Stop Pretending to Be a Hyena

Always hunt in packs. Lone wolves die.

That was the mantra at Accenture. I got it. But I kept asking myself: are those really the only two options? Run with the pack, or die alone?

Then I found my animal. The honey badger. It eats a cobra for lunch, shrugs off the venom, takes a nap, picks a fight with a few lions, and raids a beehive before calling it a day.

A note to my younger self: most of society is built for packs. People climb because an insider group lends a hand, shows them the ropes, and pulls them up. Belonging does more of the lifting than anyone admits.

The honey badger doesn't wait for that. It doesn't ask permission. It doesn't need the org chart to say yes.

Everyone at home expected me to be a professor. I ended up on a derivatives trading floor in Tokyo.

You may not be lonely, but you are definitely alone. And alone, you can still change everything.

So choose. Run with the pack and rise with it. Or go alone and disrupt. Not everyone can be a honey badger. But if you are one, please, please, please, stop pretending to be a hyena.