Creating your own opportunities: How I got a job in investing

I had a 65% GPA, no connections in finance, and parents who ran a restaurant. Here's the exact process I used to land roles at a Big Four firm, a top-rated sell-side team, and eventually the buy side, including the actual LinkedIn message that opened doors.

My dream was always to work in finance, but that path wasn't obvious growing up in a small city where finance barely existed.

I grew up with incredible parents who worked tirelessly. But as immigrants without university degrees, they didn't have insight into the corporate world, and I had no network to lean on. I'm not particularly gifted academically. I attended a fairly average high school and started university with no background in commerce, finance, or business. I originally wanted to study law, but didn't get the grades. So I chose commerce instead, a decision I eventually came to love.

Still, my GPA hovered around 65%. Most major accounting firms wouldn't typically consider that for graduate roles.

The rejection phase

Despite my low grades, and the fact that I didn't fully understand debits and credits, I applied to every graduate program I could find. Rejection after rejection followed. I rarely made it past the initial screening, let alone to an interview.

But I kept trying different things, learning what methods worked better. Eventually, I realised something critical: most people were pouring all their time and energy into maximising their grades. I couldn't compete on that front. Even if I aced every subject from that point on, my GPA would only be respectable, not outstanding.

I needed a different edge.

Finding the edge

I researched relentlessly, spoke to as many people as I could, and scoured every piece of advice I could find. Over time, a path began to emerge.

I connected with people who had successfully secured internships and graduate roles. Many were generous enough to share contact details for HR and recruiters. I began reaching out, explaining my background, my interest in their firm, and why I wanted to be part of their team.

One recruiter suggested I apply for an internship instead of a graduate role. Despite being in my final year, I followed the advice. Perhaps because HR recognised my name, or because internships had more flexible academic requirements, I started making it through to interviews and assessment centres.

Then I made one of the smartest decisions of my career: I added extra subjects to my course load to delay graduation by a year, making me eligible for another round of internships rather than competing for graduate roles.

That internship eventually led to a full-time offer.

By doing things like this, you create opportunities that would not otherwise exist. When you get them, you need to be bold and take them. I could have easily thought, "Why delay graduation? Let's just finish and look for a job." If I had done that, I would not be where I am today.

I got the role not because of my grades, but because I made the effort to stand out. By reaching out directly and having genuine conversations, I left an impression. They thought, "This person seems motivated, intelligent, and personable, let's give him a shot."

The 9-step playbook

This method worked for my first role, and I've used it for every role since, including getting interviews at Morgan Stanley, Goldman Sachs, J.P. Morgan, Macquarie, Citi, and Deutsche Bank.

Credentials and experience are essential, but they're table stakes. Everyone has a polished CV. What cuts through the noise is a personal referral from someone inside the organisation.

Here's the process:

1. Identify target companies. Make a list of firms you're genuinely interested in.

2. Research thoroughly. Study everything about these companies — their values, their teams, their goals.

3. Build connections on LinkedIn. Add people who work in the roles or teams you're aiming for. Junior team members are usually more receptive, but try both.

4. Reach out thoughtfully. Send a personalised message. Here's the exact one I used seven years ago that opened doors:

Hi X, Thanks for accepting my request. I noticed you have recently started a role at Goldman Sachs in the equity research team and was hoping you could provide me with some assistance. I am a Senior Analyst in the Assurance & Advisory division at X, with experience in Transactions through a number of secondments to the Corporate Finance Team. I have always been interested in equity research as I have a passion for understanding how businesses work and how current and future events could affect the value of a company. I am hoping that you could take the time from your busy schedule to give me some advice in regards to seeking a role within equity research with my current background. More specifically, any skills I should look to develop, the types of roles I should seek in my current position as well as any general advice on the application process. I would also love the opportunity to catch up for coffee if you were keen. Thanks in advance.

I sent many of these. About 10-20% replied. Meeting those who responded taught me a great deal and built genuine connections that lasted years.

5.Follow up, but don't be annoying. After one coffee meeting, leave a polite thank-you note. Ask them to keep you in mind if any roles open up. Don't overdo it. Sometimes nothing immediate comes of it, but sometimes the person refers you to an open role — or facilitates an interview directly.

6. Use this during hiring season. When firms start recruiting, reach out to the recruiter: "Hi, I recently met with [Contact's Name] from your team, who mentioned you might be recruiting soon. I wanted to follow up on my application." Complete the online application and select "Yes" when asked if you know someone at the company.

7. Stand out. HR will notice you're connected to someone on the team. They'll reach out to that contact. If you made a good impression, your contact says, "Yes, I met with them, great attitude, motivated and capable." That endorsement is invaluable.

8. It's all you from here. A referral gets you the interview. What you do with it is on you. But you'll be better prepared than anyone else because you've already spent months learning about the role from people who do it.

9. Prepare relentlessly and don’t be dejected if the first few fail. After meeting enough people in the field, you'll have a strong sense of the role, the culture, and how to present yourself. If you land the first role - incredible, but most likely it will take a few tries before you iron out the kinks.

A note on genuineness

I know this might sound like "networking", reaching out to get something in return. I don't see it that way.

Yes, I hoped to land a role through this process. But I was equally committed to offering help to these people, whether immediately, in the future, or by supporting others trying to break into the field. This approach has helped me form lasting relationships with friends, clients, and colleagues, many of whom I still keep in touch with today.

The key ingredient is being genuine. As much as it may sound, or even feel like it, you're not using people. You're hoping someone can give you a hand, and you will do everything you can to repay them later. And you'll find that if you're genuine, many people are just happy to help.

This process takes time. When I consider changing jobs, it typically takes six months to a year to navigate the steps effectively. But it works. Consistently.

