As the door clicked shut, I was swallowed by darkness.

Not the kind where your eyes adjust and you start making out shapes—this was total, inescapable blackness.

I waved my hand in front of my face. Nothing. No light. No movement. Just… nothing.

The silence was just as brutal. No hum of electronics. No distant voices. No distractions.

Just me and my own mind—arguably the worst roommate I’ve ever had.

At first, I hated it.

I felt trapped—not by the room, but by myself. By the endless chatter in my mind that I usually drown out with work, family, or mindless doom-scrolling.

I paid good money for this.

This was my third darkness retreat. Yes, third. Meaning I have voluntarily locked myself in a pitch-black room, alone, on multiple occasions, with no light, no noise, and no one to talk to except my own inner monologue, which—let’s be honest—is about as kind as a 90s high school bully.

Most people call this torture. I call it personal growth. Tomato, tomahto.

At first, my mind did what it always does—filled the silence with everything but clarity. Useless thoughts. Random memories. An urgent need to reorganize my entire business strategy.

But in the darkness, there’s nowhere to hide.

And then, out of the chaos, a single question hit me:

What season of life am I in?

Not a casual, “Hey, what’s up with my life?” kind of thought. No.

This question rose from my gut like it had been waiting for this exact moment.

I started thinking about everything—my marriage, my daughters, my work, my health—and it hit me like a freight train: I hadn’t been fully present in any of it.

I’d been bullshitting myself. And here, in the pitch-black silence, my self-deception lit up like a neon sign.

On paper, my life looked solid.

I was growing, evolving—hell, even maturing (or so I liked to tell myself).

But the darkness doesn’t care about your bank balance or the little stories you use to justify half-assing your life.

It holds up a mirror. And what I saw? It wasn’t pretty.

I had been showing up as just enough.

• Just present enough as a husband.
• Just engaged enough as a dad.
• Just focused enough in my business to say I was growing.

And in that silence, my own bullshit became impossible to ignore.

So I sat with it.

I stopped running.

And I asked myself, not just what season am I in? but how am I actually showing up in it?

Distinct chapters that demand different versions of you. And the more you resist that truth, the more exhausted and out of sync you feel.

I started thinking about this season of my life.

I’ve got four daughters, all at these fleeting, irreplaceable stages of childhood.

I’ve got a marriage that’s shifting from the “we’re keeping small humans alive” phase to “we actually need to nurture this thing” phase.

I’m building a business—not just for financial gain but for freedom and impact.

And I’m trying—really trying—to be the man who actually lives balance and presence, not just the guy who talks about it.

The problem?

For the longest time, I had been trying to do everything.

• Be the best dad.
• The best husband.
• Scale my business to insane levels.
• Have the body of a Greek statue.
• Meditate like a monk.

…All at once.

And you know what that makes you?

Exhausted.

Trying to do it all isn’t heroic—it’s stupid.

And in the silence, I finally admitted: I can’t do everything. And that’s okay.

What matters is recognizing the season I’m in and honoring it. Not fighting it. Not wishing I was in a different chapter.

This season isn’t about saying “yes” to everything—it’s about saying “yes” to the right things.

Knock, knock.

That was my cue—time to rejoin the world.

As I stepped out of the retreat, the sunlight hit me like a slap to the face.

After days in complete silence and darkness, the world felt too bright, too loud, too much.

But instead of rushing back into the noise, I sat down with my journal, still raw from everything the retreat had surfaced.

The questions that had haunted me in the darkness—the ones that refused to let go—were now demanding to be answered.

And for once, I didn’t sugarcoat or spin it. I just wrote.

No one gave me these questions when I needed them most. 

Back when I was blindly grinding, chasing goals I thought mattered, I didn’t have this framework to guide me. 

I wish I’d stopped long enough to ask myself the deeper questions earlier—it would’ve saved me endless pain, wasted time, and money thrown at things that didn’t truly align with what I value most.

That’s why I’m sharing these questions and the answers I uncovered. 

Here are the questions I journaled as soon as I walked out of that retreat. 

I share them with the hope that they bring you clarity, alignment, and a deeper connection to what truly matters in your life.

What do I want my life to stand for?

I want my life to stand for excellence in how myself as a man showed up in integrity, was who I am, created great value for the world, and was amazing to be around as I am loving, generous and fully present.

How do I define success in this season of life? (Not 10 years ago, not 10 years from now—right now.)

Success is living with excellence and integrity, thriving in marriage, fatherhood, financial freedom, personal growth, and health, while embodying peace, presence, and the strength to be the man I admire.

What legacy do I want to leave for my wife, my daughters, and myself?

My legacy is an unseen ripple, inspiring others to embrace their true selves, live with excellence, integrity, and joy, and fully savor the profound beauty of life in all its dimensions.

When I’m 80 years old, sitting with Lauren and reflecting back on my life, what will I be most proud of in this season?

That I created full spectrum of success, that is, living with excellence and integrity, thriving in marriage, fatherhood, financial freedom, personal growth, and health, while embodying peace, presence, and the strength to be the man I admire.

What does a stronger, more connected marriage with Lauren look like?

