instead, ask yourself, “How can I show up for the people around me today?” You’ll see how that shifts your perspective.

* Celebrate the small wins: Don’t wait for the big moments. The little victories are just as important. Celebrate them, acknowledge them, and share them. People will notice your momentum and want to build with you.

It’s easy to feel alone when things move slowly or doubt creeps in. But the truth is, you don’t have to be alone in this journey.

There are people out there who get it. Sometimes, it just takes one conversation to change everything. That’s why I’m here, to connect, share experiences, and build something that matters.

I’ve been fortunate to meet incredible people like Kim Ninja, a systems thinker who is all about creating things that are sustainable, and David Yi, who brings an energy and perspective that refreshes everything he touches.

These connections have opened doors mentally and provided guidance when I needed it most. They’re a reminder that it’s the relationships we build that really matter.

So here’s my invitation: I’m building something bigger than just my own journey. I’m building a community of people who understand that growth isn’t about rushing or chasing the next deal, it’s about meaningful connections.

If this resonates with you, I want to hear your story. Let’s build something together.

Don’t hesitate. Reach out. Whether you need advice, want to share experiences, or just want to chat, I’m here. You can find me at

https://trung.berlin

Let’s connect, collaborate, and support one another.

Your next step starts with one simple message. Let’s get the conversation going.

Keep it simple, keep it fresh, smile and let it go.

Yours Truly, Trung

Wherever you are right now...take a breath.This is a space for builders, dreamers, and quiet revolutionaries —not to tear everything down,but to deliberately, patiently steer toward something better.Together.

Chào các bạn, Hello Friends,

Last week, we talked about the lies we were sold — that success is a product of endless hustle, endless noise, endless proving.

But burning down old stories is only the beginning.The real question is:What are we quietly building in their place?

A few months ago, I was still whispering:"See me?""Notice me?"

Now, I'm not whispering anymore.I'm showing.Building.Becoming — one imperfect, deliberate step at a time.

It’s a strange shift when you realize:The real competition was never out there.It was the version of yourself from one year ago, the one who doubted, hesitated, waited.

Today, I'm not waiting.

* I launched Founders Pause; a safe space for conscious founders to step away from the grind for a moment to find connection, clarity or insight together with like minded peers

* I closed my first coaching deal.

* I hosted my first workshop — and almost no one came.

For the first ten minutes, I sat there alone, staring at the empty Google Meet screen.I almost closed the laptop.That old voice crept in again: "Maybe you're not ready. Maybe no one cares."

But then... one person showed up.And then another.

And I remembered why I was here in the first place:I wasn't trying to impress hundreds.I just wanted to reach one soul.To make one real connection.

And that was enough.

After the workshop, one participant — Minh — sent me this note:

"Although I had seen many of the tools before, what shifted for me was Trung’s way of applying them — translating ideas into real action. I was inspired by how many people around him had taken the leap to fully commit to their dreams. If someone is serious about building their own path and needs a real nudge toward action, this workshop is exactly what they need."

That reminder — that real lives are being shifted — it changed everything for me.

This is what the Silent Revolution looks like.

Not loud wins.Not viral moments.But small, deliberate acts of defiance.Quiet faith that what you're building matters, even when no one else sees it yet.

I want to ask you something:What promises are you keeping to yourself right now — even when no one is watching?

Pause for a moment.Really feel into it.

Maybe it’s writing one more page.Launching a project that scares you.Maybe it's simply staying kind when it would be easier to be cynical.

These small acts — they don't seem like much at first.But they are how revolutions are built.Quietly. Patiently. From the inside out.

So… what do we do with all this?

How do we build in the quiet, when no one is clapping yet?

Here are a few moves that have helped me:

A Few Quiet Moves:

1. Choose Your Own Metrics.Forget likes. Forget revenue charts.Pick one internal metric for success this month.Maybe it’s: "Did I show up authentically today?"Or "Did I create something that felt aligned?"

Because when you choose your own scorecard, you free yourself from chasing applause that was never meant for you.

2. Build One Relationship, Not a Network. Find one person who inspires you — not to pitch, not to get something — but to truly connect.Send them a note, a voice message.Tell them why their work matters to you.

Movements aren't built by going viral.They're built one human heart at a time.

And if you want a few lighter steps:

* Plant Your Flag.Write down your mission, even if you only share it with yourself.

* Celebrate Invisible Wins.Notice and honor the small moments where you stayed brave.

* Protect Your Energy.You don't have to let everyone into your sacred space.

The truth is:We don’t need another wave of startups chasing the next vanity metric.We need founders who are willing to build meaning.Who will be proud when their children ask:"What did you build when it mattered?"