The key is thinking critically about what others are doing and then taking a different, more strategic approach. Everyone is applying online. Almost nobody is building relationships first. That's your edge,

Practical thought #5

Phase 1 (continued): Laying the foundation – meaningful skill takes meaningful time.

In this section, I’d like to share two ideas that I’ve found to hold true so far. First: there are no shortcuts. Hard work, done consistently over time, is the only reliable path to mastery. Second: your process must evolve as your skill level increases. What got you started won’t be what gets you to the next stage.

No shortcuts: Let’s return to the six-pack example. For a simple, physical goal like that, a diet and workout plan might be enough. But even then, you can’t shortcut the process or rush to the finish line like I often tried to do. You can’t do 200 sit-ups with a 20kg vest on day one. You start with 20. Then 30. Then 40. The volume and intensity builds slowly over time.

And that's when the formula is already known. For a goal like ours, you’re still figuring out what the path even looks like. That’s why the slow, layered progression matters even more. You’re learning how to learn while you’re doing the thing. Research suggests it takes, on average, 10,000 hours of deliberate practice to reach mastery—not a rule, but a useful benchmark.

I once read a great analogy for mastery. It’s like how we first learned language—specifically English. You didn’t start by writing essays. You started with the alphabet. Then you learned the sounds each letter made. Then you formed words. Then you learned how to structure sentences. Only after all of that could you understand grammar, nuance, and storytelling. You couldn’t skip straight to fluency. That same principle applies to everything worth mastering.

Your process must evolve: A good example of the body of work and evolving process is Novak Djokovic. He won his first Grand Slam at 20, but he had already been training for 16 years. He was young, but how many of us have already dedicated 16 years to our craft? Further, what he was doing at 20 looked nothing like what he did at age four. But you can’t reverse-engineer without building the fundamentals. Similarly, his routine now can’t still be what it was back then, or he wouldn’t have improved much at all. You have to lay the layers. Start small, build deliberately, and stay the course.

For me, the hardest part wasn’t the work—it was the wait. You put in the hours. You study. You practice, seemingly it feels like you are doing the same thing every day. And yet, sometimes it feels like nothing happens. I’ve come to think of it like filling a bucket with drops of water. Each drop feels like nothing. But keep going, and eventually, the bucket overflows. Suddenly, it clicks. The “aha” moment comes and all the pieces of the puzzle fall together. 

And that’s why passion—or at least a deep hunger—is so important. There will be long stretches where it feels like nothing’s working. No rewards. No breakthroughs. Just effort. If you don’t have a deep internal reason—a love for the craft, a chip on your shoulder, or something to prove—you’ll burn out.

We’ve all seen the iceberg metaphor: people see the tip—fame, money, mastery—but miss what’s underneath. Years of invisible work. Early mornings. Rejected drafts. No applause. That’s the body of work that greatness rests on. The results only show after years of effort.

There are countless examples that illustrate this point. Bruce Lee once said, "I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times." The same principle applies across fields. People often question why master craftsmen or tradespeople earn significantly more per hour than beginners—but they’re not being paid just for their time. They’re being paid for their years of accumulated skill, judgement, and the consistent quality they can deliver.

I’m sure many of you have had experiences where opting for the cheaper alternative ended up costing more in the long run. The same lesson applies to careers. While I have a lot of empathy for those who change paths—there are many valid reasons to do so—some people switch professions every few years simply because they get bored. And while there’s nothing wrong with exploring, it’s difficult to reach true mastery without a sustained focus. If you’re moving on because you’ve outgrown a role or are chasing a bigger goal, that’s growth. But if it’s change for the sake of change, mastery becomes elusive.

So now ask yourself: how long have you truly been dedicated to your craft? And are you willing to keep showing up before it starts to show?

Learn to Learn – Knowledge Compounds

Now that we’ve covered the importance of building foundational skills and putting yourself in the right environment, I want to focus on two ideas that have been especially powerful for me: knowledge compounds, and how you learn matters.

Let me start with an example. Imagine I, a finance professional, sit in on a medical lecture alongside a seasoned doctor. We’re both exposed to the exact same content—but the doctor walks away with 1,000 times more insight than I do. I may have learned more new information—because almost everything was unfamiliar—but their understanding runs far deeper. Why? Because they’ve spent years building the foundational knowledge needed to interpret, connect, and apply that information. Same input, vastly different output.

Another thought I’ve had was this: across everything I’ve done—whether in sports, games, or investing—I’ve often reached the “above average” level but struggled to break through to the elite. At the same time, I’ve noticed that people who master one field often replicate that success in completely different areas. One day, I asked myself – what if it was the way I learned? Maybe it wasn’t a talent issue. Maybe it was a learning issue. And if I could improve that—if I could learn more efficiently— Could I become better at everything I do?

The point is: knowledge compounds. The more you know, the easier it becomes to learn more. You can accelerate the process by learning smarter. Here are a couple of things that worked for me:

The Power of Why

I’ve said this before, the brain is like a muscle: the more you train it, the stronger it gets. One way I’ve trained my brain over the years is by constantly asking why, both to myself and to others. Early in my career, my main focus was simple: How do I get better at analysing businesses? And then: What job will help me build that skill?

My first role was in audit at a Big Four accounting firm. It was an interesting place to begin. On one hand, it formally taught me core technical skills—how to read financial statements and understand how large, complex businesses operate across different industries. But it didn’t teach me directly how to evaluate them. That part I had to figure out on my own.

So, I treated every engagement as a learning opportunity. I constantly asked questions. Why do customers choose this product over a competitor? Why is one company growing while another is shrinking? What role do culture, leadership, and execution play? I talked to colleagues, clients—anyone who would share a perspective. I paid close attention to business models, strategy, incentives, and customer behaviour. Over time, I began building patterns in my head.