A stronger, more connected marriage with Lauren looks like us deeply enjoying each other’s company, sharing laughter, love, and meaningful conversations daily. It’s feeling like an unshakable team, where she knows she’s cherished, supported, and safe in every way. It’s creating moments of intimacy, adventure, and trust, while growing together emotionally, spiritually, and as partners. It’s me showing up as the best version of myself, fully present and grounded, making her feel truly seen, heard, and loved every single day.

What habits or time investments will bring us closer? 

The habits and time investments that will bring Lauren and me closer are prioritizing intentional, undistracted quality time together—like weekly date nights where we can connect deeply without interruptions. It’s starting and ending each day with small, meaningful moments, like sharing thoughts over coffee in the morning or reflecting on our day together before bed. It’s being fully present in conversations, really listening, and making her feel valued and understood. It’s showing love daily in simple ways—affection, thoughtful gestures, and words of appreciation that remind her how much she means to me. Most importantly, it’s investing time to dream together, to align on what we want for our life, and to continuously grow as partners.

What do my daughters need most from me at their ages (3, 5, 8, 11)?

At their ages—3, 5, 8, and 11—what my daughters need most from me is my unwavering presence, love, and guidance. They need to know, without question, that I am here for them, fully engaged in their lives.

For my 3-year-old, she needs playfulness, patience, and reassurance—a dad who gets on her level, laughs with her, and helps her feel safe and adored.

For my 5-year-old, she needs encouragement, curiosity, and fun. She’s exploring her world, and I want to nurture her confidence, creativity, and sense of wonder by being her cheerleader and adventure buddy.

For my 8-year-old, she needs me to listen, guide, and help her make sense of her emotions. She’s starting to form her identity, and I want to be the steady hand she can hold onto as she grows in confidence, kindness, and courage.

For my 11-year-old, she needs my trust, my wisdom, and my example. She’s stepping into independence, and I want to create a safe space where she feels comfortable talking to me about anything, while also seeing how a strong, kind, and loving man leads his life.

What they all need most is a dad who shows up—who makes time for laughter, connection, and heart-to-heart moments, and who leads by example with love, integrity, and strength.

How do I lead and show up for them in a way they’ll remember forever?

I’ll show up for my daughters in a way they’ll remember forever by being fully present, deeply loving, and leading by example. Through my actions, I’ll teach them integrity, kindness, and strength. I’ll create meaningful memories, show them they’re unconditionally loved, and inspire them to live with purpose and joy.

What would their future selves thank me for?

Their future selves would thank me for being present, loving them unconditionally, and showing them how to live with integrity, strength, and joy. They’d thank me for believing in them, creating lasting memories, and always showing up as the dad they could trust and admire.

What does financial freedom look like for me?

Financial Freedom is having passive income bring in 150% of our lifestyle expenses (with no debt)

This equals $20k/mo

What am I willing to sacrifice to make it happen, and what am I not willing to sacrifice?

What I’m not willing to sacrifice is my family, my health, my peace of mind, or the joy of the journey. I won’t trade the time and connection with Lauren and my daughters, or compromise the man I strive to be, for any amount of success.

What I am willing to sacrifice are;

Comfort: I’m willing to embrace discomfort, challenges, and the hard work it takes to grow.

Distractions: Social media, mindless scrolling, or any habits that don’t serve my purpose.

Low-priority tasks: Cutting out anything that doesn’t move the needle or align with my highest goals.

What am I not focusing on in this season? (Saying “no” is as important as saying “yes.”)

Chasing unnecessary distractions. Perfectionism. Superficial networking. Overloading my to-do list. Overextending professionally. Immediate gratification.

How do I make peace with the fact that I can’t do everything at once, and that’s okay?

I make peace with the fact that I can’t do everything at once by reminding myself that life has seasons, and each one has its own priorities and purpose. Right now, my focus is on building the foundations—financial freedom, a strong marriage, deep connection with my daughters, and growing my personal brand. I trust that by giving my best to what matters most in this season, the rest will unfold in its perfect time.

What is the unique opportunity of this season?

Daughters: Cherishing quality time with my daughters at this unique stage in their lives, where they still deeply want my presence. This time is precious, shaping who they will become as women, and giving me the opportunity to guide, support, and love them in ways that will leave a lasting imprint on their hearts.

Marriage: As Lauren and I move out of the “baby” season of parenting, we have the chance to rediscover each other as the new, evolved people we’ve become. With the freedom we’ve created, we now have more time and space to deepen our connection and build upon the foundation of love and partnership that will carry us through the rest of our lives together.

Professional: At 37, I’m in a prime season of my career—young, skilled, and experienced. With decades ahead of me, I recognize the power of small, consistent actions compounded daily, weekly, and monthly. This steady growth paves the way for tremendous success, abundance, and the legacy I want to leave behind.

Looking back at my answers, there’s one thing I know for sure—clarity is a gift.

But it’s not the kind you stumble upon.

It’s the kind you earn—by sitting with the hard questions, stripping away the noise, and facing yourself honestly.

And once you have that clarity, everything shifts.

It’s not about doing more.

It’s about doing what actually matters.

It’s about honoring the season you’re in, instead of fighting it or trying to live in five seasons at once.

So here’s my challenge to you:

Get clear on what this season is about for you.

Focus on what matters, and let the rest go.

And if, like me, you stumble, face-plant, and figure it out as you go—welcome to the club.

We’re all winging it, but at least now, we’re winging it with intention.