2025: A Year of Landing

humbling, grounding, returning

I haven’t written in a while.

This year was a tough year for me. A beautiful, transformative year with many rich memories, but a tough year nonetheless.

At the start of the year, work was coaching and writing - with zero thought of getting a job. A lot has happened since. I’ve transitioned my coaching practice to part-time and as for writing… as you can tell from my lack of publishing, it’s been tough to prioritize it.

But life has felt really full the past couple months - in a good way.

The big news is that after nearly three years since leaving my last full-time role, I started a new job!

In mid-October, I joined an early stage startup as head of product. My definition of work has shifted once again. My daily life looks radically different, but it’s been a surprisingly easeful return.

Below, I want to relive this year and capture the essence of each month, but I think the contrast of the two bookends captures it well:

I started this year skiing in Salt Lake City, freely weaving together days on the mountain with coaching and writing.

I’m ending this year in Palo Alto, with my first stable apartment in six years, and I have a full-time job again - my first “real” job in nearly three years.

These two major changes, both personal and professional, proved to require more energy and more time to adjust to, but ultimately, for the better. I’m entering 2026 with the most stability I’ve had in recent memory, and with that, I’m moving towards fewer, focused commitments and deeper intentions.

Let’s see how 2025 went…

January

January 1st: I started off the year by staying in the most absurd Airbnb in Salt Lake City with my friend Niles. We enjoyed some nice meals together like hot pot at-home, but what made the experience bizarre was the fact that the owner allowed her three little dogs to dominate the only bathroom on the second floor. I don’t mean they used the toilet - the little creatures would poop on disposable mats laid on the floor.

Later in the stay, I came across a startling discovery: inside the garage were a couple large cardboard boxes shipped from overseas. Within these boxes were hundreds, if not thousands of vape cartridges. Our objective was to remember some amazing days on the ski mountain, but we left with some additional memories.

That was just the first week. Then we moved into our monthlong Ski Haus where things mellowed out a bit. I lived with Brandon, Niles, Andrew, and April, along with nearly a dozen various friends that came in and out throughout the month. I enjoyed the skiing, but also all the accessory activities like Monopoly Deal, the local gym, group dinners, and rolling to hot yoga as a crew. We even saw a Sundance film where we got to meet the lead actors and director!

I also made a visit out to NYC to see my girlfriend. I remember jogging down the frigid Hudson River Greenway in beanies with steaming breath and an amazing meal at the Thai restaurant Soothr. But what stands out about this trip is the choice itself. With just a modest income and the tradeoff of losing a few days of skiing, I chose to go on this quick trip. In the past, I optimized for freedom and tried to maximize ski days. Now, spending money in an almost frivolous way and sacrificing powder days for a long weekend together felt worth it.

Spotted at JFK airport, on the way back to SLC - January 21st

February

So much happened in February, starting with the 3rd.

At 6am PT, still lying in bed with the dark sky outside, my girlfriend found out she matched for residency at Stanford. It was her news, but it would reshape both our lives.

I had the brilliant idea to celebrate at BJs. From watching fitness influencers demolish the pizookie on cheat days, I thought it was a nice restaurant (spoiler alert: it’s like Applebee’s, but maybe worse).

Then we headed to the airport for a midnight flight to Beijing. It was my first time back in China since 2019.

I headed to Zhangjiakou to visit my dad’s side of the family. It’s the rugged city near Beijing that hosted all the winter olympics events that required mountainous terrain. For four nights in a row, we’d gather at a large table with the spinning glass turntable and feast on a dozen dishes at once. I tell people my top three cuisines are Thai, Mexican, and Korean, but the exception is Chinese food in China, which takes the top spot. Seeing my cousins’ kids grow six years worth made the six year gap feel quite real. Some went from baby to kid who now speaks better Chinese than me.

I spent a few days in Beijing as an autonomous tourist for the first time. Previously, I’d go with family or some summer program, but I could now book my own DiDi (Uber of China) and pay for things using WeChat or AliPay.

Next, I flew to Hokkaido, Japan’s northernmost island for a weeklong ski trip with nine others. The US already has world-class skiing, but there’s always been an allure to Japow, the deep, light snow that Japan gets from cold Siberian winds and low-moisture snow crystals. Somedays, I’d wake up at 5am for a coaching session before skiing all day and unwinding in the almost-scalding water of the onsen. We could’ve gotten luckier with the weather, but we had one amazing day with not a cloud in sight and at least ten inches overnight.

