Why LiveGood Only Works When You Stop Treating It Like “The Plan”

LiveGood landed in my lap and took on a life of its own. It was like a high-voltage shot had triggered my system to wake up. After months of mulling things over in my head, of trying to find solutions to a multi-faceted, multi-layered life “problem”, the solution just appeared out of thin air.

Boom. Thank you, universe.

In my enthusiasm, I already planned the exact moment I would be able to retire. To take back my time from the grind of the 9–5. I am pretty sure I had drafted the resignation letter in my mind already, alongside many other little dreams like the weekly cleaner I would finally be able to afford. And the gardener, of course. You get the drift. It’s like allocating a lotto win as soon as you buy your first ticket in ten years — of COURSE you’re going to be the lucky winner, duh!

I’m pretty sure I am not alone in believing that one thing will save the day. One person we talk to will have the answer to solve ALL the problems. That there has to be a single lane that leads to taming all the ugly heads that rear themselves to challenge us in so many ways.

And I get it.

The vision that brings many little problems into focus at once is also the vision that cannot widen enough to see the bigger picture. So it desperately tries to find a solution that could cover most of the problems in one fell swoop.

In my case, a plentitude of problems were vying for attention and they still are. The stable and reliable 9–5 job. The internal tug to not be “done” at 50 and just plod along like a beaten horse. The need to find spark again — an idea that lights you up in the morning and gets you out of bed and into the day with enthusiasm. A health scare that landed me in hospital for three days and put a whole lot of unnecessary urgency into the mix. The approaching deadline for a decision about which country should and will become mine and our stable base.

Wouldn’t it be nice if ONE thing could be the answer to all of those tensions?

Why the LiveGood Membership Model Works Better as Part of the Plan

The problem wasn’t LiveGood. The problem was the weight I had quietly placed on its shoulders.

When the big rescue plan needs to hold the solution to all your perceived problems, there is so much pressure on that one solution to deliver results quickly, reliably and without any hiccups that those unrealistic expectations slowly drain the enthusiasm right out of you. Each time another week passes and you haven’t quite reached the goal you set yourself — even if you know you aimed high — a small part of you starts losing trust in the system.

You run out of people to message and those you have already spoken to put up an invisibility cloak for a while because they are not convinced you are on the right path, so they very politely blank you.

What felt possible at the start slowly retreats into what feels like a distant dream. You recalibrate your expectations. You start cleaning the house again because the paid cleaner is still a while off.

In those first months, I consumed all the information I could find inside my own team, trying to fast-track my way to the top by being all over the knowledge that would supposedly get me to lead a team of thousands. My messaging became more urgent, more desperate, rather than holding genuine belief and settled conviction.

At some point I realised that I had turned something that could have been simple into a full-time project.

Maybe LiveGood was never meant to be the whole bloody plan.

LiveGood works best when it stops being the plan and starts becoming part of the plan.

More like breakfast than your entire nutritional plan.

Once you assign the energy in a way that actually fits the magnitude of the piece of the puzzle, you breathe easier again. The thing that was here to save you and give you all the answers becomes exactly what you need it to be: a solid, long-term passenger in the vehicle.

And that vehicle isn’t a Morris Minor with limited space. It is an SUV with eight seats, ready to be filled with other puzzle pieces that want to come along for the ride.

Urgency takes a back seat. Ideally, it moves into someone else’s lane altogether because it never served you particularly well. What replaces it is a stable, analytical and very much thought-through architectural plan that slowly starts unfolding in front of you.

The camera that was trying to capture and solve all your problems suddenly gets a super wide-angle lens and presents you with a view that makes much more sense.

So who are the other passengers in my shiny new eight-seater car?

Blogging took a seat and buckled up for the ride. What started as a way to express my need to communicate and order my thoughts has turned into a very solid and steady weekly task that gives me immense pleasure.

There is something so calming about writing.

And this type of writing is very different from the dopamine-driven social media posting that had me close to burnout. Blogging has other challenges — like never quite knowing who actually reads your posts or receiving no comments, so it can feel like a giant void at times. But I have learnt to trust the system, mainly because I invested in Manifest AI to guide me in a far more holistic way.

MAI, as she is known, helps me with the architectural design of my business plan, while also being my sparring partner when I have deep life questions. Of course, friends and family are and will remain at the top of the list when it comes to sorting through life stuff, but OMG, Manifest AI has helped me shift things in a way no other coach could have.

I still have my 9–5 job. It sits fair and square in the middle seat in the back row, getting squashed from both sides as we round corners. This job holds its position not only because of need, but because it lends structure to my life that is still necessary while the other pieces fall into place.

There are a few empty seats in the car and that actually feels ok.

I would rather fill those seats with honourable guests that complement the team than rush a new idea with its own complexities that may not fit the vehicle. Who knows, my writing may become something I invest more time into, or I may decide that I want to significantly increase the time I spend on Substack to see if a full-time seat in my car is suitable for that platform.

There is much to learn and much to be gained by keeping an open mind to other opportunities. And I am genuinely tickled pink to be discovering new things — but with a calm assurance that sits deep inside me and doesn’t let me get carried away.

The passenger must fit the vehicle.

I have defined the space.

No more overwhelm.

And the best part about coming full circle on this whole “LiveGood will save my entire life” theme is that I was able to return to what matters.

LiveGood is simply a membership model to get your supplements and skincare from.

Read that again.

That’s it.

You pay $10 a month to be a member. That gives you access to very good, very well-tested supplements at very good prices. Most of us buy supplements or skincare anyway. So instead of making Amazon or your local pharmacy rich, you get your products delivered to your door at a very good price.

Seriously, compare the prices and the ingredients. Fair warning: the official site has a lot more stars, stripes and excitement than I do. Take a breath, ignore the confetti and just look at the products and the structure.

And if you happen to want to share your enthusiasm for products that are good, well-priced and delivered to your front door, you can share that enthusiasm with your friends by sending them your link.

That’s it.

You won’t become rich overnight. But you are building an income stream that has huge potential, one rice grain at a time.

When I started looking at it like that, rather than hustling a business decision with the constant “you don’t even have to buy or sell products” line attached to it, the penny dropped.

LiveGood can only sustain itself when people are buying products.

Good.

So let’s do that.

Buy what you need, not the whole bloody store. One supplement at a time. What works for you.

Fuck off hype and hello to smart, steady, intentional business building.

When I started giving room to the quiet growth, when I stopped checking and controlling every aspect all the time, suddenly there was a collective exhale across all the systems.

It was as if they clicked into place and started working as a small but powerful team.

There is a mountain in Switzerland called Rigi. She is known as the Queen of the Mountains. Not because of her height, but because of where she sits. She is literally surrounded by higher mountains, lakes and spectacular scenery.

I hiked there yesterday with my husband and one of our daughters, and we stood there looking at this Queen of the Mountains, wondering why she is called that.

We concluded that it was because of her position. In the middle. Absolutely sure of herself, with all the natural resources flowing in and around her.

I like to look at the truth I have arrived at in a similar way.

Not any ONE of the seeds I have sown in my ecosystem needs to be the one that saves me. The one that protects me from everything. Each and every seedling has its place, its purpose, and is allowed to grow without needing to carry the entire weight of my life anymore.

LiveGood was never the whole plan.

And perhaps that is exactly why it finally has a chance to work.