I listened to a podcast yesterday—Scott Galloway interviewing psychotherapist Esther Perel—and it hit directly on what I’ve been wrestling with lately.

Esther made a sharp observation: one of her pillars of relationship health is resisting the atrophy of skill in human connection.

Because here’s the problem:

We spend so much of our lives inside sterile technological interfaces that we’re losing our ability to handle messy, real, unpredictable relationships.

“Don’t try to join the winning team. Build it.”

That’s always been my way. I sign the checks on the front, not the back. I build, I lead, I take responsibility.

But this isn’t just about business. It’s something deeper. Something primal.

The DNA of Tribe

We may live in houses with Wi-Fi and cars that drive themselves, but inside us, the DNA of tribe still burns. Thousands of years ago, survival meant unity of purpose: move as one, protect the group, share the burden.

Inside each of us lives both a wolf and a sheep.

• The wolf is our physical, animal side: hunger, thirst, sleep, physical pleasure, the demands of the body.

  The wolf must be fed.

• The sheep is our emotional side: the need for the flock, the longing for safety, order, connection, belonging.

  The sheep must be protected.

Setbacks are the worst. Whether it’s an injury or a financial crisis, anything that knocks you off your growth curve is highly detrimental to long-term achievement.

That’s why I think strategically. I aim to engage in activities that are protective first—moves that keep me in the game no matter what’s happening around me. I plan forward as far as I can, so I have a roadmap to follow, even when life inevitably throws curveballs.

I was immediately drawn to the Tai Chi class. Twenty-something people moved in silent unison—nothing but the sound of breathing, the whisper of feet sliding across the wooden floor, the creak of the boards, the rustle of their uniforms. Soft meditative music played in the background. Windows open, a gentle breeze flowing in.

We live in a world where everyone is “busy,” but very few people are truly aligned. And that’s a problem. Because even high-functioning, organized, productive people—people who seem to have their act together—can drift off course without realizing it.

I’ve seen it again and again working with ambitious professionals: They’re running full speed… but sometimes in the wrong direction.

I’m coming to you from the parking lot of a Planet Fitness in Stamford, Connecticut. This is where I meet with several clients in the area. (Whether that’s worth mentioning is up for debate—but hey, it’s where I’m at.)

Here’s my ideal Monday. As soon as my feet hit the floor, I drop into a squat. It’s my way of loosening up my ankles, knees, and hips before I even walk to the bathroom.

Let me take you back to a moment that changed my life.

I was 20 years old, halfway through an engineering degree I wasn’t sure I wanted, and standing at a fork in the road. The “safe” path was clear: stay in school, stay on track, and don’t do anything crazy. But there was another path—uncertain, risky, uncomfortable.

In the summer of 1998, I had a chance to work in the salmon industry in Alaska.

Most people know of Scientology—but very few know what it actually feels like to walk that path.

For six years, I committed myself to it—not because I was seeking dogma, but because I was seeking something deeper: clarity, personal responsibility, and the ability to face my own mind without flinching. I went “Clear” not for a badge or belief—but to prove to myself that I could endure, evolve, and make my own informed decisions about life, spirit, and freedom.

As kids, many of us lived inside a beautiful bubble. A protective layer woven by parents, teachers, and the broader culture—built with the best of intentions. For that, I’m grateful.

But now, as a 47-year-old father, coach, and entrepreneur, I see cracks in that bubble. Not in the love or safety it provided—but in what it failed to prepare us for.

At Everest Longevity, our “Protection First” philosophy emphasizes safeguarding health and well-being as the cornerstone of a fulfilling life. Central to this approach is quality sleep, a fundamental pillar of physical protection. Adequate sleep is not merely a passive state of rest; it is an active process vital for numerous aspects of health.

At Everest Longevity, our “Protection First” philosophy emphasizes safeguarding health and well-being as the cornerstone of a fulfilling life. Central to this approach is quality sleep, a fundamental pillar of physical protection. Adequate sleep is not merely a passive state of rest; it is an active process vital for numerous aspects of health.

Longevity is a two-sided coin. To thrive and win the game of life at every stage, we must prioritize both health and financial well being. At Everest Longevity, we recognize that the best offense is a strong defense. Without health, wealth means little. Without financial security, even the healthiest individuals face uncertainty.