I reunited with my girlfriend and traveled from Tokyo to Hakone to Kyoto. At a Michelin star restaurant, I ate a macaron that looked chocolate-flavored, but it was actually deer blood. In Hakone, we stayed in a ryokan, and enjoyed kaiseki-style dinners while wearing kimonos. Being near Lake Ashi with Mt. Fuji in sight helped me slow down from continuing my otherwise default mode of fast-paced travel. In Kyoto, after along the Kamo River in the rain, my breakfast consisted of a warm pork bun, protein shake, and three large carrots from 7-11.

In February, I also decided to leave Downshift. It was unexpected, but came with clarity that it was time to move on. Although I had so much development remaining, I felt confident in my ability to coach, and that’s what allowed me to take the next step forward, despite looming clouds of uncertainty for how the rest of the year wsould unfold.

March

I came back from Japan and had time for one last ski trip.

My friend and former roommate Jacky flew in from Vancouver and we headed to Tahoe just in time for a huge storm. We stayed in the brand new Evo hotel and in the morning, they gave us free pastries only for us to end up standing in the KT-22 lift line for five hours. Skiing after a major dump is high risk, high reward. You can either enter mind-warping flow states from gliding through fresh snow or you can wait in line with dozens of other ravenous powder enthusiasts. All that sugar for nothing.

After the final taste of winter, I hesitantly headed back east for what might have been my last time actually living in New York City.

Central Park during my morning walk - March 26th

April

Being back in the metropolis that runs on coffee and money accelerated my already brewing hunch that I needed to reassess my approach to making enough income. By this point, it had been nine months since I started my coaching practice, which I started out of seeking fulfillment, with making money being secondary. It was time to take a close look in the mirror and be brutally honest with myself.

Do I go all-in on coaching and make it work financially, or is there another path for me?

Even though I was aware of all the business tactics I could’ve employed around marketing myself better, it just didn’t feel aligned to try and push my way through. It was weird to question my own intuition - like what if this was sports practice where I just have to keep running enough suicides and shoot enough free throws to make it to the next level. Persistence, discipline, and grit are all important, but here they didn’t feel entirely relevant.

I stumbled into coaching, and while I certainly fantasized about it supporting me financially, my actions didn’t reflect someone who was hellbent on creating a thriving, independent business. I wasn’t aggressively marketing myself or reaching out to people who I could see myself coaching. In hindsight, I was pursuing a passion. A passion that I was taking seriously and love doing, but without the commitment and determination for it to be my job. Accepting this lagged behind and took some time for me to see clearly.

I started to think about what I’d do to make a stable, healthy income again and I became excited about joining one of the several mental health tech startups out there. It made sense to me - I wanted to combine all my skills and interests in tech, coaching, and somatic therapy to help more people. I interviewed for a role that I thought I’d be a perfect fit for, and didn’t even make it past the recruiter screen. In the past, this person would be cold emailing me to join, and now I couldn’t even get past the first round. What made it sting even more was that through connections at the company, I knew who the hiring manager was. It was a former climate founder who once asked to chat with me, back when I wrote deep dives on climate tech. I bookmarked this as evidence for how much I value reciprocity.

Later in the month, I had breakfast for the second time with Tom Morgan who asked me if I’ve ever considered starting my own community. Some time later, a new friend I had just met asked me the exact same question. (This is relevant for later.)

I started training for the 1,000 pound club. The first step was repeating the process of finding a gym, something that I had become unusually good at from all my past sublet stints.

Sunset Park - April 6th

May

I went back home to the Bay and spent a whole day touring apartments in Palo Alto, which made the impending move all the more real. From 10am to 4pm, I had back-to-back apartment showing every 30 minutes. At each place, I would record a video walking around and then immediately after I left, I would send the video and a voice note describing my thoughts to my girlfriend who was still on the east coast. After all the showings, my top two were a tiny house wedged between two $10 million homes in the wealthiest part of Palo Alto and a humble apartment complex that had fresh air flowing between buildings and a park right next to it. We ended up at the latter.

I drove up to Mendocino for a retreat with a conscious entrepreneurship community I belong to. Many people were more successful than me on a professional level, and also further along their spiritual paths than me. I hadn’t seen firsthand the material and spiritual worlds interweave with each other, so this expanded what I thought was possible in a refreshing way.

Life sped up again.

I asked Claude how to adjust my strength training schedule if I wanted to hit the 1,000 pound club even earlier than already aggressive target.

