For over a decade, I (Ian) have lived in the weeds of film production – writing, producing, directing, editing, and stressing (a LOT) about every final product I was entrusted with. I’ve also fought the good fight against using em-dashes (If you follow Linked-in AI conversations, you get me. But thats neither here nor there) Back to being in the weeds. I mean, I’m an artist. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? If I’m not working harder, longer, and with more care, I’m not doing my job as a film director. Right?
But then burnout hit. And hit hard. I realized something had to change. I saw two paths forward:
Learn from entrepreneurs, artists, and business coaches how to build a company of excellence in a sustainable way, OR
Quit, leave the film industry, and find a “real job.”
(Spoiler alert) I chose option #1. That decision, made about five years ago, led me to discover that not only is sustainable growth possible while producing excellent work, but (shockingly) the systems and principles that make it sustainable actually lead to better work than the “burnout method”.
The last four years of business coaching and masterminds have yielded great insights, “oh duh, why aren’t we doing that?” reminders, and general encouragement that building anything of significance takes an equation that looks roughly like =((“insane amount of work” + “delegation” + “consistency”)* time)).
But this isn’t a post about burnout. And I can already hear my college lit professor telling me for the hundredth time “Get to the point.” So here’s the point: In all this learning, one principle rose to the surface and transformed everything about how I approach filmmaking and storytelling: “YOU ARE NOT THE HERO.”
In early 2023, a friend recommended the book Building a StoryBrand by Donald Miller. It promised to “clarify your message so your customers will listen.” Sounded good!
Cue montage:
Ian opens Audible, clicks “use 1 credit,” binges the book at 2x speed, and can’t get enough. Donald Miller explains: “Audiences are the hero of their own lives. To connect with them, you have to be THE GUIDE, not the hero.” Mind blown. Ian immediately orders a hard copy. Smash cut to the next day: Amazon box ripped open, Ian highlighting every sentence (the book now glows yellow). Fast forward two months: an email invites Ian to join Don Miller’s inaugural Mastermind. Ian doesn’t know exactly why, but it must have something to do with the multi-step form he filled out at 1am that one night to get access to the “storybrand tools.” Ian runs downstairs and screams to his wife “DONALD MILLER’S TEAM INVITED ME TO A MASTERMIND.” Ian’s wife says, “who’s team?”
Smash cut to: Ian says yes to the mastermind, hops on a plane, and finds himself in a room full of intimidating (but shockingly friendly) entrepreneurs.
Okay, you get it. Through all of this, the idea “You are NOT the Hero. You are the GUIDE” kept coming up. And the more I heard it, the more it resonated. I think the most important truths are funny like that—the more you hear them, the less obvious they feel.
So, we implemented it. At Distant Moon, we started approaching every conversation, every script, every production, and every edit with this core premise: We are guides helping our clients create beautiful films and storytelling. Our clients, in turn, are guides for their audiences, helping them achieve their own goals.
And a crazy thing happens when you put others first: They flourish. They succeed. And, paradoxically, their success brings you more success than if you had tried to be the hero.
For us, this shift didn’t just change how we tell stories – it changed the results. Projects became smoother, collaboration easier, and the stories we created became more resonant. We’ve seen nonprofit leaders light up when their mission comes alive on screen. Corporate clients rally their teams around a new vision. Audiences (real people) moved to action because they saw themselves as the heroes of their own stories.
And isn’t that what storytelling is about? It’s not about the director or the producer. It’s about the audience. It’s about meeting them where they are, showing them what’s possible, and inspiring them to take the next step in their journey.
So here’s my challenge to you: Step back. Look at the people you’re serving. Ask yourself, “Am I making this about me, or am I guiding them to where they need to go to maximize THEIR HEROIC JOURNEY?” When you embrace the role of guide, the impact you create can be far greater than anything you could achieve on your own.
At Distant Moon, this has become our heartbeat. The best stories aren’t about the storyteller—they’re about the lives transformed by the story itself. That’s what we mean when we talk about Human Flourishing. Welcome to the Human Flourishing Newsletter.
Toward Flourishing,
Ian Reid
Film Director / Founder of Distant Moon
Author: Ian Reid
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The Most Important Principle We’ve Learned
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Lessons I Learned from 2 Seconds of Fame.
Last week on LinkedIn, I got two seconds of fame: I posted a BTS (behind-the-scenes) video of my friend and collaborator Mike Curry talking about why we shoot on high-quality cinema equipment instead of iPhones.
“I mean, Apple commercials are shot on iPhone, right?”
Well… kiiinda. Not really. It’s mostly a marketing half-truth. eh…just go watch our video, that’s the myth we unpack.
But that’s not the point. The point is that the video struck a chord. In just two days, it racked up nearly 50k organic impressions and around 20k views, without spending a dime.
Granted. These are not huge numbers compared to the millions of views garnered by many of the campaigns we work on with our incredible partners (including many of you reading this). But there is a key difference: Those videos often have 5-6 figure investments, paid promotions, and months of work and strategy poured into them.
In contrast, this was a video that took 15 minutes to film, 20 minutes to finesse the AI-generated captions, and 5 minutes to upload to LinkedIn. And in LinkedIn terms, I’m told that’s semi-viral. (Look, Mom, I’ve made it!).
The point is, people cared. About 80% of the comments, reactions, and shares strongly agreed with the premise: Your tools should be chosen based on what you want to accomplish as a brand. Whether it’s film equipment, a web platform, or an email marketing service, the right tool depends on the goal.
The other 20%? Outraged. (I was told to use a $5 word in this newsletter, so: aghast.) How dare we suggest you can’t create cinematic, beautiful content on an iPhone? “Steven Soderbergh shoots feature films on iPhones!” “My cousin Joe thinks iPhones are the future of filmmaking!” etc., etc.
