Feels a lot like 48 laws of power, but sort of different. probably the same.

Everyone is playing, whether they like it or not.

Maybe there are rules, maybe there aren’t.

Here's what I've noticed, in no particular order:

Make one thing good first, then replicate.

Watch those who’ve won, and those who’ve lost.

Understand the board. Especially the pieces pointed at you.

Go direct. Half-measures cost twice as much.

If you aren’t invited, don’t ask to go.

Never make the first offer in a negotiation.

If you’re going to speak, say what you mean.

The person who cares least has more control.

Play the long game. Everyone else is sprinting.

Might add more, might edit, or delete later.

p.s. The game doesn't end. You just get better at seeing it. Or worse, you start enjoying it.

The Rules of the Game

Treasure. Seems like everyone's chasing it.

Something out there. Something bigger. Something that'll finally prove the work was worth it.

 actually teaches: the treasure isn't the destination. It's who you become while searching for it.

Santiago starts as a shepherd. Simple life. Safe life. Predictable.

Treasure buried at the Egyptian pyramids.

Most people would ignore it. Write it off. Stay comfortable.

Santiago doesn't. He leaves everything behind and goes.

That's the first lesson. The pull exists for a reason. When something keeps calling you, it's not random. It's your life trying to tell you something.

The desert doesn't care about your dreams. It tests you. Breaks you down. Forces you to figure out what you're made of.

Santiago loses his money. Gets stuck working for a crystal merchant. Falls in love and has to choose between staying and continuing.

Every step strips away who he was. Every challenge builds who he's becoming.

The journey isn't punishment. It's preparation.

You don't find what you're looking for by accident. You grow into it. The person who starts the journey can't hold what's at the end. The process makes you ready.

The shepherd turned seeker. He's the version of you that asks "what if?" and actually goes.

The guide who doesn't hold your hand. He knows you already have the map. His job is to make you trust yourself enough to use it.

The nudge from the universe. He shows up when you're doubting everything and reminds you: the signs are real. The path is there. Move.

The cautionary tale. He dreamed of Mecca once. Now he just talks about it. Proof that settling feels safe but slowly kills you.

Love that doesn't cage. She understands Santiago has to go. Real love doesn't demand you stay small. It cheers you on, even when it hurts.

The overthinker. Studies alchemy in books but never practices it. Knowledge without action is just noise in your head.

The question isn't whether you should listen. It's whether you will.

The fear of suffering? Always worse than the suffering itself. Every time.

When you actually move toward something, doors open. Signs appear. Help shows up. But only after you take the first step.

If someone needs to hold you back to keep you, that's not love. Real love says: go become who you're meant to be.

The journey changes you. That's the point.

You're not supposed to stay the same. The transformation is the treasure.

The world's greatest lie: "We lose control of life, and fate takes over."

When you really want something, the universe conspires to make it happen.

If your dream feels impossible, you're probably on the right track.

Joy, jealousy, and fear—what you feed shapes your soul.

Things done with love and purpose echo louder.

Intuition connects us all—it's the unspoken map of life.

We all learn differently, but we're all seeking the same thing.

Life is what's happening right now—not later, not someday.

Freedom isn't being static or wandering; it's doing what feels right.

You must love the desert, but trust it? Not so much.

Where your heart is—that's your treasure map.

Faith in God is seeing His greatness through this world.

You can't outrun your heart, so you might as well lean in.

The fear of pain is always worse than the pain itself.

Happiness comes from within, not from things.

If no one believes in your treasure, dig harder.

Your eyes reflect the strength of your soul.

Don't interfere with someone's dreams; find your own.

Facing death often makes people truly live.

Love transforms and elevates the soul of the world.

When we love, we push ourselves to be better.

What happens once may never happen again. But twice? It's inevitable.

Life is generous to those who dare to follow their legend.

Dreams are the universe's way of speaking to you. Pay attention.

Santiago crosses a desert. Loses everything. Finds the gold buried back where he started—under the tree where he first had the dream.

The shepherd who dreamed of treasure couldn't have done anything with it. He wasn't ready. The journey didn't just lead him to the gold. It made him someone capable of holding it.

That's the trick. You don't just find what you're after. You become the person worthy of it first.

The messy middle—where you're lost, broke, doubting everything—that's not wasted time. That's the work. That's where you shed the old version of yourself and become someone new.

The treasure is the evidence. The journey is the transformation.

What keeps showing up in your thoughts, your dreams, your quiet moments?

And more importantly: who do you need to become to actually find it?

The treasure isn't just out there. It's in the becoming.

P.S. The treasure isn't permission to stop searching. Finding it just means you're finally ready to hold what you were always looking for.

Mystical doorway opening to golden light with treasure chest and cosmic symbols - The Alchemist journey metaphor

The Alchemist — Must Read

A manifestation board won’t fix your life.

I was taking architecture tech courses. Surrounded by images all day—floor plans, elevations, material samples. Everything visual.

we had a project where we were asked to collect images that made us feel something. Not sure what. Just things that pulled at us.

so I saved them. Put them in a folder. Looked at them from time to time.

Didn't call it manifestation. Didn't call it anything. Just... a collection of things i liked.

Instagram saves. Pinterest boards. Screenshots folder on your phone.

I'm not the first person to collect images. Won't be the last.

Looking back at that board years later and seeing what I was pulled toward then.

Did any of it happen? Some of it. Not all of it. Some things shifted.

But the interesting part wasn't whether I "manifested" anything.

And realizing how much of it I still do. Or don't.

Maybe it's just useful to look at what you're drawn to. To see it all in one place instead of scattered across apps and forgotten folders.

Maybe it's a way of asking yourself: what am I actually moving toward?

Or maybe it's nothing. Just images you like.

Either way, there's something about externalizing it. Making it visible.

But because it makes you aware of what you're paying attention to.

Open a folder. Pinterest board. Whatever.

Save things that feel like something. Don't overthink it.

Could be architecture you're drawn to. Color palettes. Workspaces. Landscapes. Whatever.

No rules. No categories. No vision statement.

Come back in six months. A year. See what you were looking at.

See if you moved toward it or away from it.

See if it says something about where you were then vs where you are now.

Some of what I collected in 2017 I'm still chasing. Some of it feels irrelevant now.

Data about what mattered then. What matters now. What stayed consistent. What changed.

I'm not claiming this is some secret to success. It's not.

It's just one way to track where your attention goes.

 Your old boards will tell you more about who you were than who you're trying to be.

Visual mood board collage featuring architecture, cities, nature, and design imagery from 2017

Inspiration

Blogs

The Rules of the Game

The Alchemist — Must Read

Manifestation or Just Images?