The Torch That Burned

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The first one stings. 

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Just a little enough to make you flinch. 

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By the second toss, the burn has deepened, and the smile on your face is starting to feel like a mask. The crowd leans in, wide-eyed, waiting for the mistake. You juggle faster. Toss higher. Pretend your hands aren’t screaming.

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The problem with fire is that it never gets lighter. Every catch hurts more than the last.

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The best jugglers know the trick: not every torch has to be real. Half are hollow props. They look like fire. They fool the crowd. But they’re safe, light, and harmless. The secret isn’t superhuman skill. It’s knowing what not to juggle.

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Meanwhile, most of us are out here catching the real flames.

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Emails at midnight. Versions nobody can trace. The client request is buried in 14 tabs. You don’t get to choose which torch to drop because they’re all on fire. And you’re terrified of the burn.

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But here’s the part you can’t ignore: when everything is flaming, you scorch more than your palms. You scorch your evenings, your focus, your ability to think straight. The fire takes over until you forget what your own hands used to feel like.

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So here’s the shift: excellence isn’t about juggling harder. It’s about deciding which flames don’t belong in the act at all.

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Audit Tip #12: Ban the “mystery tab.”

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If a sheet can’t be explained in 30 seconds, it doesn’t belong in the file. Every unnecessary tab is another torch in the air, another chance to burn. Drop it early. Clean the file. The work stays sharp, the review lighter, and your hands? They finally get a break.

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Because brilliance doesn’t come from catching everything. It comes from refusing to juggle torches that were never worth the scars.

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Until next time,

Christiaan

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P.S. Book a 15-min demo here. Let us show you how to swap fire for props.

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