I share all this not to claim the victim position but in the honest vulnerability that I, too, struggle. But I don't suffer. To suffer is to want that which is otherwise. And I have come to appreciate the vibrancy of my subconscious mind.

They land on my calendar desiring things to be different. And for good reason, of course. Desire is the contract we make to suffer until we achieve what we are after. The vast majority of us are driven not by ecological pursuit but by mimetics. To escape the way things are for a more enviable alternative.

It would be easy to will away my struggle of chaotic dreams. But this would relegate me to a life of suffering. Instead, I can ask: "How can I use them to help me?" My mornings have become that answer. A reframe. One where the investments are consistent and the outcomes ecological. No life is without struggle. Suffering, however, is a choice.

"Want to go to the mountains with a small group of humans, connect over a fire, do something hard the next day, reflect over dinner, and leave after sharing a breakfast?" I've sent that text countless times recently. The response is telling: "YES! You have no idea how bad I need this right now."

We've become masterful at maintaining the appearance of connection while systematically avoiding its substance. We collect followers but have few confidants. We amass likes but rarely feel truly seen. A Harvard Business Review study found that 61% of executives feel lonely in their role and believe it hinders their performance.

Social media platforms are engineered to trigger dopamine responses through likes, comments, and shares, creating a false sense of validation that approximates but never truly satisfies our need for genuine connection. We become performers rather than participants. True vulnerability, the kind that forms the bedrock of authentic connection, isn't curated. It's messy. It's real-time. It happens eye-to-eye, not screen-to-screen.

Your brain performs a cognitive marathon every single day, and it's been running this race for years without a proper rest stop. You're asking a brain designed for occasional bursts of focused attention to maintain constant, effortful focus for 12-hour stretches. It's like asking a sprinter to run a marathon at sprint speed. Eventually, something breaks down.

Social media feels like a mental break, but it's actually demanding directed attention as you process information and navigate constant stimulation. This is why you can spend an entire weekend "relaxing" and still feel exhausted on Monday. You never actually gave your directed attention system the restoration it needed.

Research shows that a 40-minute walk in nature can improve cognitive performance by 20%. A weekend in a forest environment can restore attention capacity for up to 30 days. But most people haven't experienced 40 minutes of true natural restoration in months. The question isn't whether you can afford to restore your attention—it's whether you can afford not to.

There's a particularly cruel irony in entrepreneurial life: The higher you climb, the smaller your world becomes. When you were starting out, anything was possible. Every door could open. Every idea had potential. Now? Your calendar is full of commitments you made when you thought they would energize you. Your decisions ripple through so many lives that every choice feels like it carries the weight of the world.

Here's what no one tells you about building a business: Every system you create to ensure success becomes a constraint on your freedom. Every process you implement to scale becomes a box you must operate within. The very competence that got you here becomes the cage that keeps you here. You wanted financial freedom, so you built a business. Now you're chained to quarterly numbers.

The way out isn't back—it's through. You can't return to the naive optimism of your startup days, but you can learn to hold responsibility without being imprisoned by it. You can learn to make decisions from vision instead of fear.

In moments of transition, chaos, uncertainty, and more, your brain essentially chooses to catastrophize something that doesn't exist rather than explore the opportunity of potential. To say that more clearly: In moments of progress, your brain chooses to focus on problems instead of potential... Let that sink in.

The Default Mode Network gets activated when you are met with new information that looks similar to a past problem, especially one that might have been scary, chaotic, or you didn't have the resources or tools to manage. Your DMN will activate when new information correlates with past experiences of your inability to cope. And once the DMN kicks on? It will repeatedly practice the problem and pattern from the past; it does not look for solutions.

The simplest thing, the most available thing, is just recognize the pattern. "I'm just reidentifying the same problem or pattern." When you recognize the pattern, you switch off the DMN. At least for that instant. The next thing is to ask yourself questions. The antidote of overthinking is to direct your focus and start answering questions.

Yeah, but I didn't go all the way" was going to fit way easier into her story of herself than "I did it" would. As the team splinters to achieve a further objective, one riddled with complexity she doesn't have the skills for, they tear off—and with them, the victory she allows them to take. As if their forward movement makes her accomplishment insignificant.

Her story is not at all uncommon. It is the story of mimetic suffering—and it's present in all of us. It's too common for people like us to achieve objectives we set out to do, only to be met with self-imposed realization that we could—or worse, should—be able to do more. If suffering is wanting that which is otherwise, few things sound more like suffering than denying yourself celebration of achievement simply because someone else has done more.

False summits are par for the course. However, impossible summits are a choice, and one that serves no champion except perpetuating self-doubt. Success is a two-part equation: one part personal victory, one part social celebration. The difference between those who succeed and those who struggle? They relish their summits; they don't get caught up in others'.

Vitality no doubt includes length of life and lack of disease, but it's also a measure of how accessible your life is. For example, a long but sick life is not ideal, in the same way a long, sickness-free, but busy life is not either. Most of us are so busy working we forget about living. So what we're after is a long life, free of disease, with freedom. That's Vitality.

