The Nail in the Porch: When Success Becomes a Trap

I heard this story years ago at a conference, and it’s stuck with me ever since.

A man’s driving through Alabama, totally lost, so he pulls up to this old house on the side of the road. Big front porch. Weathered wood. One of those places that looks like it hasn’t changed in 50 years—and that’s the charm of it.

There’s this older guy sitting on the porch in a rocking chair, suspenders, jeans, the whole deal. And next to him is this big, lazy hound dog. You can just hear the scene.

As the lost man gets out and walks up to the porch, the dog lets out this low, long howl—the kind of sound that makes you think something might be wrong. But he’s not moving, not aggressive, just lying there like a pile of tired fur.

The lost man smiles, nods at the old guy, and asks for directions. Just as the old man starts to speak, the hound howls again. Then again. Then again.

Finally, the man asks, “Is there something wrong with your dog?”

The old man shrugs, pats the dog on the head, and says,
“Nah, he’s just layin’ on a nail.”

The man, confused, says, “Why doesn’t he move?”

And the old man—without skipping a beat—goes,
“Well, I reckon it just don’t hurt enough.”

Boom. That line hit me like a brick.

That’s us, isn’t it?

We howl. We complain. We post. We vent. We talk to our coach, our therapist, our friends. But we don’t move.

Why? Because the pain’s uncomfortable—but not enough.

The job is draining, but it pays well.
The business is burning us out, but it’s our business.
The life looks shiny on paper, so who are we to want more?

Comfort becomes the trap. Not because we’re lazy—but because we’ve convinced ourselves that moving would be worse than staying stuck.

And here’s the twist most people miss:

For high-achievers, success can become its own kind of comfort.

It’s not just the fear of failing.
It’s the fear of what it means to slow down.
To pause. To rest. To not be constantly doing.

For some of us, stillness is more terrifying than risk. The idea of stepping back feels like weakness. Like losing momentum. And that mindset? It keeps us stuck in a loop of always doing, always pushing, always trying to outpace the discomfort.

But if we’re honest with ourselves—and I mean brutally honest—there are nails we’re all lying on.

That constant pressure in your chest after a full day?
That’s a nail.

The guilt you feel when your kid asks why you’re on your phone again during dinner?
That’s a nail.

The moment you realize you haven’t laughed—really laughed—in a week?
Yep. Nail.

And we howl. We just do it differently.
We scroll.
We binge content.
We fill our lives with to-do lists and strategy podcasts and productivity hacks.

And all of it? Just noise to keep us from noticing how much that damn nail is starting to sting.

I’ll let you in on something most people won’t say out loud:

Growth? Real, honest, transformative growth?

It doesn’t start with strategy.
It doesn’t start with mindset hacks.
It starts with a choice.

Not a massive, "burn everything down" kind of choice. But a quiet one.
The moment you realize you’re done howling.
The moment you decide that even though it’s going to be uncomfortable, you’re getting off the nail.

That’s it.

For me, that moment came when I realized I had built a business I didn’t want to run.

I was successful by every external measure. But inside? I was disconnected. I was tired. And even though I had a system—MindFlow, my own framework—I wasn’t living it.

I was doing what I see so many high-performers do. I was powering through.
Being productive.
Succeeding.
And completely out of alignment.

The moment that changed everything wasn’t dramatic. It was quiet. I was sitting at home, watching my daughter play, realizing I had been physically present but emotionally absent all day. And it hit me: this is not the life I want to remember.

So I got off the nail.

And yeah, it hurt.
I had to confront old beliefs. I had to slow down. I had to face things I had buried under ambition and productivity.

But man, was it worth it.

Now I work with high-performing professionals who feel that same dissonance.

The ones who look like they have it all together—but secretly feel like they’re suffocating under the weight of it all.

They don’t want another morning routine. They don’t need a 47-page eBook on leadership. They need space. Clarity. Permission to reset. And a coach who actually gets it—not from theory, but from lived experience.

And listen… if this feels a little too close to home right now, I get it.

You don’t need to blow up your life.
You just need to notice the nail.
And ask yourself a really simple question:

Does it hurt enough yet?

Because once it does, I promise—there’s a better spot on that porch.

And if you’re ready to move?
I’m here.

No pressure. No pitch. Just presence.

We’ll get through it. Together.

—Matt