So I'll leave you with this:

If the only applause you ever heard was the sound of your own heartbeat...Would it be enough?

Maybe the revolution isn’t out there.Maybe it's already happening inside you.

See you on the path,Keep it simple, keep it fresh, smile and let it go!

Yours Truly, Trung

Let’s be honest for a second.

The wildest part about hustle culture? It was built on a lie.

A well-packaged, spreadsheet-backed lie that made sense on paper—but never quite in real life.

Here’s the lie: if you work hard enough, stay up late enough, raise just enough money, maybe—just maybe—you’ll be one of the winners.

VCs called it the Power Law.

They said 1 in 100 startups would make it big. So you, the founder, just had to outwork everyone else to be that one. And if you failed? Well… that was expected.

And they were right—from their side. The Power Law does work for them. Their portfolio math is built that way. But here’s the thing:

Most founders never had a shot.

That was always part of the design.

What they didn’t say out loud is what many of us now know: you’re not just playing against the market—you’re playing against a game that was never built for your well-being in the first place.

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That doesn’t mean all VCs are complicit in a harmful system—many genuinely want to help founders thrive. But we need to be more honest about the incentives, the outcomes, and how we define success.

I’ve talked to dozens of founders in the last few months—friends, creatives, engineers, operators—and the story is the same.

It’s not just burnout. It’s spiritual fatigue. A quiet asking: Does any of this actually matter?

And what we’re waking up to is this: building big things shouldn’t require burning ourselves to the ground.

The Hustle is Global—and So is the Reckoning

I’ve spent the past 10 weeks in Vietnam, and the energy here is electric. People are building like crazy—apps, marketplaces, hardware, services. Talent is world-class. Ambition is everywhere.

But something else is happening too.

Founders are exhausted. Teams are stretched. Communities are lacking structure. Young builders are asking for strategy, not just speed.

One student I spoke to said: “I want to build something meaningful, but I don’t even know where to start. Everything just feels like noise.”

Across SEA and the world, a shift is coming.

The old playbook of zero-sum competition and hypergrowth-at-all-costs? It’s crumbling.

And not because ambition is dead—but because we’ve seen what happens when we only optimize for scale:

* Burned out founders

* Fragile products

* Shallow communities

The good news? A new model is already being built.

"We’re entering a new era: post-COVID burnout, rising interest rates, and a generation that questions the 100-hour week. The old playbook just doesn’t cut it anymore."

Smarter Teams. Smaller Bets. Bigger Impact.

NFX talks about the 3-Person Unicorn—a startup that scales not with mass hiring, but with small, hyper-focused, high-trust teams.

We’re seeing it more and more: lean, values-driven founders making sharper decisions—not because they have more capital, but because they have more clarity.

But here’s the catch: these teams don’t just need resources.

They need support. They need mentorship. They need space to build without breaking.

That’s what I want to build with The Inner Circle—a private community for founders who believe in doing things differently. A place where:

* Relationships are real

* Values are aligned

* Support isn’t performative—it’s practical

This isn’t a “network.” It’s an ecosystem.

Because let’s face it—if 90% of founders won’t make it, maybe it’s time to design a system where more of them actually can.

Where the process of building doesn’t destroy the builder.

The Future Is Already Happening (Just Unevenly)

We’re not alone. Communities like Conscious Capitalism, Febe.vc, and Founders First CDC are already doing the work—quietly, consistently, intentionally.

They’re funding underestimated founders. They’re prioritizing sustainability over speed. They’re building models of growth that feel more like care than conquest.

This is the next generation of entrepreneurship.

More founders are waking up to the idea that:

Success isn’t just about what you build. It’s about how you build it.

And when you give people the right environment—not just capital, but community—they build better.

“One founder told me he raised a seed round, hit his KPIs—and still felt empty. Not because he failed, but because he built something that no longer felt like his.”

What You Can Do Today (Without Burning Out)

You don’t need to overhaul your entire life. But you can take a step:

* Block one hour this week to talk to another founder—no agenda, just connection.

* Audit your week: how much time do you spend on things that give you energy vs drain it?

* Start or join a micro-community: three people who share your values is enough.

* Ask yourself: Is your current path leading you to success or to sustainability? If not, what can you shift?

“If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.”

We don’t need more unicorns. We need more sustainable builders. We need more Inner Circles.

Let’s stop chasing the hype and start creating real momentum—together.

Because the future isn’t coming. It’s already here.

It’s just unevenly distributed.

Ready to be part of the shift?