If someone asked me to do something I didn’t fully understand, I wouldn’t just follow instructions blindly. I’d ask why—not to be difficult, but to understand the logic behind it. People who rely on instructions alone can execute when things go as expected—but when the situation shifts, they fail to adapt. If you understand the reason, you can adapt. You can think better, faster, and with more confidence.

Similarly, when I don’t understand something, I don’t just ask for the answer. I try to figure it out myself first and present a solution. I’ll say, “I’m not totally sure, but here’s what I think. Am I on the right track?” That small change turns every question into an active learning opportunity—and it’s been one of the most powerful accelerators of my growth.

Eventually, I’d walk into a new client and start forming early hypotheses: I think this business will do well because of X, Y, and Z. And since I often stayed with clients over multiple years, I could test those ideas. If I was right, great. If I was wrong, I’d ask myself: What did I miss? What flawed assumption led me there? Was it a one-off event, or should I have seen it coming?

Later, I transitioned into a role as a sell-side equity analyst—where analysing businesses was the job. By then, I had already built the habit of going deeper than the surface. I wasn’t just interested in what was happening—I wanted to understand why it was happening.

That principle—always ask why—has stuck with me ever since. And I’ve noticed that applying it early and often has made me better at forming conclusions from incomplete or disparate data, which is a valuable life skill, especially for investing.

Stop learning the hard way

I won’t dive too deep into the science here, but ask yourself:

Could I learn faster, better, and more deeply with a better method? In a world where knowledge compounds, learning how to learn might be the highest-return investment you ever make.

I once read a book by Jim Kwik called Limitless, which explores a powerful idea: your brain’s capacity for learning and performance isn’t fixed—it can be dramatically improved through the right techniques. I encourage anyone interested to read his book, but in summary, Kwik's core premise is that learning is a skill, and like any skill, it can be developed.

His approach is built around three foundational elements that make up the "Limitless Model": Mindset, Motivation, and Methods. The key insight I want to share here is that many people unknowingly use outdated, ineffective learning techniques that don’t align with how the brain actually works.

Ineffective Learning Techniques Identified by Jim Kwik:

1. Passive Reading: Simply reading material without engagement or active processing.

2. Cramming: Last-minute studying that may help short-term memory but fails to support long-term retention.

3. Multitasking: Dividing attention across tasks, which reduces comprehension and weakens focus.

4. Digital Distractions: Notifications and constant connectivity that interrupt deep concentration.

5. Rote Memorisation: Repetition without understanding or context.

6. One-Size-Fits-All Approaches: Using generic methods instead of tailoring learning to your personal style.

Better Alternatives:

1. Active Recall: Regularly testing yourself to reinforce memory.

2. Spaced Repetition: Revisiting information at strategic intervals to cement it into long-term memory.

3. Speed Reading: Training yourself to read in phrases, reduce sub-vocalisation, and improve overall comprehension.

4. Visualisation & Association: Creating mental images or links between concepts to aid memory (e.g., memory palaces).

5. Focused, Distraction-Free Study: Deep, uninterrupted work using systems like the Pomodoro Technique.

6. Purpose-Driven Learning: Tying what you learn to personal meaning or goals to boost motivation and retention.

Everyone’s brain works a bit differently, so discovering the learning strategies that suit you best can be incredibly empowering.

Reflecting on my own education, I realise now that I relied too heavily on rote memorisation. I’d re-read textbooks endlessly, hoping something would stick. I could pass exams, but I retained very little. The same pattern showed up in meetings—I would write everything down verbatim, creating a perfect record but often failing to truly understand the material.

What I do now is different: I listen, process the information in my own words—often using examples I come up with myself—and note that down instead. Over time, I’ve found that these self-created examples stick far better. Months later, I can still recall them and apply and connect it to new information, creating a deeper level insight. Just like the doctor in the medical lecture, I’ve started to build the kind of pattern recognition that allows me to make faster, deeper connections.

These traditional techniques aren’t entirely useless, but they’re far from optimal. Small tweaks in how you approach learning can result in major improvements in retention, comprehension, and long-term mastery.

The Thinking Habit

One similarity I’ve consistently noticed in the people I admire is this: they don’t just work hard—they make time to think. It’s not about constantly consuming more information or filling every minute with productivity. It’s about pausing, reflecting and giving it time to come together.

I once read that both Albert Einstein and Isaac Newton were known for taking long walks—not for fitness, but for clarity. These walks gave their minds room to wander. Many creatives did the same. So I tried it.

I began walking home in silence—no music, no podcasts—just me and my thoughts. It turned out to be game-changing. That quiet space became one of my most productive habits. Ideas connected more easily. Problems untangled themselves. In fact, the idea for this book was born during one of those silent walks.

We often think productivity is about doing more. But some of the most valuable breakthroughs come when we step back and simply allow ourselves the space to think. Give it a try. You might be surprised how many answers you already have—if you’d only give yourself the silence to hear them.

The Evolving Nature of Motivation

Since we've covered some of the more difficult aspects of growth, I want to highlight something that actually felt natural in the beginning: motivation.

At the start, staying motivated came easily. I was beginning from zero—no money, no credentials, and everything to prove. The hunger to succeed, to show myself what I was capable of, and to prove others wrong, was an intense fuel. I didn’t need discipline tricks or outside pressure. The fire was already burning.

But motivation isn’t just about being driven—it’s about understanding why you're driven. That question—Why do I want this? —is worth revisiting regularly because it will change.

I want you to think about this now - because it becomes a bigger problem later. I’ll explore that transformation more deeply in the next phase. For now, just recognise that motivation is a huge advantage when you're starting out. That early hunger is real, and it can carry you far. The key is understanding that your motivations will change, so do the hard stuff now, you’ll thank yourself later—and prepare yourself to keep going for the right reasons, long after the initial fire has burned down.

