Hiking, hanging out, and having time to think. The excitement of seeing an elk up close. The thrill of letting the arrow fly. The rich flavor of elk meat.
These are some of the reasons why I love hunting. Time in nature and more specifically, hiking with purpose.
Sometimes time passes by, and I find myself completely present without distraction for extended periods.
This year, I am doing two hunts. And I’ve been taking pictures of the best sunrises, sunsets, rainbows, all while capturing notes to answer one important question. Enjoying the process, appreciating the moments, and acknowledging the fact I have the health and wealth to hunt.
This hunt I am armed with a bow and one simple, yet profound question.
What do I want?
Simple.
Yet critical.
In my earlier years, it may have been about the material things I now have. It may have been about developing skills and accomplishments.
And although I don’t find myself wanting more “things” to buy, I do find myself considering legacy, fulfilment, time with my family, and creating more value and having even more impact.
I ask myself again. What do you really want? Daily. Long-term.
With my wife. With my boys. With my extended family. With my friends. With my business. With my clients.
And during this hunt, I get time to consider even deeper, What do I want?
Out here, truth is simple. You get an elk, or you don’t. Close doesn’t count. Wind in your face. Sun on your neck. Stars that look close enough to pluck.
No service. No scroll. No noise, except a song that gets stuck in my head. Sometimes Kanye. Sometimes Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young’s The Lee Shore. Both remind me to keep moving and keep listening.
Between the “Drive Slow” beats by Kayne and hearing “Sunset smells like dinner” from The Lee Shore tune, I keep thinking.
And while contemplating, I hear a noise.
It is a young spike. Walking directly towards me. Antlers in full velvet.
He stands there at 15 yards for a full 40 seconds. Staring at me. Majestic. Close enough to count eyelashes.
I can fill my tag. Instead, I take a breath, and I fill my soul.
That almost minute was a masterclass in presence. Breathing. Noticing. Choosing.
And it set up what became the better story: getting my elk on the last day.
First-day success makes for a quick post. Last-day success makes for a life lesson. It asks for patience, trust, and the kind of faith you only earn when the sun is dropping, your legs are torched, and you choose to keep climbing anyway.
The elk were quiet. Maybe a chirp here or there, bugle if we were lucky. That sound, if you have ever heard it, sounds alien.
Going into the hunt, I worried I was too busy to enjoy it. One year I was doing a full separation after selling my business. Another time I was starting a brand-new business. This time, three weeks in a row of record-breaking enrollment in Multiplier.
Could I be present, or would I drag my to-do list up the mountain?
The answer surprised me. It was exactly what was required for this next chapter.
Silence. Skies that stretch your mindset. Work that strengthens you without punishing your spirit. Thinking time.
Not the grind. No podcasts to listen to or calls to make, just time with myself. To go deeper. To ask the same question again, until I had my answer(s).
Between the morning and afternoon hunts, I journaled. I took notes.
On the third night I woke up at 1 a.m., tried to meditate, and knew it was time to write.
The question was finally breaking through, the answers were rising as I kept asking the same question that keeps changing my life: What do I want?
Not what the world thinks I should want. Not what teachers or preachers taught. Not what family or friends hope for me.
What do I want in life, in health, in my relationships?
In the middle of the night, with no distractions, I was given the gift, the answers.
To create one million lasting legacies. Yes, I love what I do, I love when it impacts people, and I love the legacy I can create with the money I make.
Multiplier to be the most impactful and substantial financial education for entrepreneurs on the planet.
I want to be able to have the reach and reputation to be seen as THE curator and creator the most important community to help people multiply their financial results. I love teaching. I love building an amazing team. And I love seeing the results and feeling connected to those we serve.
I want to give 10 percent of every dollar I make to Inner Light Ministries. My meditation mentors and the path of light and sound. They support me, I support them, and it is motivating to be able to contribute to something that has contributed to my wife and I in the most meaningful of ways.
Daily coffee and conversations with Carrie. Carved out, in the back yard, in a brand-new nook with a magnificent view. Nightly Visit and Vision in another section of the yard or hot tub. Carrie and I creating our future with the words we weave into the dreams we achieve.
Quarterly retreats with my boys. Great locations, incredible conversations. Fun and function at the same time. Investing in my family. Intentionally and regularly.
