You’re a worm.

Don’t like hearing that? Doesn’t suit your vanity, does it? Too bad. In Spanish, the word for worm is gusano. I like that word.

When I tell people this, they usually get defensive, like being called a worm is some kind of insult. They shoot back, thinking, Who are you calling a worm? You are a worm!

And my response? Yeah, I’m a worm.

Everyone wants to be something fierce—a lion, a tiger, a bear, an eagle —powerful animals that dominate. Tough luck. You’re still a worm.

Only this time you’re just a worm imagining you’re a lion or a tiger. Doesn’t matter how much you resist—that’s the truth.

“But if I accept I’m a worm, I can change and become something like lion right?”

Nope. You’ll still be a worm, only now you’re a worm who is aware they’re a worm. And that’s the whole point.

Isn’t that liberating? Knowing you’re a worm? Knowing you’re no better or worse than anyone else in this world?

All the people you admire, envy, or think you’re better or worse than? Worms too. No one escapes it.

“But what about successful people? The ones who’ve achieved great things, built businesses, won championships?”

So what? They’re still worms. It doesn’t change their nature. They’re worms who run businesses, worms who win titles. They aren’t better or worse than you. The only difference is what they do, not what they are.

And by the way, those powerful animals—lions, tigers, bears? In the end, what eats them?

A worm.