Mark: Most self-help tells you to 'follow your passion.' A former federal murder prosecutor has a different idea: write your eulogy first. It’s less about passion and more about evidence. What would the closing argument for your life actually say? Michelle: Whoa, hold on. Write my eulogy? That sounds incredibly morbid. Are we starting the episode by planning our own funerals? That’s a bold choice, Mark. Mark: It sounds like it, but it’s actually the exact opposite. It’s about planning your life with intention. We're diving into the book "Start, Stay, or Leave" by Trey Gowdy. And what makes this book so fascinating, and why it's been so widely acclaimed, is the author himself. Michelle: Trey Gowdy… I know that name. He was a congressman, right? And a cable news contributor. Mark: Exactly. But before all that, he was a federal prosecutor, handling some of the most serious cases you can imagine. The core idea for this book didn't come from a meditation retreat; he says he developed this decision-making framework while preparing for a federal murder trial. Michelle: Okay, that changes things. A decision-making guide forged in a murder trial. That has my attention. It’s not your typical self-help guru. This is someone whose decisions had life-or-death consequences. Mark: Precisely. He argues that the same logic a prosecutor uses to build an airtight case can be used to build a meaningful life. It all starts with that seemingly morbid first step.

Michelle: Alright, I’m intrigued. Unpack this "prosecutor's mindset" for me. How does writing a closing argument for a trial, or a eulogy for a life, actually help you make a decision today? Mark: Gowdy tells this incredible story from his prosecutor days. Before he would even start interviewing witnesses or gathering evidence for a major trial, he would sit down and write his closing argument to the jury. The entire thing. Michelle: Wait, before he even knew all the facts? How is that possible? That seems completely backward. Mark: That’s the point! He says that by writing the final story he wanted to tell the jury—the story that would prove his case beyond a reasonable doubt—he created a perfect roadmap. Every piece of evidence he sought, every question he asked, every witness he called, was all designed to support that final argument. It gave him absolute clarity and purpose. Nothing was wasted. Michelle: Huh. So it’s like building the destination in Google Maps before you even start the car. You know exactly where you’re going, so you don’t take wrong turns. Mark: A perfect analogy. He says we should do the same with our lives. Instead of just wandering from job to job or relationship to relationship, we should "start at the end." We need to define what a successful, significant life looks like to us. What is the closing argument we want to be able to make about ourselves? Michelle: I can see how that would be powerful. But let’s be real, that also sounds a lot like just daydreaming or making a vision board. How is this different? Is it just a more serious-sounding version of "The Secret"? Mark: It's about the rigor. A vision board is about feelings and images. A closing argument is about evidence. Gowdy forces you to ask: what actions, what choices, what relationships are the evidence for the life I claim I want? If you say you want to be a great parent, what’s the evidence? If you want to be a successful entrepreneur, what’s the evidence? It moves it from a wish to a case you have to build, day by day. Michelle: That’s a huge distinction. It’s not about what you want to have, but about what you want to have done. The proof. Mark: And he knows the pain of not doing this from personal experience. He tells this story about his wedding day. The pastor, in front of everyone, made this grand prediction that Trey would one day be governor and his wife would be the first lady. Michelle: Oh, no. The pressure. Mark: Immense pressure. And for years, he admits he let that external expectation define his vision of success. He was chasing someone else's closing argument for his life. He says it's a trap so many of us fall into. We let our parents, our bosses, or society write our eulogy for us, and then we spend our lives trying to live up to it, even if it makes us miserable. Michelle: That is so true. It’s the "pyramid" or "ladder" model of success he talks about, right? This idea that you just have to keep climbing, get the next title, the next promotion, without ever asking if you even like the view from that ladder. Mark: Exactly. He says we need to replace that with what he calls the "mirror model." Success isn't about looking up at the next rung; it's about looking in the mirror and being able to say, "I was a person of my word today. I gave my best effort. I controlled my mindset." It’s about judging yourself based on things you can actually control. Michelle: I love that. It’s an antidote to the endless comparison culture of social media. Stop looking at their highlight reel and start looking at your own daily effort. But I have to ask, what if you start at the end, you have this grand vision, and you fail? Doesn't that just set you up for a massive disappointment? Mark: That's the beauty of another one of his core tenets: "What's the worst that could happen?" He argues that fear of failure is what paralyzes us. So, you confront it head-on. You want to start a business? Okay, what's the absolute worst-case scenario? You lose your savings, you have to move back in with your parents, you feel embarrassed. Michelle: That sounds pretty bad. Mark: It does. But once you've actually looked at it, named it, and made a plan for it, it loses its power. You realize you'd survive. It's not a monster in the dark anymore; it's just a problem you can solve. Preparing for the worst-case scenario doesn't make it more likely; it gives you the confidence to pursue the best-case scenario without being crippled by stress. Michelle: Okay, so you’re not just a dreamer; you’re a prepared realist. You have your grand vision, your closing argument, but you’ve also packed a parachute. That feels much more actionable. It’s a framework for courage. Mark: That's the perfect way to put it. It's a framework for courage. But defining your destination is only the first part. The next, and arguably harder part, is figuring out if your current path is actually taking you there.