Well, with all due respect to Soderbergh and Cousin Joe (and putting aside my opinions on whether anything shot on an iPhone can actually look good without doctoring the process so much that it’s not really an iPhone shoot anymore), this debate isn’t actually the point of this email.
The real point is why the video struck a chord. Why? People were invested because they themselves had wrestled with the question before they watched our video.
After all, in the age of endless content, almost everyone has asked, “How do I create something that stands out?”
Even more practically: “What tools do I need to stand out?”
And our little behind-the-scenes video met audiences in their worries and in their questioning. In a broad sense, that’s what successful storytelling, film, video, and content creation shoulddo. It should ask the fundamental questions your audience is already asking, wrestling with, and worrying about.
The biggest irony? The video about why Distant Moon uses high-end cinema gear was shot on an iPhone.
Which only proves my point: there’s a time and place for high-end cinema equipment if you’re building a brand reputation, making a bold statement about quality, timelessness, and excellence. That’s why we’ve invested a half-million dollars into the highest end equipment and pour months of our teams lives into projects like our documentary online course on Communism with our partners at Hillsdale College or years into projects like The Moment with our friends at Prolific (more on that in coming emails).
But there’s also a time and place for quick, raw, “shot on iPhone” BTS videos that tackle real, human questions in a candid way.
Anyone who tells you there’s no place for iPhone videos is lying. Anyone who tells you there’s no need for high-end cinema equipment is also lying.
Our job is to determine the answers to two questions:
1. What does the audience need in this moment?
2. How do we serve them, challenge them, inspire them, and move them?
After 20 years of making films and video content, I’m more convinced than ever that the best strategy is a well-developed plan. A strategic mix of what I call industry-defining films (the ones that blow audiences’ minds with storytelling and production value) and UGC/found footage content (the stuff that feels less produced and more accessible right now).
SO HERE’S THE TLDR:
1. Know and define your audience.
2. Ask yourself (or them) what they deeply feel that they need (rather than what you need from them), and. . .
3. Craft a content strategy that includes the two extremes of video: Highly produced, brand prestige content (these are vital for establishing your brand’s authority, institutional excellence, and capabilities) AND Simply produced, inexpensive and high-regularity content that meets the viewer where they’re at emotionally and intellectually in a down-to-earth way.
The brands, nonprofits and thought leaders who do this, will always lead their industries, because they will be the ones creating true value for their audience and humanity in general.
And that’s why we got into this in the first place, right?
Here’s to human flourishing,
-Ian -
The Secret Blessing of Cancelled Projects
This week was supposed to be the start of production on the sequel to our choose-your-own-adventure film, The Moment: Part 1 (warning: mature content). It was going to be a 15-day shoot with hundreds of cast and crew. It’s tough to describe the pressure, adrenaline, and heightened state that being on a film set induces. There was a palpable energy leading up to the production. And… then, it got delayed. Pushed to late 2025 or beyond due to factors outside of our control.
It’s tough to describe your emotions when a project you’ve been tending for months in development and pre-production suddenly grinds to a halt. Sadness? Frustration? Relief? (haha. joking. but am I?)
Filmmaking, like impact-building, is never a straight path. It is more like a winding road with surprise detours and the occasional landslide. And as I’m often reminded by life, usually, what looks like a setback is actually an open door.Because of that delay, I was able to attend the National Religious Broadcasters convention, where our project American Principles Series won Outstanding Achievement (the top award of its category) 🏆. More importantly, I had conversations with a couple of my heroes in independent film, the kind of people who have built sustainable, culture-shaping storytelling outside of Hollywood. I can’t share the details of those conversations yet, but I honestly believe they will lead to impactful storytelling and filmmaking for audiences around the world over the coming years.
The filmmakers, executives, and teams pioneering independent and faith-based cinema are firing on all cylinders. They are not just making art based on instinct and guesses. They are applying data and a rigorous examination of how audiences react to different stories to answer the question with which most of Hollywood struggles: What moves viewers?
This is the core question I pose in almost every strategy conversation, but in different words. What does the audience need? What serves them? What makes their lives tangibly better?
Independent cinema has never been savvier or more focused. We are about to see a huge power shift in film and media. Which is all just to say:
The way brands reach audiences is changing…
Last night I was watching the Academy Awards (at least until Hulu’s epic streaming glitch). And the winning films at the ceremony reinforced something we have known for a long time: Independent films, creators, and filmmakers are having a moment.
Take Flow for instance: A wordless, animated film made using Blender, a free open-source software, just won the Oscar for Best Animated Feature. It beat out Inside Out 2 and The Wild Robot. (Also, my kids were RIVETED when we watched it this weekend. More than I’ve seen them for most films.) It was produced for $3.7 million (a budget that wouldn’t even cover Pixar’s coffee expenses. Hey. I’m not the finance guy. don’t quote me.). I think it accomplished this because it delivered something big studios often miss: originality, emotional depth, and artistic risk-taking.
Or Sound of Freedom, which shocked Hollywood last year by grossing $184 million domestically. It earned more at the domestic box office than Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny and Mission: Impossible Dead Reckoning Part One. At least among Americans, an independently released, mission-driven film outperformed some of the biggest franchises in the world. Guess existing IP isn’t all its cracked up to be, huh? (maybe audiences want original stories?)
Then there is The Brutalist, nominated for 10 Academy Awards this year. And it was produced completely outside of the Hollywood system by a young filmmaker with a dream that took 7 years to pull off (largely on his own until he finally snagged a killer cast to join him in his vision). Its success proves what we are seeing across the industry. The old model is no longer the only way.