Looking Back: What I Could Have Done Better

Overall, I’m proud of my progress so far. But I believe in the power of reflection, so I often ask myself: What could I have done better? While I can’t know how things would’ve turned out if I’d done these differently, there are a few things I think about often:

1. Moving on from stale learning sooner – I underestimated the value of time. In my first two roles, I had developed all the technical skills I needed from those places by year three, but I stayed two more years because I genuinely enjoyed the people and the work. In hindsight, that extra time cost me. Your years matter a lot, especially year on. I also didn’t realise how staying too long made lateral moves harder.

2. Prioritising skill development over job performance – I focused heavily on being good at the job in front of me, but not enough on building the deeper, portable skills that would benefit me long-term. I’ll explore this more in the next section, but this shift in mindset changed everything for me.

3. Reading more, earlier – Learning from your own mistakes is powerful. But learning from others' mistakes is even better. Books are one of the highest-leverage tools for accelerated learning, and I wish I had leaned into that sooner.

4. Applying everything I just shared—sooner – Every insight in this chapter is something I learned through experience. Some of them only clicked this year. If I had understood and applied these lessons 10 or 15 years ago, I believe the compounding effects would have been exponential.

5. Set a bigger goal - One of the big mistakes I think I made was setting my original goal a little too low. My original goal was to work in, and be good at equities. I set the goal in university, and it took me about 6-7 years to eventually get there, and another five to become ‘good’ at it. Although it took longer than 10 years, on reflection, those 10 years went by in the blink of an eye and once I had achieved it, it felt like I achieved my life goal and staying motivated to keep doing more became very difficult. I will go more in-depth on this in phase 2.

Practical thought #4

Phase 1: Build the Mind that Builds the Life

Many people aspire to achieve greatness, but few are prepared for the long, often demanding road it requires. This chapter is about that road—not just the inspiration that gets you started, but the real mechanics of growth. It explores how complexity, deliberate practice, and your environment can shape whether you move beyond being merely good to becoming truly great. If you're aiming to reach a world-class level in anything, this is where the deeper work begins.

The principles behind growth may sound simple. And conceptually, they often are. But translating a vision into reality is rarely straightforward. That’s why truly exceptional outcomes—whether in business, sport, creativity, or personal growth—remain rare and are often rewarded disproportionately.

This chapter focuses on the first phase of that journey: laying strong foundations, facing early challenges, and developing the mental frameworks that keep you moving forward. Everyone’s path is different, but the underlying principles are often the same.

Before we dive deeper, I want to offer one core piece of advice: Don’t be afraid to dream Dream Big. A goal that feels out of reach isn’t a reason to hold back. Here’s why:

1. Aim high. You've probably heard this before—but it's worth repeating: when you aim high, you pull more out of yourself. Even if you fall short, you’ll land further than you would by aiming low and hitting the mark.

2. Life is a long game. Many goals that feel overwhelming today become entirely achievable over time. The person you become in five years may be far more capable than what you can imagine today. I want you to think about when you first started school, university or your job - how overwhelming was it at the start, and how much did you grow by the end? Don't limit your potential by setting the bar too low.

3. Your brain adapts to the bar you set. Psychologically, we’re wired for loss aversion—we hate falling short more than we enjoy exceeding expectations. If you set a small target, your mind subconsciously calibrates just enough to hit it. If you set a bold one, it gears up accordingly. Your subconscious doesn’t aim to overshoot—it aims to reach.

Be prepared for change. Big goals unfold over years, sometimes decades. Throughout this journey, chances are, both you and your dream may evolve. Your priorities will shift, your values will deepen, and your original vision may refine or pivot entirely. That’s not failure—that’s life.

Set the goal: Define Your Greatness

Define your dream clearly. Vague goals like “I want to be rich” or “I want to be an entrepreneur” sound ambitious—but they don’t create action. They’re too vague to anchor a plan. How much money is rich? What is an entrepreneur? Can I call myself one now that I have this website? Also - if your goal is simply “I just want to be happy”? That’s not a goal. That’s a wish. Go grab a Happy Meal and find another book.

Now consider this instead: I want to build a global education platform that improves how people learn. From there, you can expand on it and create a more detailed plan:

“I want to build a business that helps young people fall in love with learning again—starting with a free weekly newsletter that teaches practical life skills like critical thinking, time management, and how to learn effectively, growing into a learning platform and community, and ultimately becoming a global brand that redefines how education prepares people for real life.”

That kind of clarity can make a real difference. It gives you purpose, a rough timeline, and something tangible to work toward. With a clearer picture, it becomes easier to reverse-engineer the steps, track your progress, and stay committed. In a world where effort compounds over time, having that kind of direction might just be one of the most valuable things you can give yourself.

Since this chapter is about pursuing greatness, let’s not tiptoe around it—set a great goal. For me, that means becoming the greatest personal investor ever.

To support that, I’ve set a near-term financial milestone: building a $5 million portfolio from a modest base over five years. It’s aggressive, but attainable and helps provide a structure that I can build a process around. I don’t need to hit it perfectly— that’s not the point. It isn’t there to pressure me into chasing short-term wins or taking reckless risks. It’s there to frame my thinking, shape my habits, and give me a timeline to work toward.

If I end up with a $2–3 million portfolio instead of five, I won’t see that as a failure. I’ll see it as progress and I will still be incredibly proud. Use the short term milestone as a mini-target, but do not be too caught up in it and don’t be disheartened if you miss it. What matters is that you keep moving in the right direction.

Too often, we make the mistake of setting short-term goals that are too big, and long-term goals that are too small. We overestimate what we can do in a year, and underestimate what’s possible in a decade. So when I talk about setting a big goal, I focus more on the longer-term vision—something aspirational enough to inspire action, yet distant enough to give you room to grow into it.