When most people land on my calendar, they have checked the boxes. They have built the career, scaled the business, bought the house(s)—but most are after more meaning. What most arrive saying without saying is "I got so busy making a living, I forgot about living." This requires one important first step: Defining Vitality. Because until we define Vitality, we cannot evaluate and quantify the degree to which you are pursuing it and achieving it.

The Vitality Formula: Health Span + Life Span × Freedom. Freedom means five things: Time, Money, Purpose, Relationship, and Fitness. The degree to which you are free in each category is a direct measure of your ability to respond. I don't care whether you say yes when a friend calls with a dumb idea. I care that you can say yes to whatever calls.

In 2001, neurologist Marcus Raichle made a discovery that revolutionized our understanding of the human brain. He found that when people weren't actively engaged in focused tasks, their brains didn't simply quiet down—they activated an entirely different network of regions called the "default mode network" (DMN). Here's what makes this discovery so crucial: The DMN isn't just "background noise"—it's where your brain goes to practice problems, not solve them.

When your executive's brain is exhausted from constant decision-making, it shifts into DMN mode. This network becomes active when we think about others, ourselves, remembering the past or planning for the future—exactly the kind of rumination that feels productive but actually depletes performance further. Your brain thinks it's being productive by analyzing past failures and future threats, but it's actually practicing the very patterns that prevent clear thinking.

The solution isn't to eliminate DMN activity—it's to restore the natural balance between directed attention and healthy default mode processing. Natural environments restore directed attention capacity while simultaneously quieting the DMN's rumination patterns.

She is what I would call high-functioning asymmetrical: in that she is highly successful at creating and completing things and ideas, yet ultimately terrible as it applies to those things having any benefit on her overall life. Her actions are asymmetrical as they apply to her intention in life. What makes her rare is not this behavior, which is all too common. What makes her rare is her awareness.

The collective societal ideal, especially perpetuated by social media, is one of grinding. There's a belief that if you trade your time, your life, your energy, for success, the backside will reward you. But as a species, we tend to overestimate what we can accomplish and underestimate its costs.

There is a separate way, one in which balance is attainable. One where you can work incredibly hard and purposefully on something while also building your quality of life rather than trading it. She became twice as productive and half as busy. A win in any book. This is a paradigm shift, and it's the magic of a life well-lived.

Three years in, 5, maybe 10, or just on repeat. At some point—especially in business, but also in life—you find yourself in a situation with a familiar feeling: "We've been here before." Perhaps the bottom of a boom-and-bust cycle in revenue. Team turnover. Turmoil at home. Plateau in profession. It often looks and feels a lot like repeating a level in a video game.

"Why would I sabotage myself?" You're probably thinking. You wouldn't. Not consciously, not maliciously. But that's not why we do it. We sabotage in an effort to replicate what we know—even if it's negative. Our subconscious only operates on familiarity. Constants. It does not like unknowns, because it doesn't know how to keep you safe in them. So yes, to the subconscious, recreating a pattern of known negative circumstances is favorable to the unknown of positive ones.

The truth is, life happens because of our creation. Change how you see the world, and the world around you changes. You're the hero in this story. You just have to realize you've also played the villain all this time.

Naval Ravikant says it best: "Desire is a contract you make with yourself to be unhappy until you get what you want." This is often relegated to the notion of material possession or the grind culture. However, it's far more insidious. In Buddhism, they might say it even better: "Suffering is wanting that which is otherwise."

For many of us, our desires are a metaphorical mashing of the gas pedal when we find ourselves losing grip. Sometimes this might be the answer, but if you have ever actually been stuck in a vehicle, you know that mashing that pedal is a death sentence. Getting out and assessing the situation is likely a better option. Getting out is accepting: "OK, I'm stuck. How best can I attempt to move forward?"

Suffering is a choice. Because desire is a choice. Because who you are becoming is a choice. The real gift of acceptance isn't lazy complacency—it's tactical assessment. Is what I desire in line with who I want to be and where I want to go? Or is it just something I'm trying to escape?

When I speak of freedom, people often imagine limitless lack of responsibility. However, true freedom looks a lot more like this: Intentionality of Responsibility. The ability to be there for the person who was always there for you. Not exactly limitless mai-tais on the beach, but a reality I hope for all of you.

The truth is that time is made now, in today's actions. Each day we have a choice: react to the events of yesterday and today, or create with intention for tomorrow. Most live in the former. From the moment their feet touch the floor in the morning to the time their head hits the pillow at night, each moment filled with response.

I was the constant in all of my problems. An obvious truth—but one we all work so hard to ignore by layering on complexity. I realized it was me all along, not all the things I was reacting to. Which was good news, because that meant I could change things. You can't change the world around you. But you can change the way you meet that world in each moment. Freedom is simply the ability to create the life you want rather than trade your life for what you don't want.

As I run through the woods and the miles tally, I'm aware I've gone much farther than the average person would. And yet simultaneously not even close to what's truly possible for the gifted human. I'm not trying to set records. I'm just interested in maximizing my life. Getting the most from it.

