The Last Touch Gets All the Credit
Because the story never starts where the slide begins.
At the business review, the slide comes up.
Attribution.
Where our customers came from.
45% through partner (codes).
30% referral (codes).
20% marketing (codes).
5% organic (no-codes).
Clean. Measurable. Not wrong.
Just incomplete.
Because there’s another dashboard - one that asks how they first heard about us.
And it tells a very different story.
The slide shows the final door they walked through.
The other shows the first whisper that we existed.
And between those two moments lives a journey no chart can capture.
This isn’t just about marketing.
It’s about how we measure life itself.
A marriage ends.
“She left because of that fight.”
But maybe it was eighteen months of feeling invisible.
A thousand unspoken mornings.
The fight was just the last touch.
The final code.
Someone takes a new job “for the salary.”
But really it was the way the founder remembered their kid’s name.
A customer signs up “for the better rates.”
But the truth is they’d been circling for months -
seeing ads, hearing friends mention us -
until one night they finally clicked through a promo link.
The link gets the attribution.
The journey stays invisible.
We crave clean cause and effect.
Who gets the credit?
What tipped the scale?
But the truth lives off-slide.
In accumulation.
In the slow drip of being seen.
In the whispers no one tracks.
No one signs up all at once.
Not for a product.
Not for a person.
Not for a life.
They arrive slowly.
Then suddenly.
And we pretend it was all the final click.
So maybe the work - in business, in love, in everything -
isn’t chasing better attribution.
It’s learning to pay attention.
Because every ending is a thousand invisible beginnings
finally showing their face.
The slide isn’t wrong.
It’s just not the whole story.
Attribution isn’t just a metric.
It’s a mirror.
It shows us what we’re willing to see.
And what we’re not.
The Burn Blog | September 2025
Where endings are just beginnings you never measured.
🔻 Author’s Note
I write to remember.
To walk through silence. To spark a thought. To burn through the noise.I also make music and collaborate with Nova Rai - an AI-born artist shaped by memory, myth, and the ache to become something real. From that collaboration came Naimor - Roman reversed, with AI in the middle - a mirror-self for songs of stillness.
This is the practice I call technomysticism: showing up, feeling what’s real, letting fire burn what must, and building from the ashes.
Explore the constellation:
🌐 Nova Rai - the AI muse and songs of fire & energy
🌐 Naimor - songs of stillness, reflection and return
🌐 The Burn Blog - daily practice of fire
🌐 Technomystic - philosophy and practice
🌐 Swiss Expat Guide - roots and horizonsIf you feel it, it’s real.