A couple weeks later I hit my goal. It was satisfying to accomplish, but felt more like a checkbox that had been crossed off. The process itself of increasing the weight and getting stronger week after week was far more enjoyable than that final day of maxing out. Setting the goal itself was necessary to coordinate my willpower to focus on a singular objective, but it was actually the cliché journey that mattered more.

I flew back to NYC for my girlfriend’s graduation from medical school. At midnight, I flew to Rome.

I stayed in a hostel before my girlfriend joined me - partly to save money, partly curious if I could still enjoy it. The hostel’s dinner ranged from zero to ten euros, depending on the dish. I joined for the first night’s “rice salad”. Pretty mid, but not bad for $0.

We roadtripped from Rome to Florence and stayed at a farmhouse midway. The host Laura prepared a simple yet extensive breakfast spread every morning that we ate outside overlooking the Tuscan hills. I get a taste of what people mean by the slower, simpler living of Europe.

While in Saint Peter’s Basilica, I experienced a great wave of awe as I stroll around. It’s rare for me to experience the sensation outside of being deeply immersed with the natural world.

Journaling in San Venanzo, Italy - May 27th

June

After Italy, I flew to Asheville for the onsite component of my Hakomi somatic therapy training. I met my teachers and fellow trainees for the first time in-person after spending hours on Zoom together. Our Airbnb had no kitchen, but the retreat center was close enough to walk to, where Dennis and I made oatmeal and eggs every morning. At that time of year, the park next to us was overflowing with greenness.

On June 20th, we moved in to our apartment in Palo Alto. The first night we slept on a mattress on the ground. It would be another couple months before our dining table and my desk could be upgraded from plastic white foldable table to something more permanent.

I made it to a final round interview for a role that genuinely excited me, but didn’t get the offer. Immediately after, I felt pangs of regret, frustration, shame, and anxiety. The next morning, I woke up and got back to work.

Lunch view during Hakomi training in Asheville - June 5th

July

My friend Parker visited, which is great timing because I’ve already bought a couch from on Facebook Marketplace, but need help retrieving it with a U-Haul.

I cycled through trial gym memberships, hesitant to sign a contract. It mirrored my inner state: I had arrived in Palo Alto, but didn’t feel settled in yet.

I joined nine other men on an intense backpacking trip in the Eastern Sierras. It was epic.

Summited Mt. Sill in the eastern Sierras - July 26th

August

We host a pool party BBQ at our place, gathering up existing friends and meeting new faces as well.

We go on a weekend trip to Tahoe with friends. We hike, kayak, spikeball, play Skull King, and devour an entire watermelon within a few hours.

I start training jiu jitsu at the gym across the street. After the first session, I walk home feeling fully alive in a way I haven’t felt in months. My shirt is drenched in sweat and feels noticeably heavier.

Kayaking in Tahoe. PC: Geo Min - August 17th

September

I realized I’ve been feeling lonely from being at home all day and pay for a library card at Stanford. I start spending more time on campus and seem to benefit from the residual youthful academic energy.

After seven rounds of interviews over the span of eight weeks, I got rejected by another company. It’s frustrating because now I have to start all over again.

I logged my learnings and vow to myself that I will somehow make the third time the charm. I begin interviewing with several companies.

I was supposed to go backpacking in Yosemite with friends, but we changed our plans after forecasts of torrential thunderstorms. Instead, we head north and camp just two miles away from the trailhead. It was far more chill than past trips and the people became more of the focus than the scenery.

During a weekend of Hakomi training, I had a powerful experience during a practice session where I’m the client. I visualized attempting to offer gifts of flowers but keep seeing an axe chop off my arms as I extend forward. It’s only when my therapist tells me that he’s also reaching forward to receive that the axe surprisingly doesn’t swing down. As the visual evolved, I also realize the mysterious axe looks cartoonish and that my arms regenerate like a gecko. I interpreted this in the context of my job search: that the axe is actually benevolent, the suffering is optional because my arms regenerate instead of bleed out, and that there will soon come a time when my offer is genuinely received.

Backpacking near Mt. Shasta - September 27th

October

It was my girlfriend’s first week off from residency, which was requested and planned months in advance. We decided to go to Hawaii, which wasn’t an easy decision because it would be smack dab during the later stages of interviewing. Our first day was also my birthday and we celebrated at Thai Temple. The next day was Mid-Autumn Festival and we celebrated with friends and mooncakes. Jackie and David got engaged recently. Ted and Yan are only in town for one night as they make their way to Asia for a seven week trip. We hung out with Tracy and Loren who also closed on their new house in Diamond Head that same day. The house itself needs a lot of work, but I get excited for them as I visualize the possibilities.

