Book Review: 'Shoe Dogs' by Phil Knight

What It Means to “Forget the Self”

Inspired by Dogen and grounded in life’s real practice.

“To study the self is to forget the self.” When I first read this quote by Dogen, I paused. Sat with it. Let it echo around in my chest for a bit.

In a world where self-branding and self-promotion are practically expected, forgetting the self almost sounds like rebellion. But what if it’s not rebellion at all? What if it’s the truest form of freedom? This idea—it doesn’t reject the self as much as it invites us to move beyond the tight little box we cram ourselves into. The box full of expectations, titles, and to-do lists.

For me, I’ve been learning (and re-learning) that life rarely goes exactly as we planned. I’m a husband, a father, a friend, and somewhere in between, I read books like my life depends on it. Not just for escape—though, sure, I’ll take a break from the noise of social media scrolls—but to remember truths I didn’t even know I forgot.

Dogen’s words? They’re not theory. They’re lived. When I’m chasing my toddler through the house, helping with a science project, or just sitting across the dinner table from my wife, I’m not “thinking” about being me. I’m just being. Fully present. Fully here. And maybe that’s what forgetting the self really means—getting out of your own head long enough to show up for your actual life.

The Bookstore is My Temple

Where covers call louder than screens, and stories spark fire.

Some folks unwind with Netflix. Me? I hunt down bookstores like they’re hidden treasure. Whether it's a local spot or the public library on a quiet weekday afternoon, these places pull me in like gravity. Something about holding a physical book, the weight of possibility in your hands… it’s sacred.

That’s how I found Shoe Dog by Phil Knight. I didn’t pick it up because someone said it was a must-read. I didn’t follow an algorithm’s recommendation. I picked it because the cover caught my eye, and when I opened to the first few pages, I felt a pull—like “this is the one.” Maybe you know that feeling. That quiet voice saying, “Yeah, this one's for you.”

And let me tell you, this book delivered. I read it over a week and a half, but honestly? I didn’t want it to end. I haven’t felt that since I was a kid sneaking books under the covers with a flashlight. The story wasn’t just about building a billion-dollar brand—it was about risk, sacrifice, belief, and the power of vision. Not in a motivational-poster kind of way. In a “strap in, this is gonna be a wild, real ride” kind of way.

The Truths That Stayed With Me from Shoe Dogs

Not just takeaways—life-stays.

One of the first things that stuck with me? The power of people. Phil’s journey wasn’t a one-man show. His mom, his coach, his co-founders—they were the scaffolding holding up the dream while he built the walls.

That reminded me of something I’ve come to believe: mentorship and community are fuel. We can’t get far without them. Every big thing I’ve tried to do has been shaped by the people who walked beside me—even when I thought I was walking alone.

Then there’s the team—the “ButtFaces,” as Phil affectionately calls them. A crew of misfits who didn’t look like a powerhouse team, but had grit that didn’t quit. That kind of team isn’t hired—it’s assembled. Over time. Through fire. Through setbacks. Through late nights and high-stakes moments. I love that kind of story, because it’s not polished—it’s real.

Lastly, the biggest truth? Belief sells. Not in some manipulative marketing way. I mean real belief. Phil didn’t have a warehouse, a team, or a prototype when he first traveled to Japan. What he did have was a vision. An inner knowing that he could bring something to the world. And that? That was enough to get the first “yes.”

That one hit me hard. Because how many times do we hold back, thinking we’re not ready? Waiting for the perfect time, the perfect pitch, the perfect product? But the truth is, readiness is a myth. Belief is the spark. Execution is the fire.

Learning to Let Go of the Perfect Plan

Because the ride’s better when your hands aren’t glued to the wheel.

There’s a kind of peace that comes when you stop trying to script your entire life like a Marvel movie. I’ve had plans blow up. I’ve had dreams change shape. I’ve had outcomes surprise me in ways I never could’ve predicted.

What Shoe Dog reminded me is that life—and business—is less about controlling every detail and more about showing up every day. You take the step, you do the work, and you adjust on the fly. Sometimes it’s messy. Sometimes it’s scary. But it’s always yours.

I think that’s what Dogen was getting at. When you stop obsessing over how you’re showing up, and just show up, that’s when the magic happens. That’s when you can fully love, fully risk, fully believe. Not because it’s safe—but because it’s worth it.

Until Next Time

If you’ve been thinking about reading Shoe Dog, go ahead and add it to your shelf. But more than that? Let it remind you that big things don’t need to be perfect to be powerful. They just need to be real. Built on belief. Fueled by people. And anchored by the willingness to risk, sacrifice, and go again.

So here’s to forgetting the self, even if just for a moment... and in doing so, becoming more of who we were always meant to be.