Subscribe to The Inner Circle for exclusive insights on building smarter, more sustainable businesses, and get actionable strategies to level up your growth—without the burnout. Join a community of like-minded founders and leaders committed to making a real impact, not just a quick win.

Don't miss out on the next wave of innovation. Subscribe now and stay ahead of the curve.

Keep it simple, keep it fresh, smile and let it go

Yours truly, Trung

You ever sit down to write something important… and just can’t find the words? You want to share something big, something meaningful—something that could change everything—but instead, you find yourself frozen. Overwhelmed. Burned out. And in that silence, you realize: the very thing you’re trying to create, the leadership you’re striving for—it feels impossibly far away.

I sat down to write this newsletter with a neat little set of prompts in front of me—and absolutely no desire to answer them.

So instead of pretending, here’s where I’m really at.

Part 3 Was Supposed to Be About Leadership

I had this beautiful three-part series mapped out:

* Having the courage to build something

* Building with intention—slowly, with a long-term focus

* Leadership—and how it's not about being the loudest voice, but the one who holds the space.

I even had the perfect topic: The Founder’s Pause—a concept, and now an event, that’s all about slowing down to speed up. About creating space. About recognizing that leadership is about more than vision—it’s about transformation. Letting others rise. Being vulnerable. Listening deeply.

And still, I avoided writing about it.

Creating in a Vacuum

I’ve been publishing. I’ve been showing up. I’ve got screenshots and real messages from people saying the content inspired them.

But no one’s told me how to get better.I haven’t asked, that’s fair.But it’s also hard not to feel like I’m speaking into the void.

And maybe that’s exactly why I’ve avoided the topic—because I’m feeling the very thing that so many founders feel:tired, unsure, looking for meaning in the output.

Then We Paused

Yesterday, we hosted The Founder’s Pause. And it cracked something open.

Founders, operators, creatives—we came together not to pitch or perform, but to reflect. To talk about what’s really going on.

One piece of feedback that stuck with me came from a participant who was incredibly introverted, someone who avoids group settings. But they knew they had to change something, so they took the courage and showed up. For them, it was transformative—something they never thought possible. They felt they could be so open, so vulnerable, in a group of strangers—yet, they still felt a deep connection, as if this was a tight-knit group.

That, right there, is leadership in action. It’s what’s possible when you create the space for others to rise.

What I'm Seeing in Vietnam

And it couldn’t come at a more urgent time. I've been in Vietnam for 9 weeks. The ambition here is electric. The talent is world-class. The momentum is real.

But the systems aren’t there yet.

Everyone—from startups to enterprises—is running on overdrive. Structure is missing. Leaders are carrying too much. Talent doesn't see a clear path to grow. Founders are craving strategy, but stuck in survival.

And still, they want to play on the global stage.

From Red Ocean to Blue

Right now, too much energy is spent in zero-sum thinking. Undercutting. Competing on price. Playing defense.

But we need to think bigger. Think blue ocean—where collaboration beats competition, where we create entirely new markets and new models of working.

Because SEA has the opportunity to lead in longevity:

* Healthtech for aging nations like Japan and Korea

* Edtech and climate solutions rooted in local wisdom

* A culture that prioritizes community, connection, and care

And Vietnam can be the engine that drives it.

Why I’m Writing This

I didn’t want to write about leadership this week.

But I lived it yesterday.And I saw the start of something real.

This movement—this global community of entrepreneurs—isn’t just about building companies. It’s about healing systems. It’s about conserving nature. It’s about redefining what success looks like.

Now imagine a movement of entrepreneurs connected like this, building for a common goal: a better tomorrow. One where we have healthier communities that support each other and conserve nature to have spaces for reflection.

Wouldn’t that be capitalism that works for more than just a few select?

So here’s what I’ve learned:Leadership isn’t a talk you give or a title you earn.It’s a pause you take—so others can breathe.And build.And lead alongside you.

From Vietnam, with structure and intention. Let’s rise together.

Join the Movement.

If you're a founder who believes in building businesses with purpose, not just profit, we’d love to have you in our circle. Sign up now for early access to our community of like-minded founders who are changing the world—one ethical, impactful business at a time.

Keep it simple, keep it fresh, smile and let it go

Yours truly, Trung

This is Part 2 of a three-part series exploring the founder's journey — from starting out, to building sustainably, to leading authentically. Each edition blends personal insights, actionable advice, and reflections on the unique challenges and opportunities faced by the Việt Kiều and Vietnamese diaspora community.

Chào các bạn, hello friends,

When I was younger, my father ran a small restaurant. Whenever we introduced a new dish, he’d hand out free samples.