One of the biggest takeaways for 2025 is impact outside of Hollywood. Independent filmmakers, international studios, and mission-driven creators are shaping film and media in ways that were once impossible. And they no longer need Hollywood’s permission to create massive cultural impact.
I think everyone can learn lessons from this shifting power dynamic in film and storytelling.
For marketing directors, brand leaders, and nonprofit storytellers, the opportunity to use film for real impact has never been greater. Here are a few takeaways that come to mind:
1. Authenticity Wins – Audiences are tuning out Hollywood’s formulaic storytelling in favor of real, human stories. Mission-driven brands should lean into stories that are honest, often raw feeling, and deeply meaningful.
2. Niche Audiences Are Powerhouses – Films like Sound of Freedom and Flow prove that passionate audiences can turn a film into a movement. If your brand or nonprofit has a dedicated following, they are your most valuable asset.
3. Interactivity and Engagement Matter – Our choose-your-own-adventure film showed us something profound. People want to engage, not just watch. Whether through interactive films, docuseries, or digital campaigns, inviting your audience to participate deepens the impact.
4. You Do Not Need a Hollywood Budget – Flow had a tiny budget ($3.7 million) compared to Pixar films, yet it won animation’s highest honor. With the right story, the right audience, and the right distribution, even a low-budget film can shift cultural conversations.
So back to the winding path…
Doors open and doors close (hows that for mixing metaphors?), but I’m more excited than ever about what the future holds, because storytelling is a lifelong pursuit, and those who achieve cultural impact are the people who stay on the path, constantly moving forward.
If your nonprofit or brand has a story that needs to be told, now is the time. There are no shortcuts to impact, but with the right strategy, your message can reach the audiences that need it most. And you’re not alone in that pursuit of impact, we’re here right alongside you.
Here’s to Human Flourishing!
-IanOh, also, have I mentioned “The Moment?”
Last year we and several clients/partners launched “The Moment” to entertain and inform gen-z and alphas about the importance of their decisions. We’ll be sharing BTS and more information about using Entertainment and Narrative filmmaking to reach tough audiences in coming newsletters, but in the meanwhile, check out “The Moment: Part 1.”
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Aching Legs and Wise Investments?
As I sit here writing, my legs ache, and I stare at this blank page with more trepidation than usual.
We’ll get back to the aching legs in a second. But the trepidation? That, I’ll explain now. I feel a bit like a hypocrite because today’s topic is investment. Not investment of money, but the investment of time, relationships, and energy. And the subject gives me pause because I’m no expert – merely an inexperienced practitioner learning the ropes as I try to grow, build, and invest wisely.
But, from one earnest investor to another: How are your “life” investments going? I’m sometimes succeeding, often failing, and always learning. Here’s what I’ve learned.
1. Investing is a long game.
I’ve spent eight years building a film production company and nearly 20 years in film. Only now am I seeing the traction I dreamt of at 11 when I first decided I wanted to “make movies.” Last year, I completed my first feature film (at 34). This year, that film has led to multiple new projects. Our team at Distant Moon has grown to a team of between 17 and 25 depending on how you count full-time vs freelance team members. And at 35, I feel like we’re just getting started, but every door opening now is the result of long nights, stressful days, and decades of behind-the-scenes work. Unless you’re one of the rare “overnight successes” (which I doubt exist), investments take decades to pay off.
2. Investing is often deceptively frustrating.
Whether it’s money, raising kids, or building something meaningful, my wife, Yetta, and I have learned that painful moments, valleys of despair, and “Will this even work?” doubts are far more common than mountaintop experiences. But, wow – when those mountaintop moments come, they’re incredible.
3. Most people discuss the success of their investments, not the costs.
Investing costs – money, time, energy. This is obvious financially (you have to sacrifice capital to buy stocks or property), but it’s even more true with people and businesses. Last week, Distant Moon had a mountaintop moment at the American Advertising Federation Awards in DC. The Moment swept its categories – two golds, a silver, and two best-of-classes. From the outside, it looked like pure celebration. What the crowd didn’t see? Weeks of intense deadlines, late nights, weekend work, strained relationships, and even medical emergencies from the stress. Every investment has a cost. The key question: Does the return outweigh it?For Distant Moon, we ask: Does this create cultural impact? Deepen understanding of humanity? Help people flourish?
4. Investing reshapes your priorities.
Now, about the aching legs. Last May, I hit a breaking point. I was gaining weight, unhappy with how I looked and felt, and making poor health choices. But work was demanding – I couldn’t fit in consistent exercise. Then, after hearing my family repeatedly say, “We’re worried you won’t make it to 45,” I had a wake-up call. Around the same time, I kept seeing ads for a local CrossFit gym. “What even is CrossFit?” I thought. “Well, my buff friend Andrew does it, so…” Cue the voice in my head: “You’ll never stick with it. You’re too busy.”
I shut that voice up. Instead of “making time,” I put CrossFit where nothing else existed – 5 a.m. Let me tell you, waking up at 4:30 (four days a week) is brutal. But you know what? No one else is working, emailing, or vying for my time at 5 a.m. And as I invested that hour, my schedule and priorities naturally rearranged. (Also, some workouts destroy your legs – Friday’s was a mile run, 50 burpees, 75 squats, and 50 box step-ups. Way harder than it sounds.)
My point? Investing is exhausting. But the return is a longer, healthier, fuller life. And people stop telling you you’ll die at 45.
🪦
So where does this meandering train of thought leave us?
I feel trepidation writing this because I worry it’ll sound like either:
– A “humblebrag” about my life.
– An Eeyore-like complaint that life is soooo hard.