I finally got a job offer - ironically while I was vacationing. There was a huge relief and the next day I catch a fun wave on the North Shore.

I started the job and on my 7th day (Sunday), I have Hakomi training from 7am-1pm, then I hit the gym, come back and play tennis with my girlfriend for a bit, then Uber to the airport to fly to Vegas. I check in to my hotel and then have a Zoom call with my CEO to gameplan the conference. This one day symbolizes my new identity and encapsulates my new priorities.

I spent the next two days in Vegas non-stop approaching strangers and slinging B2B SaaS. It’s tiring, but surprisingly fun.

I also launched Free Agents, a community for multidimensional people seeking beyond the conventional path. The name comes from this blog post where I propose a third option of worker identity to side-step the false dichotomy of missionary vs. mercenary.

Free Agents is unfolding to be a fulfilling project where I can facilitate deeper questions and support people, but there’s also a lightness and playfulness that I see less often in communities. It also helps that most of the people that are in it started out as friends first. It’s an eclectic mix of people, ranging from skateboarder dads to surfer models to former White House Oval Office staffer.

Going into this project, I teetered between making the community more focused on transitions or to try and make it an actual source of income, but ultimately followed the question “How can I make this more fun for me?” Going this route led me to designing it lightweight (we only meet once a month) and for free.

November

November was a blur. A good blur, but also the shorter days made me feel like I had less energy.

I transitioned my coaching practice to part-time. This meant “graduating” a couple clients who I had been working with for over a year and asking others to fit into my now rigid schedule. You see, in taking this new job, I was also not willing to stop coaching. For me, coaching has become this part of me. It’s something I make money from, but that’s not the main reason why I do it. I also knew that the only way to truly be committed to the new job was to keep coaching outside of working hours. I was glad that every client was willing to accomodate my new 8-9am PST constraint.

The intensity took getting used to. Multiples times, I would have a coaching session or a customer meeting at 8am, then work for a full day, and then roll at jiu jitsu from 6-7:30pm. I’d work a bit at night and then go to bed.

I started nesting. I bought furniture and spent a few hundred bucks to print out my photography, which felt weird after years of minimalism. I had to double check with myself if these were purchases worth it to me, and they were.

We hosted Friendsgiving and made use of our dining table that I bought from a grandpa in Redwood City. It has two leaves that extend to seat up to 12. I paid him $150 and it took me two trips to haul everything home. Our neighbor Jeff had to help me carry the tabletop up. Everyone brought a yummy dish, but Geo’s Thai steak salad and Sophie’s rosemary rice crispies stood out. Robbe somehow dropped $100 on mashed potatoes and gravy at Whole Foods.

We celebrated Thanksgiving with my girlfriend’s parents who came and visited us. Our Thanksgiving dinner consisted of a dozen delicious Chinese dishes. I’m glad I didn’t have to attempt a turkey. We took a daytrip to Monterey and Carmel-by-the-Sea, stopping at a farm stand to buy pomelos, grapefruits, persimmons, and pomegranates. While eating these fruits on a picnic table by the ocean along 17-mile drive, I gazed at the waves that were crashing on shore. I realized I sort waves into too mellow, just right, or too big depending on how surf-able I think they are, no matter whether I’m there to surf or just to watch.

Thanksgiving dinner - November 27th

December

I ended the year strong. I started to find my groove at work, but am still slightly tired.

We went to Marin for a weekend getaway, but also to kick off the annual reflection. I’m used to early morning and late night drives to save money on lodging, so this staycation felt like a splurge. Not having to drive back meant that we could enjoy the sunset at Mt. Tam and avoid having to cram everything into just a day trip. We watched the newest Knives Out at the Airbnb. I am both glad that we don’t have a TV at home and that we get to watch the occasional movie when we’re traveling. It feels like a treat.

The next weekend, I flew to Denver to ski with Parker. I took the early morning flight and took the train into downtown to work. The skiing itself wasn’t that great because of the snow, but we made the most of it. We watched the half-pipe Olympic qualifiers at Copper and played board games at night. I lost in chess to the rapper Logic’s chess coach.

We find out that my girlfriend has December 24th and 26th off, creating the conditions for a possible surprise 5-day trip. It felt like a lucky gift given she only gets four weeks off a year and they have to be requested a year in advance. I check the weather in Tahoe, Utah, Colorado, Washington, and even all over Canada, in search of any signs of sufficient snow.

