Scarcity Slots & Mental Poverty: Protect Your Focus or Lose Your Peace

Scarcity Slots & Mental Poverty: Protect Your Focus or Lose Your Peace

If I had a crystal ball and could show you what my life might look like when all my scarcity slots are full—when I’ve said yes to too much and left no room to breathe—it might look a little something like this:

I’d be eating breakfast, replying to texts, updating a spreadsheet, booking a dentist appointment, trying to teach Bella a bowling drill, and coaching someone through a mindset session… all while reheating a cup of coffee I forgot to plug the microwave in for.

And somewhere in that mess, I’d pour the coffee into the dog’s bowl because I was also on the phone with someone named “Spam Risk” who I accidentally booked for a one-on-one call.

None of that technically happened—but if I’m being real, it’s not that far off from how life feels when I let my mind get overrun.

That’s the cost of mental poverty.

You stop functioning like a focused, grounded human and start glitching like a broken smart speaker that’s trying to follow six commands at once.

Let’s get something straight: your brain only has so many slots to give each day. Most people walk around thinking they can handle everything. They can’t. And neither can I.

We get three, maybe. Two if we’re focused. One if we’re operating at an elite level. Zero if we’re distracted, depleted, and trying to juggle it all under the illusion of productivity.

Mental performance isn’t about being the smartest person in the room. It’s about being the clearest.

Clarity is what allows intensity. And when you protect your mental space, you stop wasting energy on things that don’t move the mission forward.

I’ll be honest—I still get tested by the little things. Like when I’m mid-project and the Wi-Fi suddenly drops.

I feel it. That chemical explosion in the brain disguised as a harmless emotion. It rushes through the body like a storm: tight jaw, clenched hands, shallow breath.

That’s the moment I have to remind myself: “This too shall pass.” Or better yet: “Be passersby.” Let the emotion move through. Don’t let it move me.

Because no one ever became a champion by screaming at a router.

I’ve done it. I’ve yelled at Wi-Fi. I’ve sighed aggressively at red lights. I’ve tried to parent and problem-solve while mentally spinning out from a frozen Zoom screen.

And that’s when I know I’ve slipped into mental poverty—overreacting to things that don’t deserve my emotional energy.

It’s not about being perfect. It’s about being aware.

You ever open your calendar and feel personally attacked? Like your entire day has turned into a bad game of Tetris—and you’re the weird Z-shaped piece that doesn’t fit anywhere?

If your planner has more color codes than a box of Crayolas, you don’t have a scheduling issue. You’ve got a slot protection issue.

And then there’s this:

The other day, after getting my eyes checked, I stepped outside and saw a grocery cart just sitting there near the sidewalk—not in front of the grocery store, but over by the clinic. I figured I’d be helpful and push it back to where it belonged.

I grabbed the handle, gave it a solid push… and it didn’t move.

Tried again. Still stuck.

Turns out, it wasn’t a broken wheel—it had one of those GPS locks that activates when the cart leaves store property.

And there I was, standing on the sidewalk with my hand on this frozen grocery cart, mumbling to myself like, “Well, that looked smart—me trying to muscle around a cart with a built-in brake system.” I looked around, hoping no one saw me trying to solve a problem that wasn’t mine to fix.

That moment stuck with me.

Sometimes life feels exactly like that. You’re pushing with everything you’ve got, wondering why it’s not working—when really, you’re just outside your zone, trying to move something that was never meant to go with you.

Mental performance is simple. Not easy—but simple.

You don’t need 47 new hacks. You just need one: protect your slots.

Focus on fewer things.

Say yes to what matters.

Let the rest go.

The athletes I’ve coached who grow the most? They aren’t doing more. They’re doing less—better. Because clarity fuels intensity. And when you’re clear, everything gets lighter.

Mental poverty isn’t a lack of intelligence. It’s a lack of intention.

You want to become a champion consistently?

Limit your focus.

Guard your peace.

Choose your one thing.

Then go all in.

“Mental poverty is not a lack of intelligence—it’s a lack of intention.”