“Feed the people,” he’d say, “and the people will feed you.”

At the time, I thought it was just clever marketing. Years later, I realized he was teaching me something deeper: real growth isn’t about chasing quick wins — it’s about showing up, building trust and playing the long game.

I learned that lesson the hard way...

I Chased Quick Wins — Then Learned What Really Matters

As an engineer, I was hooked on complexity. The bigger the system, the more intricate the architecture — the better. I devoured knowledge like a sponge, constantly learning new frameworks, new tools, new tricks.

But beneath that drive was something else — fear. I chased money because I craved stability. Financial freedom felt like the ultimate goal and I believed mastering complex systems was the way to get there.

For a while, it worked. I was traveling constantly, eating at amazing restaurants and living what I thought was my dream life. But deep down, I felt empty. I wasn’t even sure I liked the work anymore. I was chasing results — not purpose.

I’d wake up feeling exhausted before the day even started. Emails piled up and I found myself procrastinating more — not because I didn’t care, but because I felt numb. It felt like I was moving forward, but without purpose.

It all came to a halt when burnout hit me like a wall. I felt stuck, drained and disconnected from why I started in the first place.

My real breakthrough came when I stopped running. Instead of pushing for more, I turned inward. I let go of the lie that I could power through on logic alone — and instead, I leaned into my emotions.

I asked myself:

What work gives me energy?What feels meaningful?What do I genuinely enjoy?

I started mentoring engineers — helping them grow, guiding them through challenges — and it lit me up in a way that technical mastery never had. Watching someone gain confidence and thrive felt more meaningful than anything else.

But when I started my own business last year, I forgot all of that. I fell back into old habits — obsessing over numbers, chasing clients and focusing on “how can I make this work?”

I went back to cloud engineering services because it felt safe — but every day felt like a slog. Cold emails, client outreach... God, it sucked.

Eventually, I paused. I reminded myself: I have a nest egg. I have runway. I don’t have to panic.

So I asked myself again: What actually gives me energy?

And that’s when it clicked — my best days weren’t about systems or scaling. They were about working with early-stage founders, mentoring, teaching and investing in people.

I’d spent so long chasing fast wins that I almost missed what truly mattered. Success wasn’t about running faster. It was about moving in the right direction — even if that meant slowing down.

Just like I hit a wall chasing quick wins, businesses can face the same risk.

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The Hidden Cost of Short-Term Thinking

Many founders chase rapid growth, believing it's the fastest route to success. But as history shows, focusing too much on short-term wins can come at a heavy cost.

WeWork’s Collapse — A Cautionary Tale

WeWork aggressively expanded, leasing premium office spaces worldwide without fully validating long-term demand. The company prioritized speed over stability, chasing rapid growth to impress investors. For a while, it worked — their valuation soared.

But behind the scenes, their model relied on inflated expectations rather than sustainable growth. When reality caught up, WeWork’s unstable foundation crumbled — a harsh reminder that fast expansion without purpose rarely lasts.

We’re seeing similar risks in Vietnam’s real estate market today. Rapid development and speculative investments have driven impressive short-term gains, but without solid demand or thoughtful planning, some projects are already abandoned.

Just like WeWork, chasing immediate wins without a clear long-term vision can put even the strongest ventures at risk.

VNG Corporation’s Wake-Up Call

Closer to my new home, VNG once found itself chasing trends. Eager to expand, they invested heavily in fast-growing but scattered products. Some brought quick wins — but many lacked a solid foundation.

Growth looked promising at first, but cracks started to show. Resources were stretched thin and momentum began to stall.

Realizing this, VNG made a bold pivot. They doubled down on long-term strategies — strengthening their gaming ecosystem, expanding into fintech with ZaloPay and investing in cloud services.

It wasn’t flashy growth, but it worked. Today, VNG stands as a cornerstone of Vietnam’s digital landscape — proof that sustainable success comes from focus, not just speed.

Both examples show that chasing fast results without a clear foundation can weaken even the strongest companies.

Learning from Long-Term Thinkers — From Toyota to Phở Shops

Some businesses thrive for decades by embracing slow, deliberate growth. Japanese giants like Toyota and Nintendo succeed by refining their craft and building customer trust over time — not by chasing trends.

Toyota’s Kanban system embodies this mindset. It emphasizes visual cues, steady progress and reducing waste — a method rooted in patience and precision.

This mirrors the approach of Vietnam’s best phở and bún chả vendors. These family-run shops don’t rush to expand or reinvent their menu. Instead, they focus on perfecting their recipes, one careful step at a time.