I hope it’s neither. My goal is to show both realities: Life is hard and joy-filled at the same time. There are valleys and mountaintops. Investing in meaningful things takes time, sacrifice, and struggle – but it’s worth it.
In many ways, I still feel like I’m just beginning. But for the first time, I’m seeing real fruit from the investments Distant Moon, Yetta, and I have been making for decades. And I hope you’re seeing the same – watching your investments in work, relationships, and time flourish in ways you never imagined.
Here’s to human flourishing.
– IanP.S. here are some pictures of the awards gala in DC last week. Only some of the team was able to make it out, but it was a blast!
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Dream Bigger. Face Reality. Create Impact.
This week, I read two incredible books by Steve Sims: Bluefishing and Go for Stupid. I also revisited Jon Tyson’s The Intentional Father for a study I’m doing with some close friends. Each of these books challenged me in different ways, and together, they created a week full of inspiration about dreaming boldly, embracing challenges, and living with intention. I was so pumped up by these books that I decided to share the top takeaways that inspired me by this week’s readings. I hope you find these insights (and the books they come from) as helpful as I have.
Book 1: Bluefishing
Key Idea: Why Not You?
Steve Sims built the world’s most exclusive concierge service by helping clients experience once-in-a-lifetime moments. But it all started with one simple belief:
“Why not us?”
Growing up in a family of bricklayers, Steve was constantly told, “That’s not for us. We don’t shop at those stores or eat at those restaurants.” But Steve refused to accept that. Fast forward to his career. A client asked him to get an album signed by the band Journey. Instead, Steve asked, “Why not go bigger?” He got that client on stage to sing a full set with the band.
Later, a client wanted a private dinner in Florence. Steve didn’t just book a fancy restaurant. He closed the Accademia Gallery, served a gourmet meal at the foot of Michelangelo’s David, and had Andrea Bocelli give a private concert, all with 48 hours’ notice.
When he asked the museum curator how this was possible, the answer was simple:
“You’re the first person who ever asked.”
Book 2: Go for Stupid
Key Idea: Stop Playing Small
Steve’s second book, Go for Stupid, flips goal-setting on its head. The big idea?
People aim too low.
Most of us set reasonable, attainable goals and then fall short. But if you set ridiculously ambitious, even “stupid” goals and fall short, you’ll still land far beyond where most people ever dream. This is something we’ve talked about for years at Distant Moon:
“Shoot for the moon, and even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.” (I know, cliche. But even the most cringey cliches can inspire.)
That’s why we’re not just building another media company. We’re working to create the most impactful media company of the 21st century by helping audiences wrestle with life’s deepest questions, learn more about the world, and understand their own humanity.
Book 3: The Intentional Father
Key Idea: Preparing the next Generation for Reality
In The Intentional Father, Jon Tyson reminds us that preparing the next generation for life means teaching them hard truths:
- Life is hard.
- You are not that important.
- Your life is not about you.
- You are not in control.
- You are going to die.
I found these truths incredibly freeing and encouraging. These realities build resilience, humility, and purpose. Furthermore, I think our society’s constant struggle with depression, discord, and loneliness can largely be linked to a collective failure to really believe that these truths apply to everyone. For instance, how many people secretly think they have it harder or that life is more difficult for us than some other more privileged party. One of the most freeing realizations in my life has been the realization that everyone experiences and must come to grips with the five principles above. And knowing you’re not alone in the struggle changes everything.
Why This All Matters
When you put these lessons together, they paint a powerful picture:
- Ask “Why Not?” Ask the questions others aren’t willing to ask. Ask for things others would be embarrassed to ask for.
- Dream bigger. Why self-limit our dreams? This is what most people do. Let’s not join them.
- Prepare for hardship. Build resilience for the journey. Live with purpose. Because life is too short to aim low.
But the deeper truth is this: Life is not about us. It’s about using our gifts, resources, and dreams to serve others and create a better world. When we dream bigger, we’re not just chasing success for ourselves. We’re creating space for curating incredible experiences for others, building impactful brands that change the world, and making a lasting difference for future generations. The most meaningful work happens when we stop asking, “What can I get?” and start asking, “How can I give?”
In the end, the greatest legacy isn’t what we accumulate, it’s what we give to our families, our communities, our world, and our Creator.
Here’s to Human Flourishing.
– Ian
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Overwhelmed by Opportunity? Part 1
A few weeks ago, I wrote about the unexpected gift of closed doors – how sometimes when an opportunity disappears, life (providence) might actually be pointing you to something better for that time of your life. I still believe that. But I there’s another component of finding new opportunities that I want to talk about this week: projecting your vision and dreams out into the world.
Look, I don’t subscribe to “manifest it and it’ll happen.” The universe isn’t some magical wish-granting genie waiting to realign to the vibrations you’re putting out there (Sorry Napoleon Hill). But, I am convinced that what you believe, think about and talk about help to realign reality.
Hold up. Didn’t you just straight-up contradict yourself?
Here’s what I mean: Your brain is a pattern-seeking machine. In fact the human brain is one of the best pattern finders in existence. (Actually crazy interesting: check out this article. Or this one.) Turns out we’re actually still better than AI at pattern recognition. Go team Human!If consistently fed with vision and clarity, that squishy miraculous brain of yours will find connections, patterns, and pathways that lead to actions that open doors or recognize the paths to open doors. Even better: other people’s brains do that too. The more you talk about your dreams and goals, the more vision-aligned people show up. (I believe a decent dose of Divine orchestration is also involved, but that’s a good conversation for over coffee.)
In essence, in the same way that we train AI on datasets that help it recognize patterns, the more you train your brain on datasets that feature objectives, dreams, values, and education from a wide array of disciplines, the more effective your brain is at pattern finding when presented with real-life opportunities and challenges.