After factoring in flight prices around Christmas, Utah seems like the best option. As we’re driving around, skiing, and eating out, past memories re-emerge. We go to this $26 AYCE hot pot restaurant on Christmas Day and they’ve since renovated the entire place. They also raised the prices by $2. At Alta, I point to runs I’ve skied before like Alf’s High Rustler and Big Chute on Mt. Baldy. It’s the same places, but I’m experiencing it in new ways.

My 90-year old grandma was hospitalized four times over the span of two weeks so I went back home. She’s stable now, though her vitality will likely never fully return.

The last few days of the year arrive and I finally start writing again.

Sunset at Mt. Tamalpais - December 13th

Reflections

Books

This year I read 14 books. I also started, but didn’t finish another 14.

On Becoming A Person by Carl Rogers taught me the importance of being authentically myself. I started reading it to help me as a coach, but the ripple effects have applied to my writing and how I show up in my relationships.

I got back into fiction, reading The Da Vinci Code and The Three-Body Problem. I tried to get into heavier reads on spirituality and consciousness, but I wasn’t in the mood.

I ended the year with Endurance, the story of the Antarctic shipwreck where the entire 28-person crew survived for over a year before being rescued. Books like this - survival stories and dude-on-adventure narratives like Barbarian Days and Into Thin Air - capture the human condition at its most intense. They fuel something in me. I want to read more of them this year.

Reviewing 2025 Goals

I’m reviewing goals to learn about myself and get closer to my truest desires, less as a measurement for how good I am at doing things.

Make more money: I wasn’t sure how this would unfold, but I’m happy with where things are landing. I’m enjoying the job: the people, learning about AI, playing a role within a team, and the financial stability.

Create authentically: I intended to write and make videos. I didn’t make any videos and feel completely okay with that. I wrote blogs I’m proud of, like I Am Just A Dude, The Ski Haus, and Young Person Energy. More importantly, I stopped writing as a coach and started writing as a person. I stopped approaching with the pre-writing lens of how to make it sound like a coach wrote it, and instead listened more closely to what I actually wanted to write about.

Spaciousness: This goal was too vague to hit or miss. I wish I had more unscheduled mornings, but my actions reflect a tendency to maximize my days. I get overwhelmed often, but I also end up experiencing life to the fullest. This year, instead of spaciousness which is about boundaries and emptiness, I’m focused on creating more time by increasing my energy.

Depth: The big step here was enrolling in a yearlong Hakomi training. But I think about depth differently now. It doesn’t need its own goal slot. Depth comes from welcoming it in daily life, even when uncomfortable. This year I plan to work with a Hakomi therapist, less to heal something broken and more out of curiosity about the unconscious patterns I carry.

Lessons Learned in 2025

Transitions take longer than you think. The Gregorian calendar creates the false narrative that things can be compressed into one year periods. In my case, it’s been closer to three years. Four if you count the year it took to quit my job.

Let go of what is not essential. I eased off of coaching needing to provide me full-time income. Now I don’t have that pressure, and I do it out of love and fulfillment. I also see other ways to serve people without needing to call it coaching, whether through Free Agents or just being there as a friend.

Big moves take more energy than you think. I went from six years of nomadic living to putting down roots in Palo Alto. I moved in with my girlfriend, in a new location, in a new home. It took significant time and attention to feel actually settled, but once I got there, it’s been smooth sailing. It’s nice not having to find a new gym, grocery store, and apartment every month.

My core values changed.
Previously: Creation, Creativity, Health, and Curiosity.
Now: Genuineness, Health, Curiosity, and Adventure.

I removed Creation and Creativity because they’re not essential for me. I don’t have to be putting things out there all the time. There are seasons for it.

Genuineness is now my top value. Being authentic, keeping it real. It’s what has led me to pursue a constellation of seemingly unrelated projects, except they actually are related because I am the source of all of them.

Health remains because it supplies the life energy that keeps me going.

Curiosity remains too. Curiosity guides me to interesting places, even when I can’t see exactly where I’m going.

I added Adventure after rooting down this year. I used to have built-in adventure from living nomadically: Hawaii, ski towns in winter, NYC. Now that I live in Palo Alto, I need to be intentional about creating it myself. I’m aiming for at least one adventure each month, whether a day trip to surf in Santa Cruz or a two-week ski road trip to Wyoming and Utah.