Michelle: Right, because that’s the core of the book’s title: Start, Stay, or Leave. The "start" part makes sense with the closing argument. But how do you decide whether to stay or leave? That feels like the decision that tortures most people. The job that’s fine but not great. The city that’s comfortable but not exciting. Mark: This is where the "mirror" we just talked about becomes critical, but he pairs it with another, even more powerful concept: you need to find your "Nathan." Michelle: Your Nathan? What is that, a code name? Mark: It’s a biblical reference. In the Old Testament, King David does something terrible, but because he's the king, no one dares to confront him. They all flatter him. But the prophet Nathan comes to him, tells him a story, and forces David to see his own hypocrisy and wrongdoing. Nathan tells the king the truth he desperately needs to hear, at great personal risk. Michelle: Wow. So a "Nathan" is someone who will call you out. The person who tells you the unvarnished, brutal, necessary truth, even when you don't want to hear it. Mark: Precisely. Not a cheerleader, not a sycophant. Gowdy says everyone needs a Nathan in their life. When he was considering leaving his job as a prosecutor to run for Congress, he was torn. He consulted his friend Ben Gramling, his "Nathan." He laid out all the pros and cons, and Ben listened patiently. Michelle: And what did Ben say? "Follow your dreams"? Mark: Not at all. Ben’s response was brutally honest. He said, "Trey, you're good at what you do now. You're probably not going to be good at that. You're not going to like it. And you're going to be gone all the time." It was a cold splash of water. Michelle: Ouch. That’s a tough thing to hear from a friend. What did Gowdy do? Mark: He still ran, but he went into it with his eyes wide open. Ben's advice didn't stop him, but it armed him against the inevitable frustrations and disappointments. He knew what he was getting into. A Nathan doesn't make your decisions for you; they just make sure you're making them based on reality, not fantasy. Michelle: That makes so much sense. But finding a Nathan feels almost impossible. Most friends want to be supportive, which usually means telling you what you want to hear. How do you distinguish a true Nathan from just a hater or a cynic who shoots down every idea? Mark: Gowdy gives a few criteria. A Nathan has to have your best interests at heart, always. Their criticism comes from a place of love and a desire to see you succeed on your terms. They also know you well—your strengths, your weaknesses, your history. And most importantly, they have nothing to gain or lose from your decision. Their advice is pure. Michelle: That last one is key. Their ego isn't tied up in your outcome. They're not living vicariously through you. Mark: Exactly. And this is the process for the big "Stay or Leave" questions. You look in the mirror: "Is this current situation providing evidence for my closing argument? Am I growing? Am I living by my own values?" And then you consult your Nathan: "What am I not seeing? What's the hard truth I'm avoiding?" Michelle: It’s a two-part reality check. One internal, one external. Mark: And sometimes, the answer is to stay. He makes a powerful point that "staying" isn't a consolation prize. Sometimes, staying is the harder, more courageous choice. It means committing to building something better right where you are, rather than running away to the next shiny object. He tells a lovely story about him and his wife debating a move. They could go to a bigger city, closer to media hubs, more opportunities. Michelle: The logical choice, right? Mark: The logical choice. But they decided to stay. Why? Because of the trees in their front yard. Trees they had planted in memory of her deceased parents and their beloved dogs. They realized those memories, that sense of place, was evidence for the life they wanted to live that no career opportunity could replace. Michelle: That’s beautiful. That’s the kind of decision that doesn't fit on a spreadsheet. It shows that this framework isn't just cold, hard logic. It makes room for the heart. It's about balancing logic, emotion, and intuition. Mark: That's the whole system. The head, the heart, and the gut. You need all three. Your closing argument is your head. The mirror and your Nathan provide the reality check. And stories like the one about the trees—that’s your heart and your gut telling you what truly matters.

Mark: When you pull it all together, you see that Gowdy's framework is really a system of checks and balances for your life, which makes sense coming from a former congressman. Michelle: I can see that. It’s not just one magic bullet. It’s a whole process. Mark: Exactly. "Starting at the end" is your offense—it’s your vision, your ambition, your forward momentum. It’s the case you’re trying to build. Michelle: And the "mirror" and your "Nathan" are your defense. They are the reality check. They’re the opposing counsel in your own head, poking holes in your weak arguments and forcing you to be honest about the facts on the ground. Mark: That’s a fantastic way to put it. You need both a strong offense and a strong defense to make good decisions. You need the dream, and you need the truth. Without the dream, you drift. Without the truth, you delude yourself. Michelle: So the real takeaway here isn't just a simple three-step plan. It's a call to become the lead prosecutor of your own life. To be rigorous, to gather the evidence, to know your case inside and out, and to argue it with conviction, first to yourself and then to the world. Mark: It's about taking that level of professional seriousness and applying it to the most important project you'll ever have: your own life. It's about moving from being a passive defendant, letting life happen to you, to being an active prosecutor, making life happen for you. Michelle: I love that. It’s empowering without being fluffy. It’s practical, it’s grounded, and honestly, it’s a relief. It gives you permission to stop chasing everyone else’s definition of success. Mark: And maybe the first question to ask isn't even 'Start, Stay, or Leave?' Maybe the first question is the one you posed earlier: 'What evidence am I currently presenting for the life I claim I want?' Michelle: That’s a question that could change everything. A powerful and slightly terrifying thought to end on. Mark: This is Aibrary, signing off.