This “training your brain” is why we at Distant Moon practice three things every week:
1. Positive Focus – What’s going well? Dwell on that and reorient your emotional perspective.
2. Dream/Vision Repetition – Where are we going? Why does that excite us and get us up in the morning? Even more importantly, how does that change the world?
3. Values Discussion – What are the values we live by? Why are they important and how do they remind us of the ultimate purpose of what we do – serving others through our efforts.So, that’s part of the equation, but what happens when the doors open too fast? What happens when the dream starts to bury you? When all the blessings you once begged for come crashing in at the same time?
“Well that’s a weird question!”
Is there such a thing as too much opportunity? Here’s why I ask:- In the last month, I’ve our team has been on the road across five states.
- In just three weeks, we’ve had four shoots across four cities.
- Our team just wrapped a full motion graphics/animation pass on a feature film for our amazing friends at Freethink (more info coming soon!).
- We launched a new online course with Hillsdale, are worked on an upcoming series with University of Dallas, and juggled 15–20 projects in various stages of production.
- We also welcomed three new hires (two editors and a sales manager) in the same stretch.
We’re not a 100-person shop. We’re 20. And this is a lot. I personally started to feel pretty wiped. So I did a gut check: I asked the team how they’re feeling, expecting a wave of stress.
And I braced myself.
But our senior editor, Nathan, spoke up said, “Everything is pretty chill.” (For those not in the know, that’s Millennial for “The work isn’t too overwhelming and things are manageable.”)
Hold up. What?
Who Not How and Unique Ability.
Here’s why I think the team isn’t losing their minds: we’ve embraced a simple idea from Dan Sullivan’s book, Who Not How. It’s this:
Stop asking, “How do I do this?”
Start asking, “Who can help me do this?”Before this mindset shift, various members of our team were trying to do everything. I myself thought excellence meant being the person who carried the entire project. Write it. Shoot it. Cut it. Lose sleep over it. That’s what good artists do, right?
But good artists also burn out. And Distant Moon is in it for the long-haul (have I mentioned that we’re working to build the most impactful film studio of the 21st century? Manifes…er. Dataset building. ✅)
So we changed.
We don’t do it perfectly, but our team is built to operate around unique abilities. Unique ability is “your own set of natural talents and the passion that fuels you to contribute in the ways that most motivate you.” We organize not around who’s available or who’s done it before, but around what people excel at and what gives them energy rather than zapping them of energy.
Where are they most skilled? Most energized? Most needed?And guess what? When people do what they excel at, everything improves. Output. Energy. Morale. Fulfillment. We step out of survival mode and into sustainability – without lowering the bar on excellence. In fact the quality increases.
This is the 80/20 principle in action. When you’re operating in your zone, you can create 80% of the value with only 20% of the drag.
But that’s the Distant Moon team. Guess who still struggles with balance! (If you guessed me. You got it. It’s definitely me.)
But this newsletter is already getting CRAZY long. And we’re not writing a book here (although, HarperCollins, hit me up if you’re interested).So consider this the cliffhanger for Part 2: “When Opportunity breaks you (almost),” in which I discuss why the myths of the “grass is always greener” and the pervasive “comfort crisis” all around us.
Until then, here’s to human flourishing!
-Ian
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Overwhelmed by Opportunity? Part 2
In case you missed it, Last week’s newsletter explored how training your brain to recognize patterns through vision, focus, and values can open unexpected doors – and how surrounding yourself with the right people makes all the difference when opportunities multiply. We also shared how Distant Moon’s shift to “Who Not How” thinking (and leaning into each person’s unique ability) has helped us thrive amid a flood of new projects and growth. Ok. Here’s part 2!
Discomfort ≠ Failure
It Means You’re Growing
Right around the time I was adjusting to this new reality (read: holding on for dear life), I picked up a book that wrecked me in the best way – The Comfort Crisis by Michael Easter.
The book explores how modern life has systematically engineered out discomfort. And as a result, we’re soft – not just physically (although the last year of crossfit has shown me that too, haha!), but mentally and spiritually. We’re addicted to ease. But ease is not where growth lives.
One of the core ideas in the book is the concept of Misogi – a once-a-year, voluntary, extreme challenge designed to push you so far outside your comfort zone that you’re forced to meet a new version of yourself. You’re supposed to only be 50% sure you can even complete it.
That idea was honestly crazy exciting to me.
Because it explained something I’ve wrestled with in building a company – “what if I can’t do this?” or “what if this project kills me?” or “Can our team handle this?” In many ways, building a world-class creative team feels like a life-long Misogi! (And I’m guessing many of you feel similarly about your teams, businesses, and organizations.)
New opportunities. New responsibilities. New plateaus. All of it stretches you. All of it is slightly terrifying. And all of it – if we lean in – refines us into something stronger.
What feels like overwhelm might actually be a signpost of progress.
Easter’s big point? Growth is always on the far edge of discomfort. If you feel out of your depth, GOOD. That’s where transformation happens. Not when things are easy, but when they’re just barely possible.
Please note, I’m NOT saying just struggling is a badge of honor. I also don’t believe that, but don’t buy the cultural narrative that all struggle is bad. Sometimes it’s just a sign you’re trying to do important things. Whether you’re on the right or wrong side of that balance, only you can REALLY know by searching your heart.
So, If You’re Drowning in Goodness…
If your dream is starting to feel like a weight, don’t panic.
Instead:
- Shift your question. Stop asking “How do I do more?” and start asking “Who can I invite in?”
- Reframe the discomfort. That stress you feel? It might not be a red flag. It might be proof you’re expanding.
