You’re Only Crazy Until You’re Right
When a group gets big enough, there’s room for everyone.
The weirdos, the jokers, the perfectionists, the quiet people just trying to get through the day — all of them fit.
That’s the whole point of living and working together: we’re not the same.
Difference isn’t a problem. It’s the oxygen.
Big groups make space for people to actually be themselves.
You get to be you.
I get to be me.
And in that overlap, we get perspective — different angles, different instincts, different ways of seeing the exact same thing.
That’s how you get to ask the real questions:
“What are we doing here? What’s the message? What are we trying to say?”
And with that many voices in the room, nobody gets to be the gatekeeper anymore.
Not one person, not one ego, not one version of “the right way.”
Which is why I’ve never understood the people who demand conformity.
Two people can do the same thing well, and do it completely differently.
So why is one “right” and the other “wrong”?
Who made those rules?
What’s the actual goal — and who’s getting us closer to it?
Because the road we’re on isn’t straight.
It’s not even singular.
If we’re heading to the same destination, who cares whether you got there by plane, boat, train, or limping on foot?
Some of us take strange, winding routes for reasons that are real and personal.
Some of us move differently because life pushes us differently.
Shouldn’t that be supported?
Isn’t that what a real community does?
Just because you don’t like my road doesn’t make me wrong.
And it doesn’t mean I’m calling you wrong either.
It just means we’re doing things in different ways, for reasons we shouldn’t always have to explain.
So before you challenge my path, ask yourself:
If you’re asking for help or clarity — what am I doing that scares you?
Why come at me just because you don’t understand or agree?
Who gave you authority over my direction?
Isn’t freedom the point?
Isn’t trying to become the best version of ourselves supposed to involve going our own way?
Every great road ever carved was made by someone the world thought was insane at the start.
You’re only crazy until you’re right — then you’re a visionary.
Maybe instead of trying to silence the oddballs, we should be paying attention to them.
I visited Dubrovnik once, and the tour guide told us something brilliant:
In the old days, even “the crazy ones” were allowed to hold political office.
Because a normal man might have one good idea in his entire life —
but a crazy person has a thousand ideas a day.
And maybe, just maybe, one of them is the one idea the world actually needs.