February 15, 2026
This surprised even me.
Recently, I was a guest on a podcast and said something that caught the host off guard.
I said, “I’m already here.”
Not financially retired. Not running a 10 million dollar business. Not exiting to a beach somewhere.
But here.
Content with the direction. Grounded in what I’m building.
I also said I lead alongside my team. I still build. I still ship. I’m inside the work.
She didn’t love that.
In many coaching circles, that is a red flag. Leaders are supposed to ascend out of the business. Goals are supposed to get bigger. Revenue targets are supposed to stretch further every year.
But context matters.
And the context most people don’t see is the full arc.
The Arc Most People Don’t See
Over 30+ years of building businesses, I’ve scaled more than once.
I built insurance agencies.
I built a contracting business.
I scaled teams.
I carried payroll.
I chased expansion.
I tried scaling an internet business with memberships and partnerships. It was successful in many ways and sustained itself for a season, but it never reached the level we had envisioned.
Even earlier, with art in my 20s, I went all in. I sacrificed stability. I structured my life around the pursuit. Eventually I had to retool and step away from the way I was approaching it.
I have taken swings.
I won’t look back at 80 and wonder if I played it too safe. I didn’t. I took the swings. I stretched the business. I chased the bigger vision. I know what that road feels like.
And about a year ago, I took another swing. Something that was meant to push us toward a larger, more audacious goal. It was aligned with what we were built to do and had worked hard to deliver. Bigger revenue. Bigger growth. Bigger upside.
It didn’t just underperform.
It blew up in our faces—misaligned contracts, poor communication, mismatched expectations, operational strain, and real cash flow pressure.
Financially. Operationally. Emotionally.
And when something like that happens, you get very clear very quickly.
You can double down and chase harder.
Or you can step back and ask a different question.
Not “How big can this get?”
But “What am I actually trying to build?”
The Cost of Elasticity
Ambition is exciting.
Elasticity is exhausting.
When you scale, you stretch. When you stretch, you carry weight. When you carry weight, you absorb risk. When something shifts, you contract.
Expand. Contract. Rebuild. Repeat.
There is nothing wrong with that cycle. It builds skill. It builds resilience. It builds perspective.
But there is a cost.
And after you have lived inside that cycle long enough, you begin to understand something most growth narratives ignore.
Bigger is not automatically better.
Sustainable is better.
Predictable is better.
Aligned is better.
Stabilizing Is Not Settling
Right now, my goal is not building a 10 million dollar business. It was for a season. But not anymore.
My goal is:
- Strengthen the balance sheet and eliminate lingering short-term obligations
- Keep revenue steady and predictable
- Stay lean
- Avoid unnecessary expansion
- Lead inside the business because I enjoy the craft
- Be present
- Golf on Sundays
- Travel with my wife
- Reclaim art as an important part of my life
That is not a retreat.
That is alignment.
I have already proven I can take risk. I have already proven I can scale. I have already proven I can stretch myself beyond comfort.
Now I am proving something different.
That I can build peace.
Leading From Inside
There is a narrative that says leaders must eventually remove themselves from the work.
Maybe that is true for some.
But I like building. I like solving. I like being close to the craft. I like shipping real work.
Right now, that is aligned with who I am.
Could that change in the future? Possibly.
But leadership is not a template. It is a function of season.
And in this season, stabilizing while staying close to the work feels right.
Redefining Enough
There comes a point where you stop chasing a scoreboard.
You stop modeling your business after louder people.
You stop setting goals because they sound impressive.
You start asking a quieter question.
What would comfortable look like?
Not lazy.
Not stagnant.
Comfortable.
For me, it looks like stability. Margin. Space. A life where success is measured in sustainability rather than optics.
This is not anti growth.
It is post hype.
If you are early in your career, take the swings. Learn. Stretch. Build your edges.
But if you have already taken those swings, it is okay to recalibrate.
It is okay to design for durability instead of drama.
It’s okay to have been there and done that. There is maturity in settling into what fits. I’m building around what I genuinely love: web design, development, art, hiking, golf, and more time with my wife, friends, and family. I know who I am now. And I get to build a life that reflects it.
I’m not scaling right now.
I’m stabilizing.
And that decision is deliberate.
And for the first time in a long time, that feels like progress.
- I’m Not Scaling. I’m Stabilizing. - February 15, 2026
- Learning Without Shortcuts: What a Self-Taught Art Path Taught Me About Building Anything TODAY - January 24, 2026
- Remembering to Move Forward - January 3, 2026