- Practice gratitude. Even in the chaos. Especially in the chaos.
- Communicate clearly. In work, in marriage, in family. Don’t let the fog of exhaustion cloud the connection that matters most.
- Celebrate the Misogi. You’re not failing. You’re leveling up.
I’m still in it. Still often exhausted. But I wouldn’t trade this life for anything.
Grateful for the ride. Thankful to share it with you all!
Here’s to Human Flourishing.-Ian
The Moment won Best Multimedia Storytelling in the Webby Awards! The Webbys are a big deal and winning audience choice would be a huge boon for The Moment!
(Viewer Discretion Advised. Involves Language and Sexual Situations.)
Thank you all so much for your support of this project! We can’t wait to share more updates!
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On Nerves and Red Carpets
Today, I’m heading to New York City for a quick 24-hour trip – and honestly, I’ve been feeling the nerves.
It’s not often I get this kind of anxious energy about work. But there’s still one scenario that brings out the imposter syndrome in full force:
Awards shows.
Tonight, Yetta and I will be attending the 2025 Webby Awards Ceremony in lower Manhattan, red carpet and all.
It’s a surreal experience. I’ve spent decades crafting stories and creating work. But I haven’t spent decades receiving public recognition, walking fancy carpets, or standing shoulder to shoulder with celebrities.
Just look at who’s being honored tonight: Rihanna, Taylor Swift, Kendrick Lamar, Taika Waititi, Simone Biles, the Kelce brothers – and more.
And then there’s me. Ian, who?
A small voice in my head says: You don’t belong here.Ok. Fine. It’s actually a big voice. And it’s really loud.
All afternoon yesterday, I was worrying about what I would say to people. “How do you make small talk again?” “What will I do?” “I probably shouldn’t even go, right? Like awards are just a total waste of time anyway!?”
But as the nervous energy was growing to an unbearable level and as my own brain was saying “hey, dude. Normal people don’t belong at an event like this,” a different thought hit me: What if it’s precisely the normal people who are called to do meaningful work that serves other normal people?
That, after all, is what Distant Moon was built for – helping others wrestle with life’s essential questions, see the world more clearly, and connect with what it means to be human. That’s what I’ve been called to do.
And the interesting thing is, as soon as I had that thought, the nerves began to subside. Suddenly the objective in my attendance was disconnected from my own well-being. Instead of asking “what if people think I don’t belong?” I was able to start wondering “what can I do to help others feel like they belong?”
In case it’s not obvious, I’m not talking about “belonging at the Webbys.” I’m talking about belonging in a deeper sense.
C.S. Lewis was one of the most profound influences in my early scholastic life. In high school I enrolled in a great books course that was predominantly focused on the nonfiction writings of Lewis. In one of his books, “The Weight of Glory,” he says something that has always stuck with me:“It may be possible for each to think too much of his own potential glory hereafter; it is hardly possible for him to think too often or too deeply about that of his neighbour. The load, or weight, or burden of my neighbour’s glory should be laid daily on my back, a load so heavy that only humility can carry it, and the backs of the proud will be broken.
It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare.
All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics.
There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendours.”
What if the goal isn’t to promote ourselves, but to encourage the eternal beings all around us to find truth, goodness, and flourishing in their everyday lives? Perhaps that ought to be the goal even in the fleeting moments of small talk at a banquet, on the red carpet, or in a crowded after party?
What if we approached every encounter with genuine curiosity, asking others about their dreams, their work, their purpose?
That’s the posture Yetta and I are going to try to take with us. We’re not going to sell ourselves. We’re going to try to see others – to really see them.
So….tonight, I’m choosing to see the Webby Awards not as a stage to impress, but as a space to serve.
And, just maybe, we’ll encourage someone else who also wonders why they’re at the Webby Awards… and remind them that they belong as well.
Here’s to Human Flourishing.
-Ian
In Other News…
My oldest son, Cal and I went down to Nashville a week ago to visit our friends at Kingdom Story Company. We spent a wonderful day with the team there as they’re finalizing their new studio and on set shooting I Can Only Imagine 2. Here are some fun pictures from the time I got to spend with Cal both on set and around the town.
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Breakthrough! How Brands Can Reach Audiences in the Age of Distraction.
Ok, gang. this is a long one, but I think it’s valuable. I also think that if you start practicing what I unpack below, it could start serving your organization, projects, and storytelling immediately. I hope it’s as valuable to you as it has proven to be for me and the team over the past few months. So with out further ado, here we go!
Introduction: The Problem No One Wants to Admit
In mid-May 2025, I had the honor of attending the Webby Awards in New York. (I promise this is the last time I’ll mention this in our newsletter, ok!?) Our team at Distant Moon, alongside our technical and agency partners, had just won Best Multimedia Storytelling. It was a moment of celebration, of creative validation, and of anticipation – because I was about to meet the minds who had supposedly shaped the internet over the past year.
But what I encountered instead was a culture standing at the crossroads.
One by one, the honorees paraded on stage. Not for their world-changing vision or stories that stirred the soul. But for content that was – at best – amusing. TikTokers. YouTubers. Instagrammers. A guy who went viral posting squirrel videos. A woman whose performance art could be summarized as “very demure, very mindful.” There was no shortage of attention, but I couldn’t help wondering: To what end? Where were the stories that shaped people’s lives for the better?
Ironically, at my own table sat people whose work did that – projects that gave voice to peacemakers from every nation, or helped viewers understand the experiences of others from radically different backgrounds. But they weren’t the creators on stage. The spotlight went to the spectacle, not the substance.
Why?
Because Neil Postman and Marshall McLuhan were right. “Who are Neil Postman and Marshall McLuhan?” I’m glad you asked, more on them in a moment, but in short, they’re famous for the well-known aphorism: “The medium is the message.”