I’ll be honest—saying greatest personal investor out loud feels uncomfortable. It sounds unrealistic, and logically, I know I may never achieve it. But if I let that thinking shape my goal-setting, I’m already limiting what’s possible. This isn’t about lying to myself —it’s about refusing to set ceilings before I’ve even started climbing. It’s about telling myself I can, instead of I can’t. Too often, we shrink our ambitions due to lack of belief or to avoid disappointment and looking silly. I’m trying to do the opposite: remove the internal dialogue that says, “Be realistic,” and instead create the conditions where extraordinary progress is possible.

That said, there’s a line between bold ambition and reckless delusion. I’m not advocating quitting your job on a whim or betting your life savings on a loose idea. But I am saying: don’t limit yourself out of fear. The challenge is to find the edge of what’s possible—and then lean just past it.

What matters more is the direction and the discipline to keep moving. And in studying people who’ve achieved extraordinary things—from investors to athletes to artists—I’ve noticed striking similarities in how they approach the journey. Daily routines. Patterns of thought. Systems of practice. Resilience under pressure. These qualities transcend disciplines—and they’re what this chapter is about.

As you read on, I’ll share how I think through my own goals, almost like an internal dialogue. I’ll draw from different fields, my own experiences and what I’ve learned from people much greater than myself. I encourage you to bring your own ambitions into the picture, think of yourself, your goals and what you can do while you read on. The process works—whatever you're chasing—if you apply it with intention.

The First Step – Map the Gap

Once you’ve set a bold goal, the next question naturally follows: Where do I even start? That’s the question I asked myself when I first committed to becoming a great investor.

The best starting point—when you’re unsure—is to study those who’ve already achieved what you’re chasing. For me, that meant looking at the world’s greatest investors and reverse engineering back to myself. What skills do they have that I need to build?

A piece of advice is to find someone whose path or style resonates with you. It’s far easier—and more sustainable—to lean into your natural interests and strengths than to force a fit. Look for people in your field who both inspire you and reflect the kind of work you want to do.

For me, that meant gravitating toward investors like Charlie Munger and Peter Lynch. I admired their thinking, and I genuinely enjoyed studying their approach to analysing business quality. That became my starting point. The same applies to any field—if you're into music, study musicians you love. If it’s sport, learn from athletes you enjoy watching. The key is to find that intersection between what excites you and what you're naturally good at. That’s where momentum begins.

Once you’ve decided on the people, turn the lens inward and Map the Gap. Compare yourself to the people you admire. Create a flowchart or mind map that asks: What makes them great? What are the core skills, mindsets, and habits they’ve mastered? How do I begin developing those?

Early on, you’re likely operating with limited information. That’s okay. The most effective shortcut at this stage is imitation. This is your apprenticeship phase—the time for observing, absorbing, and copying. Originality can come later.

So, the first big step became: How do I become a professional investor? And how do I get better at analysing businesses?

Start, then plan

Start, then plan might be more powerful than plan, then start.

One of my biggest early challenges was that I knew so little that I didn’t even know what I didn’t know. That kind of inexperience can either overwhelm you or give you false confidence. It creates planning paralysis—a sense that you're not ready or that you need to wait for the "perfect" moment to begin. But that moment rarely comes. And when it does, the confidence you feel is often misplaced. The fastest way through both is simple: Start. Do something—anything. Analyse companies. Make paper trades. Pick up the Guitar. Build that website for your online business. You’ll quickly see what works and what doesn’t. You’ll begin to recognise patterns and build real judgment—the kind you can’t get from reading, only from doing.

It reminded me of when I first watched tennis. I remember thinking, “Why don’t they just hit the ball where the opponent isn’t?” Then I tried playing—and quickly realised I didn’t have the slightest idea. The key learning? I only realised when I started playing.

Too many people spend too much time crafting the perfect plan—and wait too long to start. The truth is, there is no perfect plan. One thing is almost guaranteed: your original plan won’t work. As Mike Tyson put it, “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.” That is apt here.

I’ve spoken to many entrepreneurs, founders, and CEOs, and one thing stands out—what we see as a polished, successful business is often nothing like what they originally set out to build. They had a vision. Then they launched. And very quickly, reality showed them that their idea didn’t work the way they thought it would.

Many people give up at this point. But the successful ones iterate. They adapt. They don’t get it right the first time—they survive the punches and adjust as they go.

Netflix started as a DVD mail rental service. Airbnb began as a way to rent out air mattresses to conference attendees. YouTube launched as a video dating site. There are thousands of stories like this.

Even this book wasn’t part of some grand vision. In fact, the idea originated from an online clothing blog. Like everything else, it evolved—through action, not planning.

Build the Base: Master the Fundamentals

Once you’ve started, the focus shifts to developing real, foundational skills. This is the technical phase—the grunt work. And while it’s not what makes someone great, it’s what makes greatness possible.

Think of it like music. Every great pianist can play scales and classical pieces. What sets them apart isn’t technical execution—it’s interpretation, creativity, expression. But none of that exists without first mastering the basics. The same is true in every domain.

This phase is critical. And it’s also one that many people never get past. Why? Because it’s slow. It’s uncomfortable. And if you’re not careful, you can start learning the wrong things or building bad habits without realising it. Once those habits stick, they’re hard to unlearn.

Three points have been particularly important for me here:

1. The Power of Environment. Learn from the right people. Surround yourself with those who’ve demonstrated excellence, those who have actually done it. Ideally, find people willing to mentor you—even informally. The right environment accelerates everything. The wrong one can waste years.

2. Put in the work and build the Foundation. Skill-building takes time. Be patient, and put in the reps. Don’t rush the process or skip steps—what you skip now will resurface as problems later. Master the fundamentals. What feels basic today will become the backbone of creativity tomorrow.