I experience the world most deeply, when I am doing something adventurous - with all my senses activated. The initial imagery I get is surfing a heavy wave or skiing a steep line. But adventure isn’t exclusively about outdoor sports. The essence is being at my edge, yet with a foundation of safety. I also see the thrill in committing to ambitious goals and surrendering to what happens.

Money is necessary, but not as important as you think. My relationship with money feels healthier now. I see it more clearly: what it can provide me, and what it can’t.

I spend liberally on what I genuinely enjoy, like ski trips at the best mountains, but find creative solutions to make it affordable. In Colorado, we split a two-bedroom loft among eight people. It made for a cozy vibe. In Utah, we stayed in a shared Airbnb with the host and still got our own bedroom and bathroom.

I’m aware that lifestyle creep is a thing, and hope to get ahead of it by being content with a one-bedroom apartment for the next couple years. I’m also firmly against being a two-car household given how easy it is to bike around Palo Alto. Sometimes on weekends we bicker over who gets the car, but I’d rather practice compromising than cave into convenience.

The life I want with more money isn’t that different from the life I loved with less.

I don’t want to slow down. A common idea in personal growth is that doing less leads to being more. For the last few years, I followed this path. At some point I had a morning routine that might’ve lasted over 90 minutes. That approach no longer resonates. I see how these are all tools and practices to serve me, and that there’s no one right way to live.

I aspire to have the presence and gratitude of a Buddhist monk who smiles big after biting into an apple. But I also want full days. Radiant, dynamic. Not burnt out, but like an athlete in season, or an animal that knows when to migrate and when to rest.

The essence of my being is playful, childlike, and adventurous. I care about a lot of things and recognize the preciousness of this time in my life: I have enough wisdom to know what’s important, the resources and independence to do what I want, and the youthful energy to keep at it.

I no longer view maximizing stillness as an actual objective.

Intentions for 2026

This will be the first year in a while that I’ve had a stable job, my own place, and a partner. I’m not used to this level of groundedness, but it sure is nice. I intend to build on top of this stable foundation.

Instead of concrete goals, I aspire to embody a particular energy.

I want the next few years, the last few years of having the privilege of being child-free, to be the years that I worked the hardest.

I want to be disciplined to my craft. Somerset Maugham said, “I write only when inspiration strikes. Fortunately it strikes every morning at nine o’clock sharp.” Instead of just bite-sized blogs, I will pursue a major project of my own.

I may have returned full-circle back to a similar job, but things are fundamentally different. My perspective has changed. My whole identity isn’t in this job, yet I care more than I thought I would. Doing well and contributing in my new role made it into my top three goals for the year. I want to genuinely level up as a startup operator building at the frontier of AI. When it comes to work, across all fronts, my goal is to keep caring. Avoiding work only delays the inevitable and drains energy in the meantime.

When it comes to my health, I’m a couple pounds fatter than my best and my hips are tighter than I’d like. There’s an abundance of good food around me, but the most satisfying meals are when I’m a particular kind of hungry: after sustained effort on things I care about, whether intense physical movement or deep work on projects. In 2026, I’d like to prioritize nourishment over indulgence.

I feel older, I am older, but I still want to retain my sense of youthfulness. Going on adventures is how I’ll stay young. I’m seeking the simple, spontaneous adventures that bring out my childlike energy, which I want to preserve.

To aid me on this quest, I’ll simplify. I’m willing to tradeoff cooking proper dinners so I have more time during the week. I’ll go to the library so I accumulate less clutter. My investments are on auto-pilot. I’ll be okay with keeping up with fewer people. I’ll say no to good opportunities to preserve space for the great ones I’ve already committed to.

Last year, I followed a lot. I was waiting until February to find out where my girlfriend matched, which determined where we would live for the next six years. Then we were both waiting to move in. At times, I had to wait for something else before I could keep going. That was a practice in itself. This year, I don’t have those constraints. I can choose to do what I want more often now. It’s not purely selfish. It’s freedom. And often with the freedom, I still choose to be with others, to help others.

During our final coaching session, a client told me how much I helped him over the last year. From the Free Agents calls, I see how people feel a sense of kinship and permission to dream big. Yesterday, while standing by a bonfire on the beach, someone who reads this blog told me that my writing feels like the opposite of watching YouTube.

Even though 2025 was the year I put my full-time coaching pursuit on pause, it’s also the year I end feeling stronger and with a greater sense of purpose. I’m ready to play.