Today’s dominant media – TikTok, Instagram, YouTube – were built for attention, not transformation. These platforms reward brevity, not depth; spectacle, not soul. And when you try to tell meaningful stories in a medium designed for distractions, the medium wins. This is not to say that NO longform and insightful content can capture attention on these mediums. In fact, as you’ll see, we’re convinced that with strategic and mindful (but not demure) processes applied to the traditional film and content creation process, you can co-opt inherently distraction-prone media platforms for soul-enriching and message-delivering content.
But this requires a rigorous and often ignored approach. One that helps brands with something truly worth saying break through all the noise.Section 1: The Hidden Architecture of Modern Media
In his prophetic book Amusing Ourselves to Death, Neil Postman warned us that the greatest threat to truth wasn’t censorship, but entertainment. He built on Canadian philosopher, Marshall McLuhan’s insight that the form of communication – the medium – shapes the content it conveys.
McLuhan put it bluntly: The medium is the message.
Postman took it further: in a television-dominated world at the time of his writing, even serious subjects become entertainment. In our era, the dynamic is supercharged. TikTok doesn’t just favor the trivial. It penalizes the profound.
The result? Content that actually matters struggles to survive. It gets buried under waves of viral fluff.
And this is where many brands (especially purpose-driven ones) get stuck. They have stories that matter. But they try to tell those stories through platforms that trivialize everything.
Section 2: Why Traditional Film Still Doesn’t Cut It
Some might say, “Just make a long-form film. Invest in quality. Tell the story cinematically.” And sure, that’s better than a TikTok video. But traditional film storytelling, when applied to messaging and brand-building still carries a fatal flaw:
It’s broadcast. Not a conversation.
Even beautiful films can fall flat if they’re built on assumptions about what an audience wants or needs. Films that are made for an audience, but never with them.
This one-directional approach often leads to heartbreaking outcomes: high-effort films that miss the mark, don’t connect, and fade into oblivion.
The brand-building and media landscape is littered with more examples of failure than success. Just look at the graveyard of branded videos on YouTube and Instagram that never reach beyond a few dozen views. For every viral campaign that breaks through, there are thousands of high-effort, high-cost pieces of content that vanish into the void. But this dynamic isn’t unique to marketing; it’s foundational to the entire storytelling industry. Hollywood, the very machine built to manufacture dreams, is structured around failure. In fact, it’s not an exaggeration to say the business model of Hollywood relies on the rare success subsidizing a sea of flops. According to industry analyses, only about 20% of Hollywood films manage to achieve profitability, leaving approximately 80% failing to break even at the domestic box office.This means that most films lose money. And I’m not talking about obscure indie projects. I’m saying some of the most anticipated, studio-backed films with A-list talent and nine-figure budgets regularly underperform or outright bomb. The 2023 box office saw colossal losses on titles like The Marvels, which had the lowest opening of any Marvel Cinematic Universe movie and lost an estimated $237 million, and Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, which, despite massive marketing spend and global recognition, is estimated to have lost over $100 million.
So if even Hollywood, with all its data, budgets, and storytelling talent, struggles to connect with audiences, what hope does a mission-driven brand have of breaking through without a radically different approach?
Section 3: A New Way Forward – Audience-Powered Film
When considering these hurdles, I began talking with a good friend of mine who is a well-respected audience-analysis expert who has spent over 25 years in experience marketing. We started discussing what filmmakers can do to overcome the significant risks that clients face in funding new film projects. The result? Something we call Audience-Powered Film.
It’s a storytelling model rooted in Human-Centered Design (HCD). At its core, HCD flips the creative process on its head: instead of assuming we know the answer, we design with the user, not just for them.
We’ve adapted this approach for film on several projects over the last year, and the initial results have been extraordinary.
Here’s how it works (warning, the steps seem shockingly obvious, and yet few people practice them):
1. GATHER (Insights)
- Interviews with stakeholders and subject matter experts
- In-depth interviews with real audience members
- Audience, story, content, and format hypotheses
2. IMAGINE (Co-creation)
- A 2-day concept summit with creatives and clients
- Co-creating multiple film concepts
- Testing the best ideas with audience members
- Final script and story plan crafted with real feedback
3. DEVELOP (Film & Experience)
- Shoot and edit a rough cut
- Screen that cut with audience members
- Revise based on real-world reactions
- Deliver a final film shaped not just by creative vision, but end audience
Section 4: Why This Works When Nothing Else Does
We don’t just connect with audiences. We build with them.
That’s the difference.
- When an audience sees themselves in the development process, they’re not just viewers – they’re participants.
- When the story reflects their real fears, hopes, and beliefs, they don’t just watch it – they share it.
- When the medium is tailored to their habits and their hearts, it doesn’t just break through – it lands.
Section 5: Who This Is For
This isn’t for every brand. But it’s exactly right for:
- Cause-based organizations that want to shift minds and move hearts.
- Philanthropic leaders who believe storytelling can scale good.
- Culture builders who know that the best ideas don’t go viral unless they’re designed to connect.
Section 6: How You Can Use Audience-Powered Film
Feel free to steal anything of value in this newsletter! First and foremost, I want to bless all of you reading this, so if something sticks and is helpful, it’s yours to use!
But if you’re thinking, “This sounds like a lot of work and I don’t want to do this myself,” we’d also love to help you. We’re offering a limited number of Audience-Powered Film pilot projects, with early-stage pricing to refine and validate the process.Timelines:
- GATHER & IMAGINE: 2-4 months (driven by availability and audience access).
- DEVELOP & GO-TO-MARKET: Varies by scope but typically 4-12 months.
