One of the greatest and most unexpected lessons of my life came when I spent eight months in jail. I had been dealing drugs. I’d been caught in addiction for over three years. And jail, in so many ways, became an unlikely gift. It gave me a complete reset–a forced pause.
By the time I left I was, in some ways, “institutionalized”—not in the hopeless, broken sense, but in the way that I had found peace in the simplicity. I had a routine. I worked out. I drew. I had a job. I played cards and wrote letters to fellow inmates. It was quiet. And for the first time in maybe my entire life, I had felt grounded.
When I got out, I hit the ground running. I was clean. I rebuilt fast and by every social measure I was a success: I had impact. I was respected in my community. I had a good job and income and was using my freedom to create stability. I felt empowered to make a difference.
But my inner world?
Still chaotic.
I was anxious and constantly stressed trying to be everything to everyone—proving, again and again, that I was no longer THAT version of me: The addict. The criminal. The bad one. And here’s the wildest part: In my most overwhelmed moments, I would miss jail. I’d feel that longing and think to myself, “What the hell is THIS? I don’t want to go back there.” But as I sat with it I realized it wasn’t about the prison walls. It was about the presence I had found inside them.
I realized that when I had been in jail, life had slowed down enough that I could feel again.
I could recognize what truly brought me peace. I could wring gratitude from one of the driest, most infertile places on Earth and that, strangely, felt more freeing than the 40+ hour work weeks, endless meetings, and packed social calendar I’d made my lifestyle.
Because here’s the truth: Happiness doesn’t come from being everything to everyone.
It comes from an absence of regret over the past and the release of any anxieties held about the future. It comes from presence. It IS, I would argue, presence itself. And so the journey I’ve been on for the last 6, 7, 8 years—personally and professionally—is about reclaiming THAT: grounded, clear, uncluttered presence.
But presence doesn’t mean limitation. Mental freedom isn’t about playing small. It means thinking big, but being clear. It means wanting to help others, but knowing who you’re here to help. It means being of service, but not scattering your energy to fit into systems and clubs that drain your soul. It means using your brilliance to build the world you came here to build–not outsourcing your mind to serve someone else’s bottom line.
This is what my coaching is all about. This is what I do. I help you break free from the mental prison that keeps you disconnected from the only true source of wisdom: the now moment.
If God is everything, everywhere, all the time…
and you are a piece of God…
then maybe your job isn’t to be everything.
Maybe your job is to help God understand what it means to be just one thing—right now.
And that one thing… is you.
