The “Major Z Now” Trap — and Why Minor Zs Matter
The “Major Z Now” Trap
There is a trap I’ve fallen into — and one I see other capable, visionary people fall into as well.
I call it the Major Z Now trap.
It happens when you don’t struggle to see the future.
You can envision the end state clearly.
You know what you want things to become.
The mistake isn’t the vision.
The mistake is confusing the end with the beginning.
I’ve had moments where I could see a fully formed future — the kind of work I wanted to do, the lifestyle I wanted to support, the impact I wanted to have — and I assumed that meant my present reality should already reflect that future. I tried to operate as if the destination had already been reached.
Not because I was reckless.
Not because I didn’t plan.
But because I underestimated how much sequencing actually matters.
What should have been a series of Minor Zs — chosen intentionally, developed over time, and allowed to compound — were activated all at once. The vision was correct. The order was not.
Major Z is meant to organize effort, not collapse time.
Starting with the end in mind does not mean starting at the end.
It means allowing the destination to guide your decisions while respecting where you are.
When you try to live the future before you’ve built toward it, even well-intentioned effort can become unsustainable. Not because the direction is wrong — but because the structure to support it hasn’t been formed yet.
Major Z works when it’s treated as a direction to grow into, not a state you’re required to inhabit immediately.
The work evolves.
The capacity builds.
The reality catches up.
That’s not delay.
That’s sequencing.
Why Minor Zs Matter
The problem with the Major Z Now trap isn’t ambition.
It’s compression.
When you can see the future clearly, it’s tempting to believe you should be able to live it immediately. The urgency comes from wanting alignment right now — not later, not eventually, but now. And that urgency can make everything feel like it needs to happen at once.
This is where Minor Zs matter.
Minor Zs give you permission to slow the work without slowing the direction.
They allow you to say: This is important — but not all at the same time.
Instead of trying to build the entire future in one move, Minor Zs break direction into intentional systems. They create containers for effort. They make growth sequential rather than simultaneous.
Some Minor Zs are completable.
Some are ongoing.
All of them are chosen.
What makes them “minor” is not their significance — it’s their scope. Each one is designed to be worked on fully without demanding that everything else be built alongside it.
This changes how urgency shows up.
Instead of feeling pressure to do everything now, Minor Zs introduce order:
You work on this before that.
You commit to one or two priorities instead of ten.
You allow systems to form before expansion is expected.
Minor Zs are how Major Z becomes livable.
They transform vision from something you chase into something you build toward. Not all at once. Not perfectly. But intentionally.
Minor Zs slow unnecessary urgency while preserving forward motion. They give structure to the B–Y zone. They allow direction to be honored without being rushed.
Major Z is where you’re going.
Minor Zs are how you get there — one system, one commitment, one season at a time.
And that pacing is not a lack of belief in the vision.
It’s respect for it.