If you’re leading a brand or initiative that has something truly worth saying, let’s build something that actually breaks through.
Here’s to Human Flourishing!
– Ian -
Buddhism, C.S. Lewis, and Practicing Presence.
Lately I’ve been spending a lot of time with someone who, over the past several months, has transformed from a wonderful client to a wonderful friend. For the purpose of this newsletter, let’s call him Dan. (…because that’s actually his name.)
Dan co-founded a media company that has over 10 million subscribers across all platforms. Dan’s an amazing person. Dan’s also an agnostic. In his words, he’s “compelled by the neuroscientific case for Buddhism but still sympathetic to many aspects of Christianity.” (Yeah. Dan talks more eloquently than I do.) He also often says that all the great religions point to the same mountain of truth, just from different angles. And you know what? Even though Dan and I violently disagree on many things (actually, we probably try too hard not to offend each other), he and I largely agree on this point.
He’d say the principles are emergent. I’d say they stem from the Designer who built his intentionality and love into every facet of creation. But either way, we’ve spent a lot of time talking about these principles because of a film we’re working on. The film is about an important public intellectual and his “principles of human progress” – ideas like mutual benefit, equal rights, and openness…
Anyhow, the more Dan and I’ve talked, the more I’ve started seeing these timeless principles everywhere. You know that thing where once you’re focused on something, you start noticing it all around you? The Germans have a word for it that sounds like a sneeze: Baader-Meinhof.
Case in point: I picked up Mere Christianity again recently for a small group I’m in, and right there in chapter one, C.S. Lewis lays it out. And by “it” I mean the “universal moral law.” (He calls it the “Tao” in a different book.) He argues that, deep down, we all know what’s right. We all agree on the basics: fairness, kindness, humility. But none of us consistently live like we believe it.
Here’s Lewis:
“Everyone has heard people quarreling. Sometimes it sounds funny and sometimes it sounds merely unpleasant; but however it sounds, I believe we can learn something very important from listening to the kinds of things they say. They say things like this: ‘How’d you like it if anyone did the same to you?’—‘That’s my seat, I was there first’—‘Leave him alone, he isn’t doing you any harm’—‘Why should you shove in first?’—‘Give me a bit of your orange, I gave you a bit of mine’—‘Come on, you promised.’
People say things like that every day, educated people as well as uneducated, and children as well as grown-ups.
What interests me about all these remarks is that the man who makes them is not merely saying that the other man’s behavior does not happen to please him. He is appealing to some kind of standard of behavior which he expects the other man to know about. And the other man very seldom replies: ‘To hell with your standard.’ Nearly always he tries to make out that what he has been doing does not really go against the standard, or that if it does there is some special excuse. He pretends there is some special reason in this particular case why the person who took the seat had a right to do so.”
He goes on for several pages like this, but at the end of the chapter, he summarizes:
“These, then, are the two points I wanted to make. First, that human beings, all over the earth, have this curious idea that they ought to behave in a certain way, and cannot really get rid of it. Secondly, that they do not in fact behave in that way. They know the Law of Nature; they break it.”
So what do you do with that tension between what we know and how we live?
Enter my latest spiritual tool: the Oura Ring. Yetta bought it for me after finding out that I’d been wanting one for months and now I’m using it to track everything. Heart rate, sleep quality, readiness score (whatever that is). But more importantly, it’s helping me pay attention. To slow down. Breathe. Lower stress. Be here now.
“Mindfulness,” Dan might call it. It reminds me of this:
“Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” – Jesus (Matthew 6:34)
So I’m learning, slowly, that presence isn’t about zen stillness or escaping the world (although, maybe there can be some of that too). But for me it’s about keeping a clear mind about who I am, how I relate to others (including my Creator), and living a bit less in the future or the past. I’m trying to practice a little less distraction (oof that’s tough), and trying instead to focus on how I’m treating those around me now. How I react to the stress stimuli now. Whether I’m enjoying the moment with my family now. Listening to a friend now. Praying (you guessed it! now). You get the picture.
Even Aristotle, who I’m told did not wear a smart ring (history buffs, check me on this), said something like this:
“Happiness is the activity of the soul in accordance with virtue. . .in a complete life.”
He didn’t think all men automatically know how to be virtuous, but he did say we learn to be virtuous through practice and repetition (habituation):
“We become just by doing just acts, temperate by doing temperate acts, brave by doing brave acts.” — Nicomachean Ethics, Book II
My point? Through squinting eyes, I think Aristotle, Lewis, Dan and I all agree a bit more than we might sometimes think. Perhaps like Lewis says, all people secretly know the laws of human nature AND perhaps like Aristotle says, it’s only through practicing those virtues that we habituate them into our daily practice to truly discover joy, peace, and happiness.
And perhaps, today as I’m looking at the mountain of deadlines our team is facing, instead of habituating stress or the trappings of mental fatigue, I can practice stopping, breathing, saying a prayer of gratitude, and responding with love, joy, peace, etc. instead.Perhaps we all can.
Until next time, here’s to Human Flourishing.
-IanNew Project Spotlight: The Story of America
For the past couple of months, we’ve had the honor of working with Hillsdale College and the White House on a new series on American History, featuring a lot of names you might recognize. New episodes drop every month, so stay tuned for more! Last week we went live with an episode about the 250th Anniversary and history of the U.S. Army (featuring Secretary of Defense, Pete Hegseth). Check it out!
ALSO, if you’re one of my many friends who might wonder “How can Ian work on something with THAT administration?!” Check out my Linked-in post about this very topic. We live in contentious times, but if we can all add a bit more truth, beauty, and goodness into the world, I’m all for trying to help make that happen!