Most people will never find themselves out here, miles from the comforts of home, feet aching and brow dampened. Not because they can't. But because they replaced "what if" with "why I can't." Human potential and life well lived might be as attainable and simple as this singular question. The average person tends to put knowing in the way of growing. They make assumptions before applying effort.

So many lives get put on pause not because they die, but because they start to stop living. They replace "could" with "should." "Can" with "can't." And "potential" with "impossible." Life's not about knowing. It's about learning. For most people, the forest stands as foreboding as a prison wall. For the lucky few, they learn that the wall they see was meant to keep them in, not out.

Naval says it best: "Desire is a contract we make to be unhappy until you get what you want." This is often relegated to the notion of material possession or the grind culture. However, it's far more insidious. In Buddhism, they might say it even better: "Suffering is wanting that which is otherwise."

For many of us, our desires are a metaphorical mashing of the gas pedal when we find ourselves losing momentum. Sometimes this might be the answer, but if you have ever actually been stuck in a vehicle, you know that mashing that pedal is a death sentence. Getting out and assessing the situation is likely a better option. Getting out is accepting: "OK, I'm stuck, how best can I attempt to move forward?"

Suffering is a choice. Because desire is a choice. Because who you are becoming is a choice. The real gift of acceptance isn't lazy complacency—it's tactical assessment. Is what I desire in line with who I want to be, and where I want to go, or is it just something I want, something I'm trying to escape?

My monkey mind — like yours, I suspect, if you're reading this — caters to the notion of big wins and grand slams. The entrepreneur's agency is both gift and curse: through it, we've learned our will can be forced upon the world for the better; a powerful drug. But like any drug, without checks, addiction follows.

After thousands of hours working with busy entrepreneurs, I noticed a pattern: No one lacked action or ideas — quite the opposite. Every client I worked with was in a situation they wanted to change, certain they hadn't cracked a code, mastered a skill, or found an answer. But with every single one, upon deeper examination, it was never about what they were missing — but rather what they needed to put down.

Most choices in most lives, most of the time, are distractions. Actions taken in response or reaction to a stimulus. The distraction dumpster overflows with certainty. The traction can brims with curiosity, replenished by "what ifs" and "why nots." It's not about eradicating distraction. It's about setting and protecting time to fill the traction can.

Here I am, holding the late-payment form, potentially negating all that hard work and negotiation—and worse, leaving me to remember that I might just be full of my own crap. Who can celebrate structure and responsibility while simultaneously forgetting to pay a simple fine they worked so hard for? This guy, that's who, and I can because I am human.

I thrive in chaos. For as long as I can remember, my life has been chaotic, but despite that chaos, I have managed to beat most of the odds. You see, I didn't succeed in spite of my odds; I succeeded because of those odds. My subconscious, like yours, does not look for opportunity—it looks for familiarity and consistency. But when things are good? Cue wild behavior. "Good" is unfamiliar; an unknown opportunity state. My default-mode network prefers entropy so it can be efficient. I, like many of my clients, will nuke good times to create chaos because to my supercomputer, my subconscious, my chances of survival are better in chaos than they are in nirvana.

The quality of your life is a simple equation: Fitness multiplied by freedom equals vitality. As I move silently through the dark at 3:13am, I'm well aware of the lunacy—I'm about to do something unnecessary to distract myself from something unnecessary, while eliminating what is necessary: rest. This cycle is almost guaranteed to repeat because of fatigue, and it makes me just like so many entrepreneurs I work with.

What might be different though, is that I am aware of the equation. When designing a life of high quality, fitness cannot be overlooked. It's not a negotiable you'll get to if you have time—it's the necessity you engage to ensure you end up with time. Everything in life takes your time; there are few things that give you back time—fitness is one of them. And true freedom isn't escape from responsibility, but rather the intentionality of response-ability: your ability to choose how you respond to the world around you.

The Default Mode Network (DMN) operates as a neurological anchor, constantly pulling you back toward familiar territory. When you attempt to adopt new behaviors or mindsets, your brain literally fights back, triggering discomfort that drives you to return to known patterns. This explains why, despite your best intentions, you often revert to old habits—it's not a lack of willpower, it's neurobiology working as designed.

The breakthrough comes from understanding that you must become before you believe. Rather than waiting until you "feel like" the person you want to be, you must act as that person first. This counterintuitive approach aligns with neuroplasticity research showing that the brain doesn't change through thinking alone—it changes through doing. By creating pattern interruptions, implementing specific action plans, and collecting evidence of your new identity through consistent actions, you can override your DMN and establish a new baseline for who you are.

Excerpt: Multitasking is not a gift. It's not a talent. It is purely the act of being distracted. Rather than being focused in your effort and attention, you're doing a little bit of a lot of things, and that's never going to work as well as intentional action.

What got you here won't get you there, and that will be true throughout life. Looking to the past for answers won't solve your future goals—we must look forward. To do this effectively, we have to leave behind the belief that you're going to do it alone, and that you're going to do it by multitasking. Instead, we must drill down on key tasks and apply all your focus to them.