Kristjan Kann

Independence · 30 days · $2,000

Almost nobody who wants this one is ready for it.

You stop looking for the next person to explain your life to you. Including me.

This is you if.

Something is not working

  • You have probably tried it all, and the Maze is in the past for you too.
  • You know how your own body and mind behave, not as something you have read about, but as something you can work with when you need to.
  • What is left is the one thing you have never settled: what is still best for you to do, to work at your full height.

Or nothing is wrong at all

  • It holds, and you still check. Not with a doctor and not with your family — with a teacher, a method, a book, a person like me. You want that to stop, and to stop on purpose rather than by drifting away.

This is not you if.

  • You want to stay. There is nothing after this — no advanced level, no alumni group, no annual gathering. I do not run one and I will not.

This is the only one that is genuinely last. Everything else can be entered wherever you are; this one cannot, because there has to be something built before it can be handed over.

Where you are now.

You run your own life well, and you are still looking over your shoulder for confirmation that you are doing it correctly.

You have been doing that for years without calling it that.

What 30 days changes.

You stop looking for the next person to explain your life to you. Including me.

These thirty days are built to make me unnecessary. If they work you will not buy anything from me again, which is the intended result and the reason there is no second year.

Who I refuse for this one.

  • Anyone who has not built anything yet. There is nothing here to hand over.
  • Anyone certain this is the one for them. That certainty is the commonest reason I say no.

What is required of you.

Three hours a week. And thirty days at the end of which you write your own protocol — the one you will run for the rest of your life, without me.

The last week has no instruction at all. Seven days, nothing sent. Some find it the hardest week of the lot. It is not an oversight.

What arrives.

Posted

The Protocol

Printed and sent before day one. Everything to do, in order, with the reasons underneath and the tricks that make it work.

Posted

The Ledger

A bound logbook, one numbered page for each day, written in by hand.

05:00 daily

The Daily

One written instruction each morning. Three lines. They get shorter as you get better.

The last day

The Page

You write your own protocol. It is printed, bound with your name on it, and posted back. I write nothing in it.

You cannot choose this one.

Everything else here can be entered wherever you actually are. This one cannot, because I have no way of knowing what you have already done unless you tell me properly, and almost nobody judges that accurately about themselves.

So there are two applications. Everyone writes the first. If I see the ground for this one in what you have written, I send you the second. You cannot ask for the second one. Receiving it is the answer to the first.

If you have read this and you are certain it is yours, say so and say why. Being certain is the commonest single reason I say no.

What you do not get.

No calls. No voice notes. No group. You will not meet me.

And nothing here is written for you personally. This protocol was finished before I knew your name, which is why it costs a fraction of the year with me. It is a fraction of it: the part that fits on paper.

The difference, side by side →

$2,000, once you are accepted.

Paid in full. If you later want the whole year, this comes off it. You hold one at a time, so a second is not bought — you move up and this comes off. The year alone →

Apply →

If this is not the one

All six, side by side →