3. Learn to learn. Everyone’s brain is wired differently. Most of us were taught to memorise and regurgitate—but that can be inefficient. Knowledge compounds so start figuring out what helps you retain and apply information. Whether it’s active recall, spaced repetition, teaching others, or analogies, your learning method matters.

This stage isn’t glamorous. But it’s required and where your edge is built.

Shape the Soil: The Power of Environment

Put yourself in the best environment you can access. Find places known for developing talent. Work under people you want to become. Surround yourself with excellence.

And then: show up. Do the work. Sit next to them. Absorb everything you can. Your brain learns more than you realise by just being there. 

Let’s start with an example to illustrate the Power of Environment: the NBA draft system. In theory, the league is designed for parity—every year, the worst-performing teams get the first pick of the best new talent. Over time, you’d expect that talent to even out and championships to be distributed more or less equally across teams.

But that’s not what happens. The top five franchises have won about 70% of all championships. Why? Some would argue because of geography, but New York and the LA Clippers haven’t won a title in decades. The more likely reason is Structure. Culture. Environment. These winning organisations have systems that develop talent and sustain excellence.

At some point in my journey, I began to realise that the gap between good and great isn’t defined solely by talent or hard work—it’s also shaped by the environment. Both matters. Your effort determines how far you're willing to go, but your environment determines how much that effort compounds. The right setting amplifies your strengths, sharpens your thinking, and helps you stretch beyond what you thought was possible.

I began my professional career at one of the Big Four accounting firms. While it may not have been the flashiest or most exciting workplace, it was one of the best environments I could have started in. The pace was fast, the standards were high, and the learning curve was steep. I was exposed to large, complex businesses and surrounded by capable, driven people. There were formal training systems and a strong culture of continuous development. And because of the concentration of talent, I was able to find mentors who genuinely helped unlock how I think—how to ask better questions, structure clearer thoughts, and develop sharper judgment.

Humans naturally want to perform well and earn praises, but to succeed in that environment, I had to do more than just show up. I had to earn my place. That meant working hard, yes—but also developing social and networking skills, learning how to be coachable, and figuring out how to teach others. These weren’t just professional tools—they were foundational life skills that shaped who I am today.

It was demanding, and I didn’t fully appreciate just how transformative it was until much later. But now, a decade on, I can feel the difference it made. That high bar of excellence hardwired my discipline and recalibrated my expectations of what 'normal' effort looks like. I saw first-hand how even the smartest people pushed themselves—how working late, good was never enough, and delivering with precision was just the baseline.

Even when I’m not at my best, I’ve noticed that my baseline work ethic tends to be higher than most. It shows up not just in my output, but in how I approach problems and the standards I set for myself. Compared to others who haven’t had to operate with that same level of intensity, the contrast can be quite clear. Sometimes I catch myself wondering—if I’d started out in a more rigorous academic environment or joined a top-tier hedge fund early on, how much further might that have taken me? Where might I be today?

People often overestimate the role of personal willpower and underestimate the silent force of environment. Your surroundings—who you’re around, what’s considered normal, and what standards are set—shape nearly everything about your development. Even the most talented person can fade in the wrong culture. I’ve seen brilliant, hardworking people burn out under bad bosses or stagnate in weak teams. And I’ve seen average people thrive simply because someone took the time to mentor them properly and were able to bring out the most in them. 

If I had to put numbers to it, I’d say 60% of performance comes from the individual, and 40% from their environment. But most people also have some control over the environments they choose or create. If you account for that, it’s closer to 70/30.

Elite Results Without Elite Access

Let’s acknowledge reality—not everyone gets into Harvard or lands a role at Point72 or Millennium. That kind of elite access often comes down to things you can’t control: where you grew up, what school you went to, or who your parents know. The playing field isn’t level, and I won’t pretend otherwise.

But don’t let perfect be the enemy of possible. If the ideal environment is out of reach, build the best one you can. There are still levers to pull. It may take more effort, but it’s far from hopeless. Here are a few things I’ve observed:

1.       Start with structure—even if it’s not elite. Any structured learning environment—no matter how modest—is better than trying to figure it all out on your own. When you’re early in your journey, you don’t yet know what’s important, or even what questions to ask. Structure gives you feedback, routine, and forward motion. That could be a smaller firm, a local club, or even a short course with clear guidance. Just start somewhere. As your experience builds, you can work your way into better environments. Don’t wait for perfect. Just start, then grow from there.

And here’s something people overlook: even in less-than-ideal environments, you can learn a lot—especially about what not to do. I’ve worked with poor leaders and broken systems, and those experiences were just as instructive in showing me the kind of habits, mindsets, and cultures I wanted to avoid. Bad examples still teach you—if you’re paying attention.

2.       Reach out. Many successful people are more accessible than you think. They’re often happy to share advice if you ask the right questions. A genuine message, specific to their work, can open more doors than you realise. And this doesn’t have to be limited to your direct workplace. You can layer mentors on top of your day job—reach out to people in adjacent fields, industries you’re curious about, or even roles you one day want to grow into. Curiosity compounds—and people respect it.

3.       Build your own mentors. Some of the most influential people in my life don’t even know I exist. Buffett, Munger, Kobe—these weren’t just idols. I studied them. I read every book they wrote and every book written about them. I read their letters, watched their speeches, and copied their routines. I tried to understand how they thought, why they made certain decisions, what principles guided them. This became my version of mentorship. You can do the same in any field. With AI, podcasts, books, YouTube, and newsletters, it’s never been easier to learn from the best—even if you never meet them.

No, it’s not the same as being in the room. But it’s far better than wandering aimlessly. The key is to create structure and surround yourself—physically or virtually—with excellence. Feedback loops. High standards. Mentorship, real or remote.

