Made a video on something I had to learn the hard way.
For five years I was deep in the entrepreneurial grind — copywriting, offer building, marketing, investing. I got better at making money. I got worse at being myself.
The thing nobody tells you about chasing success is how quietly it steals from you. It’s not dramatic. You don’t lose your creativity in one moment. You just stop feeding it. You stop creating for the sake of creation. You start measuring everything — views, revenue, conversions — and somewhere in those spreadsheets, the part of you that just wanted to make things goes silent.
I’ve been a dancer for 17 years. I did parkour. I performed. I was C3PO at a Jewish party in Wyoming. I choreographed shows. I was in it. Then I decided to get serious about business, and I basically put that entire side of myself in a box.
What woke me up was a dream. I was in a house, and every person in it was a version of my inner critic. All of them screaming different things — you’re not good enough, you look like a little kid, nobody cares about your art. At some point I realized what was happening. There was a voice underneath all the noise asking: why are you so harsh on yourself?
I woke up and turned on the camera.
Part of coming back to movement is also research. I’m building an app for freestyle dancers — something that makes it easier to record rounds without friction. I lost touch with the market by stepping away from the craft. You can’t build well for people you’ve stopped being. So this is me going back to being a student. Taking classes. Doing privates. Letting myself not know things again.
The business skills aren’t going anywhere. But neither is the dancer. I’m done pretending I have to choose.
What did you have to give up to “get serious” — and do you think it was worth it?
~ Akino
Full Transcript
I got this mic from Amazon for like 10 bucks and I put the DJI microphone on it. Does something interesting to my energy — I feel professional. I feel like I’m the guy. We all know that you’re not the guy.
So I had a shower thought today. I have a notepad in the shower. As I go back into the YouTube space, as I heal my creativity, I thought it’d be cool to share my journey of movement — dance, parkour — and running back into my content.
For the past five years, as I focused more on my career as a marketer, entrepreneur, investor — I lost connection to a lot of my creative passion. I want to revive those things. It’s really important for my soul. Movement is a practice that for the past 17 years taught me how to study my consciousness from an outside perspective and through a different lens. My exploration of these art forms was more so for personal development, self-study, self-expression, and self-analysis — not to go viral.
What triggered this was a number of things. One of the projects I’m working on — with my friends who are dancers, a crew called Hybrid Stance Crew — they realized it’s actually a really cool opportunity for me to re-explore my art and combine those two realms of art and business. It’s valuable to immerse myself back into the craft so I can understand the mindset of a dancer again, because I feel like I’ve lost so much touch with that side of myself.
I’ve been a dancer for 17 years. I used to dance with the Jabbawockeez — America’s Best Dance Crew season one winners. Over the past few years I would do creative gigs — that’s how I expressed my artistry — but it was more for a monetary outcome. One time we choreographed a show for Segway. One time I was C3PO and got flown out to Wyoming for a Jewish party.
Before I started doing marketing, copywriting, offer building, entrepreneurial stuff — I was very much a creative. I professionally danced. I professionally did parkour. I performed. But what I really want to invite back into my life is creating for the sake of creation again.
Even though I’ve been a dancer for 17 years, I really want to go back into being a student again. I want to take classes. I want to do private lessons. I want to nurture my creative spirit and feel open and safe to share the journey.
There are three things I’m thinking about: I want to share my dance, my movement, my parkour. I want to share that journey and the things I learned from art — because it’s hard to find content from people who are autodidacts, who have multiple interests. I want to share the lessons from art and how that correlates to business and vice versa. Everything is connected. The way you design your lifestyle is connected to the root of who you are. You dance how you live. You move how you live.
I was talking with my therapist the other day. I was telling him how it got really hard for me to turn on the camera — 19 years of being a content creator, fears of being seen, a brand going in a direction that didn’t make me feel fulfilled. All this pressure to create in a certain way to get a certain monetary result. After talking with him, he gave me a challenge: “Just turn on the camera and just talk. Don’t worry.” Simple. But sometimes that’s why therapy is helpful.
Another reason I wanted to do this: I’ve always felt disconnected. I just never really belonged in any community. Always introverted, always shy going out into dance communities, always felt imposter syndrome because I didn’t pursue dance with the same ambition as most others. I love doing so many things that it’s hard to feel like I belong in any particular area.
I’m also building an app — with GPT and AI teaching me how to code in Xcode. I really want to make an app for freestyle dancers that makes it easier to record rounds. It’s a very niche problem in the dance community. Something I really want to exist. So as I give love back to the craft, as I take classes and evolve my voice as a dancer and creator — I’m simultaneously learning the market. Finding problems to solve, to create something that can help dancers express themselves with less friction.
I made a really big mistake — the past five years shutting myself out from my art while succeeding financially. I lost a lot of my soul. This YouTube channel, content creation, making this app — these are psychological steps back towards my authenticity. These are the projects that bring me joy. The projects that make me excited to live and to create. And they also make me a little scared to talk about.
Last night I had a dream. I was in a house and every character represented a voice in my head that is mean to me — “you’re not good enough,” “you look like a little kid, no one’s gonna take you seriously,” “your art’s no good, no one’s gonna care.” Every single person represented a limiting belief. There’s a point where I’m sitting down and all these voices are screaming louder and louder, and then I realized: this is a dream. This is a lesson. And there was a voice underneath it all: Why are you so harsh on yourself, Perris?
I’ve gone through phases — deep insecurities and fears of being seen, and then what I call my free spirit era, from about 18 to 2023, where I was traveling the world and didn’t really give a shit about what other people thought. I felt confident. I felt in tune with my soul. And then I lost myself again in business. Now I’m in the phase where I’m trying to find my authenticity again. And I am finding it — with every video.
That dream was the catalyst. Fuck all those voices. Let’s try this.
These videos are basically just conversations with myself. Thank you for watching. I love you guys like I love myself.