Malvin’s Introduction

You know, in the Netherlands, we have a saying: “Doe maar gewoon, dan doe je al gek genoeg.” It means, “Just act normal, that’s crazy enough.” But what if I told you that to leave a legacy—something that truly lasts—you must dare to be a bit gek, a bit crazy, and a lot more complete than just ‘normal’? Sit with me, Malvin, your storyteller from the lowlands, as I take you through two lives—two men, two careers, two tales that together reveal the six-sided secret to real, lasting success.

I have always believed that stories are the best teachers. So, let’s start with Marlon and Jack. Two men who, over the last ten years, have each chased their own version of success. Their journeys are as different as stroopwafels and haring, but both are instructive. Let’s take a fiets door hun levens—a little bike ride through their lives.

Marlon: The Driven Meteor

Marlon was born with a fire in his belly. From his earliest days, he was the boy who ran faster, worked harder, and dreamed bigger than anyone else in his village near Rotterdam. He had three gifts: Passion, Pace, and Performance. The holy trinity of the ambitious, you might say.

The First Five Years: Up, Up, and Away

At twenty-eight, Marlon landed a job at one of those shiny tech firms in Amsterdam Zuid. You know the type—beanbags, kombucha on tap, and everyone in sneakers. From day one, Marlon was a whirlwind. His passion was infectious. He’d arrive before the sun, leave after the moon, and in between, he’d deliver results that made his managers say, “Jongen, wat een kanjer!” (What a champ!)

His pace was relentless. While others took lunch at the canal, Marlon ate at his desk, eyes glued to his screen, fingers dancing over keys. His performance reviews were a string of exclamation marks. Promotions followed, each one faster than the last. By thirty-three, he was a director, his name whispered in meetings as the man who got things done.

But here’s the thing, and let me be blunt as we Dutch often are: Marlon’s world was a narrow one. He didn’t slow down to ask how his colleagues felt about the late nights. He didn’t notice the intern crying in the bathroom or the quiet genius in the corner who needed a nudge, not a shove. Empathy? Sacrifice? Curiosity about others? Niet echt zijn ding—not really his thing.

Years Six to Ten: The Plateau

Success, for Marlon, was a straight line—until it wasn’t. By year six, the cracks began to show. His team, exhausted, started to leave. New hires came and went, unable to keep up with his tempo. He delivered results, yes, but the projects lacked soul. The company grew, but the culture shrank.

Marlon won awards—Employee of the Year, Innovator of the Quarter—but at the Christmas borrel, he stood alone, glass in hand, watching others laugh in little groups. He was respected, even admired, but rarely loved.

By year ten, Marlon was a senior executive. He had a corner office, a fat salary, and a LinkedIn profile that sparkled. But the joy had faded. The work felt repetitive. He’d mastered his craft, but the magic was gone. He’d climbed the ladder, only to find it leaning against the wrong wall.

Jack: The Quiet Builder

Now, let me introduce Jack. If Marlon was a meteor, Jack was a gardener. He started his career in a small non-profit in Utrecht, a place where the coffee was always a bit too strong and the chairs a bit too wobbly. Jack had three gifts too: Sacrifice, Empathy, and Curiosity.

The First Five Years: Roots and Shoots

Jack was never the loudest in the room. He listened more than he spoke, and when he did speak, people leaned in. He took the time to know his colleagues—their birthdays, their worries, their dreams. When the office manager’s mother fell ill, Jack organized a meal train. When a new intern arrived, Jack was the first to invite them for a kopje koffie.

His curiosity was boundless. He asked questions, not just about work, but about life. He read widely, from psychology to poetry, always seeking to understand what made people tick. He sacrificed his evenings to mentor others, his weekends to volunteer at local shelters.

Jack’s career moved slowly. He was not promoted as quickly as Marlon. His performance reviews were solid, but never spectacular. But his team was loyal. They stayed, they grew, and they trusted him.

Years Six to Ten: The Bloom

By year six, Jack was leading a small team. They tackled tough projects—ones that required patience, resilience, and a deep understanding of people. They didn’t always win awards, but their work changed lives. The non-profit gained a reputation for warmth, integrity, and innovation.

Jack was happy. Fulfilled, even. He had built something real, something that mattered. At the ten-year mark, his team threw him a surprise party. There were tears, laughter, and stories of lives changed. Jack’s career was not flashy, but to those who knew him, it was a triumph.

The Comparison: What One Has, the Other Lacks

Let’s put the last ten years of Marlon and Jack side by side, like two bikes in a rack. What did each gain? What did each miss?

Marlon’s Decade

• Achievements: Rapid promotions, high salary, industry awards, impressive CV.
• Skills: Mastery of execution, relentless drive, ability to deliver under pressure.
• Network: Wide but shallow. Many know his name, few know his heart.
• Personal Life: Isolated. Few close friends at work, little time for family.
• Legacy: Projects completed, profits made, but little lasting impact on people or culture.

Jack’s Decade

• Achievements: Slow promotions, modest salary, quiet reputation.
• Skills: Deep empathy, mentorship, ability to build trust and loyalty.
• Network: Small but deep. Those who know him would walk through fire for him.
• Personal Life: Rich. Strong relationships, meaningful connections.
• Legacy: Lives changed, a culture of kindness, a team that thrives long after he’s gone.

What Marlon Has That Jack Doesn’t

• The external markers of success: titles, money, public recognition.
• The thrill of rapid achievement.
• A reputation for getting things done, no matter the cost.

What Jack Has That Marlon Doesn’t

• Deep, authentic relationships.
• A sense of purpose and fulfillment.
• A legacy that lives in the hearts of others, not just in company records.

The Missing Sides: Why the Hexagon Matters

Now, luister goed—listen well. Neither Marlon nor Jack is the whole story. Marlon, with his passion, pace, and performance, soared high but burned out. Jack, with his sacrifice, empathy, and curiosity, built deep roots but never reached the heights his talents deserved.

The truth is, to leave a legacy—to be truly successful in a way that matters—you need all six sides of the hexagon.

• Passion gives you the fire to start.
• Pace keeps you moving forward.
• Performance ensures you deliver results.
• Empathy connects you to others.
• Sacrifice grounds you in something bigger than yourself.
• Curiosity keeps you growing, always.

Without passion, you’re a robot. Without pace, you stagnate. Without performance, you fade into the background. But without empathy, sacrifice, and curiosity, your success is hollow—like a stroopwafel without the syrup.

The Lesson: A Dutch Reflection

In the Netherlands, we value balance. We ride our bikes through wind and rain, not because it’s easy, but because it’s the best way to get where we’re going. Too much wind, you fall. Too little, you never move. The same is true for success.

Marlon and Jack each had half the map. Marlon knew how to climb, but not how to care. Jack knew how to nurture, but not how to push. Imagine if Marlon had Jack’s empathy, or if Jack had Marlon’s drive. What could they have achieved?

The Invitation: Your Legacy

As you read this book, I invite you to reflect on your own journey. Are you a Marlon, racing ahead but missing the people beside you? Or are you a Jack, building quietly but afraid to step into the spotlight? Or maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to become something more—a leader who embodies all six sides of the hexagon.

In the chapters to come, we’ll explore each side in detail. We’ll meet people who have mastered the art of balance, and we’ll learn practical ways to grow where we are weak. Because, as we say in Holland, “Wie niet waagt, wie niet wint.” If you don’t dare, you don’t win.

So, pak je jas, grab your coat, and let’s set out together. The road to legacy is long, but the view is worth it.

MB