I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have had one of the best mentors I could have hoped for. He wasn’t just exceptional at his job—he genuinely cared about my growth and took the time to guide me thoughtfully. One piece of advice I’d offer is this: if you have the opportunity, invest in building a relationship with a mentor who clearly prioritises your development over their own ego or personal agenda—especially if they’re your direct manager. When you’re confident they have your best interests at heart, it becomes much easier to absorb feedback with openness rather than defensiveness. That kind of mentor can accelerate your growth in ways that few others can.

I call it luck, but if you asked him, I’m sure he’d say he took me on because I was eager to learn, passionate, open to feedback, and someone who took responsibility rather than placing blame—and, hopefully, just a decent person to be around.

You may not have access to the best starting point. But if you take control of your inputs, your mindset, and your environment—even a second-tier launchpad can take you somewhere elite.

Dreams without process are just wishes

When I was in my early twenties, I told myself I'd be a millionaire by 30. I'm now 34. I worked incredibly hard. I'm still not a millionaire. Here's what I got wrong

The millionaire delusion

I was ambitious, reasonably intelligent, and working extremely hard. I had always thought to myself: by the time I'm 30, I'll be a millionaire. Doesn't this sound familiar?

I did work really hard, but it turns out hard work alone wasn't enough. I used to think becoming a millionaire would just sort of happen, difficult, yes, but achievable if I just kept grinding away.

No.

The difference between a dream and reality lies in having a clear, structured process and the discipline to follow through. I had the dream. I had the work ethic. I didn't have the process.

Studying successful people taught me that their achievements aren't accidents. They have dreams, sure, but what truly sets them apart is their plan, a clear, practical process they follow relentlessly. The greater their success, the more intense their process, and the longer they sustained it.

Warren Buffett reportedly read around 500 pages a day for decades. With that level of consistent dedication, how could he not become exceptional?

The six-pack principle

Let me use a simpler analogy. Imagine wanting a six-pack. Even if you worked out and ate reasonably well, it's still very unlikely to happen.

But if you create a specific plan, a consistent gym schedule, a meal plan focused on lean protein and controlled calories, and daily core exercises, tracked your progress, adjusted the plan if results aren’t showing and just stuck with it, you will eventually see those abs. It's almost guaranteed. Virtually anyone can achieve it if they stick to the process.

This sounds obvious, right? So why don't we apply the same logic to our bigger dreams?

This is likely because gym routines are proven by millions of others, but our own dreams are bespoke and must be tailored to our skills and situation. What often ends up happening is a incomplete, or flawed plan. My millionaire dream failed precisely because there was no real process guiding my actions. I worked hard and invested some money, but I never mapped out the necessary steps, the math, or realistic timelines.

Think about your own goals: is the process you are currently following actually designed to get you there?

What the process actually looks like

Let's say I set that millionaire goal again. This time, I might start with a process that looks like this:

Save 30-40% of my monthly salary and immediately deposit it into a dedicated investment account. Break it down into daily budget targets.

Aim for an ambitious but achievable average annual return of 10-20% through strategies where I have proven skill, backed by a sound investment philosophy.

Add a supplementary income stream to accelerate progress.

Regularly track progress against targets and adjust as needed: increase savings rate, refine investment strategy, increase income.

With this framework, I can estimate how long it will take to reach $1 million and adjust the inputs if I want to accelerate the timeline. The key insight is simple: once the process is defined, the outcome becomes largely a function of time and discipline.

The math in 10 years:

At 10% returns: ~$63k per year ($5,200/month). $627k total invested and $373k in returns.

At 12.5% returns: ~$56k per year ($4,600/month). $556k total invested and $444k in returns.

At 15% returns: ~$49k per year ($4,100/month). $493k total invested and earn $507k in returns

This makes the goal tangible. I know exactly what level of saving is required and can plan my income, spending, and career decisions accordingly.

Of course, this is a simplified model, saving $63k annually at 21 is very different from doing so at 29. But that’s not the point. Without a clear framework, I defaulted to spending without intention and never properly aligned my behaviour with a long-term objective.

The same principle applied to my career. Breaking into finance from a small city with no connections seemed impossible, until I built a step-by-step process: earn grades, land an entry-level role, get credentialed, network deliberately, learn the industry inside-out. Each individual step was achievable. Together, they got me there. (I wrote about the specific playbook in my post on how to get hired.)

Big goals are conquered through a series of small, deliberate actions. Many never start because they do not know the right process, and that's OK. Start, then refine.

Your dreams need a blueprint

Dreams are powerful motivators, but they aren't enough on their own. To turn aspirations into reality, you need more than desire, you need a plan, a structured process, and the relentless follow-through to execute it.

If you hit roadblocks or aren't sure how to build your process, seek out mentors, coaches, books, or peers who've successfully navigated a similar path. Just copy someone thats achieved what you want to achieve, and adjust it to your own situation as needed. They can help you refine your blueprint.

So ask yourself: what's your dream? And more importantly what are you actually doing to achieve it?

What Kobe Bryant taught me about competition

Kobe's confidence didn't come from talent. It came from a strategic plan to create an advantage that could never be closed. That lesson resonated with me.

Growing up, one of my idols was the late, great Kobe Bryant. He had it all, the confidence, the skills, the style, the swagger.

At first, I admired him purely for his skills on the court. Over time, as I studied him closely, his speeches, interviews, and the unique way he approached life. I began to realise there was something deeper. Kobe's mindset was unlike any other, he was a true savant on and off the court, and there is no doubt in my mind he would have went on to achieve incredible things.

One thing that stood our from very early on, which I later applied to aspects of my own life (see next post) was that hard work alone isn't enough. You also need to understand what everyone else is doing, so you can do something different to stand out. An analogy in my investing world is that you need to know what the market thinks to identify where the market is wrong.

The 4am advantage - this goes beyond just working hard

In an interview, Kobe was asked about his confidence and whether he knew he was going to be the best. His answer was simple but powerful.