Like Toyota, they understand that lasting success comes from mastering the fundamentals — and that’s what keeps people coming back.

Zone Nine — Building Resilience with Strategy

I recently met the founders Anh and Linh of the Survival Game Zone Nine and their journey reminded me of my own early struggles.

When I first started freelancing, I took on every project I could — chasing money rather than focusing on meaningful work. It kept me busy, but I felt scattered and directionless.

Anh and Linh took a smarter path. Instead of chasing VC funding or stretching themselves thin, they built with focus and intention. Leveraging their expertise in the Unreal Engine, they created an outsourcing arm that funded their core gaming project. By designing immersive VR demos for architectural clients, they generated steady revenue — all while staying true to their creative vision.

What impressed me most was their discipline and patience. They didn’t rush growth or compromise their values. Instead, they built something sustainable — a business that’s thriving on their own terms.

Actionable Steps for Long-Term Growth

1. Define Your Core Mission — Start With Why(Simon Sinek)

Clarity doesn’t come from waiting — it comes from action. When I felt stuck, I didn’t meditate for weeks hoping for answers. I started small: reaching out to founders, asking questions and trying new ways to help.

Slowly, my mission took shape — not by thinking, but by doing.

Action Steps:

✅ List 3 problems you’re passionate about solving. Don’t stress about finding the “perfect” one — just write what feels meaningful.✅ Identify the people you most want to help. Who energizes you? Who do you naturally connect with?✅ Describe the impact you want to create in 5 years. Picture the change your work could drive — in your industry, community, or beyond.

People Tend To Overestimate What Can Be Done In One Year And To Underestimate What Can Be Done In Five Or Ten Years

Now pick one small step you can take this week to test those ideas. Reach out to someone in that space, build something simple, or start a conversation.

Action creates clarity — so start moving.

2. Focus on Deep Customer Relationships — Do Things That Don’t Scale(Paul Graham)

For me, this changed everything. Numbers used to stress me out, but connecting with founders — understanding their challenges, brainstorming ideas together, hearing their stories — that’s what gives me energy.

Forget complex strategies — just start talking to your best customers.

Action Steps:

✅ Write down 5-10 customers who love what you do.✅ Reach out personally — email, call, or meet for coffee.✅ Ask them three simple questions:

* Why do you keep coming back?

* What’s one thing that frustrates you?

* What’s one change that would make your life easier?

Listen closely. Their answers will show you what really matters — and build loyalty that no marketing hack can match.

3. Embrace Small, Consistent Progress — Focus on Resilience Over Perfection(Toyota)

Mistakes are inevitable, but learning from them keeps you moving forward. Toyotas Kaizen teaches us:

Action Step:

At the end of each week, write down: ✅ One small win (something that worked). ✅ One challenge or mistake (and what you learned). ✅ One step you’ll take next week to improve.

Think of this as your personal Kanban system — visualizing progress keeps you grounded in reality and motivated to keep going.

Final Thought:

Instead of asking:

“How can I grow fast?”

Ask yourself:

“How can I grow well?”

What If...

Imagine a generation of Vietnamese founders creating sustainable businesses that redefine industries.

Take, for example my friend, Linh Pham, the founder of Logivan. By tackling inefficiencies in Vietnam's trucking industry, Linh leveraged technology to connect truck drivers with businesses in need of transportation.

She didn’t just chase user numbers; she built trust with drivers, listened to their concerns and created solutions that added real value. Her dedication to long-term solutions has turned Logivan into a key player in Vietnam’s logistics industry.

Now, this foundation puts Logivan in a prime position to launch TruckGPT—an AI-powered tool designed to revolutionize instant transport pricing and optimize freight logistics even further.

When I think back to my father’s lesson — “Feed the people, and the people will feed you” — I realize he wasn’t just talking about food.

He was teaching me that growth comes from patience, generosity and building meaningful connections.

So ask yourself:

What’s one relationship you can nurture today? One conversation you can start? One step — no matter how small — that feels aligned with your purpose?

Clarity doesn’t come from waiting. It comes from taking action.

What’s one meaningful action you can take today that your future self — or your community — will thank you for?

Next Week:

We'll dive into the power of authentic leadership — exploring how vulnerability, storytelling and honesty can help founders build stronger teams, deeper connections and lasting impact.

P.S. I host The Founder's Pause, a weekly AMA-style session designed to help founders reflect, reset and gain clarity. If you're feeling stuck or overwhelmed, I'd love for you to join us.

Sign up today or connect with me on LinkedIn for details.

Thanks for reading The Uncomfort Zone! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.

Keep it simple, keep it fresh, smile and let it go!

Your truly, Trung