He explained that early on, he observed most players showed up at the gym around 7 or 8am. So he decided he would start at 4am. He knew that by doing this, he would gain three extra hours every single day, and that over the years, this would create an advantage that could not be closed.

"If I am better than you to begin with, and I continue to work harder than you, how do you ever expect to catch up?"

While many interpreted this simply as ‘working hard’ to me, it was more than that. His confidence came from having a thoughtful, strategic plan to create an insurmountable advantage, and following through on it.

It was not just about working hard. That didn't matter if others worked harder, or if you worked so hard and inefficiently that you burned out. It was about working smart. He knew early on that he just had to do a little more than others (or in his case, a lot more), consistently over a long period of time, and this process would ultimately pay off.

The lesson

Kobe's approach taught me something crucial: success is not always about hard work in isolation. It's also about understanding what others are doing and then doing something different, or something more.

This doesn't just apply to sport. It applies to careers, to investing, to anything where you're competing against other people for a limited number of spots.

The key is thinking critically and always asking yourself - What everyone else is doing? Can I do anything differently? and then finding a strategic edge. Not a shortcut, an edge. Something that compounds over time and creates separation that can't easily be closed.

Hard work is still 80-90% of the driver of success. This strategic thinking makes up the final 10% that helps you stand out. But without the fundamentals, it's meaningless.

This mindset has propelled me forward in various aspects of life, especially in financial markets, where having a unique perspective is crucial to staying ahead of both the market and competitors.

But one of the most impactful places I applied it was in how I approached getting hired — which I'll cover in this post:

How to get hired when no one responds

Seeing beyond the hammer

Understanding why smart people can have such varying opinions using Charlie Munger’s thinking framework.

This post explores Munger's multi-disciplinary decision-making model: why we're all trapped in our own version of reality, and what it takes to break out of it.

I recently read Poor Charlie's Almanack, a book about Charlie Munger that sparked a series of reflections on decision-making, why people think the way they do, and why it's often so difficult to change someone else's mind, or for them to change yours.

A person's life is shaped by the series of decisions they make. While a single choice may not always matter in the grand scheme, small improvements in each decision over time creates a profound impact. If we can learn to make better decisions by adopting a stronger decision-making model, we can also create a better life.

Throughout the book, Munger emphasises a concept he calls "multi-disciplinary decision-making." He often illustrates this with an adage:

"To a man with a hammer, every problem looks like a nail."

I understood the concept in theory, but I didn't really grasp it. What did it actually mean? How did it apply to my life? After thinking it over for a while, I finally had an "aha" moment that opened my eyes to many past experiences.

The family business

My family ran a small but relatively successful business, which they and a few others built from the ground up. Growing up, I saw firsthand how acting in the best interests of the business had an immensely positive ripple effect on the community.

My parents were able to support me financially, provide jobs for fellow immigrants, and even offered help to friends and family during tough times. I saw this small business support many families, make customers happy, and help popularise Chinese cuisine in a small city.

A large part of what made it successful was that my parents treated people fairly and didn't exploit employees or the community. No single party took an outsized share, everyone benefited. Over time, acting in the best interests of the business led to the best outcomes.

So when I hear arguments about blindly raising the minimum wage or adding employee benefits to fight the "big bad corporate bosses," my immediate reaction is scepticism. If we prioritise employee benefits at the expense of employers, eventually business owners will wonder why they're taking all the risk for diminishing rewards. Why not just close down and work for someone else? And if that happens, everyone loses their jobs.

I'd find myself in debates with people on the opposite side of these issues, and we could never reach common ground. Eventually, I concluded that I must be smarter than they were, that they just didn't get it.

Have you ever read comments from Redditors, or worse, Facebook where you think this idiot has no idea?

Two versions of reality

After reflecting on Munger's model, I finally understood the root of these disagreements.

In my version of reality, prioritising the business is the best decision, because that's what I know. But perhaps the person I'm debating with grew up in a different environment. Maybe their parents were employees who worked for bosses that didn't care, who exploited workers and the community. For them, the best choice isn't to act in the interest of the company, it's to protect themselves and prioritise the welfare of employees, because they see bosses as inherently exploitative.

That is their version of reality. And it's just as real to them as mine is to me.

Here's a simpler way to think about it: imagine I'm from Earth, where water is cold, and someone else is from Mars, where water is hot. We could never convince each other otherwise. If we're then placed on a third planet, this becomes risky, we might assume water is cold and jump into boiling water, or vice versa.

“We all carry cognitive biases shaped by our own versions of reality. If we don't consider other possible realities, our decisions may be limited or even wrong, because we're trying to fit a unique situation into a single model.”

If you put a doctor, accountant, psychologist, athlete, and scientist in a room and ask them to solve the same problem, each would approach it differently based on their expertise. The best solution would likely require a blend of all their perspectives. By drawing on multiple disciplines, we can make better decisions.

The takeaway

Going back to the "third planet" example: instead of blindly jumping into water I assume is cold, I should stop, dip my toe in, and assess the situation before making my decision.

When assessing a company, or deciding how to act as a business owner or employee, I need to evaluate the specific situation rather than assuming that acting in the company's best interest is always the right path. If the company has strong leadership, my model might work well. But if the management, conditions, or culture are very different from what I'm used to, it may be wiser to adjust my approach.

Three things changed for me after understanding this:

First, being open-minded became much easier. I now understand that there is rarely a one-size-fits-all answer and that every situation can be different.

Second, if we go through life with only one discipline, we are heavily restricting our ability to make the best decision. Through learning, people can broaden their decision-making framework by adapting concepts from other disciplines, psychology is an easy one that Munger constantly points to.

Third, and this probably saves me the most time, I've realised I can't always change someone's mind. It's the same as telling them the water in the ocean is boiling hot. Sometimes you just have to accept that their reality is different from yours, and move on.