The list goes on. Hopefully this inspires you to create your own. Mine started with knowing my values and it downloaded on my second hunt in seconds.
Sure, it took a lifetime to get clear and two hunts to create the space for it to come through, but here it is.
My personal values: lovingly honest. True to myself. A spark. Fun. Complimentary.
I’ll go deeper on the first two.
Lovingly honest, because I used to confuse “nice” with integrity. I would swallow truth to keep the peace, call it teamwork, and carry the weight in silence. That cost me presence and power. It crushed cash flow at times in business and built resentment in relationships.
Integrity is a two-way street. When commitments break, the risk of insult is the price of clarity. The willingness to have a conversation is the key to peace, possibility, and staying true.
This is about being aligned, congruent, knowing my boundaries and setting my standards. Honoring myself so I can be of value without sacrifice or losing what is most sacred to me.
Values.
Knowing my value. Do you know yours? Do you say yes when you mean no? Do you people please or take care of others before yourself?
That has cost me more than I’d like to admit. Maybe I was hunting for my inner voice, my inner child, and inner peace.
Hunting, either hard hiking or hard-earned stories…usually both.
Bow hunting is about the work before the hunt. Practice. Staying in shape. That way I can keep up with our 23-year-old guide as we scale a slope that felt vertical by headlamp. Or the year before doing a 20 mile day of hiking and carrying an animal on my back.
To stay there, it requires preparation and systems. As does having what you want.
For example, I am writing this from New Mexico after I just finished my X3 bands workout. Packing my own food when the healthy option is hope. Grabbing a nap when the mountain says rest. It is praying with my feet and writing with my legs.
And the most special piece of all, is time with my dad. A wonderful, loving example of how to live. He brings humor, he brings calm. He hikes all year and shoots his bow all the time. It keeps him young and healthy.
We had a 12-hour drive and talked almost the whole way. He stays in shape to hunt. He practices often. We talk about the hunt year-round. We look forward to it. We enjoy it before it happens.
That anticipation is a dividend that pays for months. A hobby that gives the gift of silence, serenity, and the beauty to reset. A reward that teaches patience. Not a grind. Thinking time.
Sometimes I recite parts of my play while I hike. Sometimes I sit with that one simple, yet profound question. Sometimes I ask what I’m most excited about and let my mind wander until a smile shows up for no reason. It strengthens my mind. It serves me. Nature. Silence. Time to myself. Again, quality time with my dad.
Back to that spike. Fifteen yards. Forty seconds. A reminder that I don’t have to take every easy thing just because it is easy. Sometimes saying no to things is the key to saying the right yeses. To get what I want, I realize I will be giving up a few things that are distractions disguised as opportunities.
In hunting and in business, scarcity grabs. Abundance chooses. I chose to wait for alignment. To trust the story would unfold if I stayed engaged and stayed true. I sold my business. I unwound partnerships.
This is the price of what I want. Waiting for the right bull, patience and focus is the price of success.
The very last day of my first hunt, I got my 6×6 big bull.
I won’t pretend I wasn’t tired. I was. But I wasn’t worn down. I was worn in. The difference is everything. Worn down is sacrifice and grind. Worn in is presence and purpose. The win was already happening in my head and my heart long before the release.
We win when we play. I say that a lot, because play is a serious strategy. Laughter, story, music in your head, a good hike with your dad, a journal at 1 a.m. That is wealth. That is energy. That is life design.
And “lovingly honest” didn’t stay on the page. It is in my heart and will come home with me. By saying what is true for me, with and from love, even when it is hard.
Lovingly honest looks like talking through misaligned deals instead of carrying them.
It looks like scheduling a family retreat with my wife between hunts, because legacy is lived, not left.
It looks like calling a friend to offer a compliment. It looks like telling better stories because I lived better days.
Most people don’t know what they want. Guilt clouds it. Noise drowns it. Or they try to appease others.
Money can help, but it won’t answer the question. Recognition is sweet, but temporary. No one can do this for you. It is your responsibility. It is your opportunity.
So, what do you really want?
Sit with it. Write it. Hike with it. Nap on it. Ask again. Let the answer be lovingly honest. Let it be yours.
And if you get a chance to stand 15 yards from a spike for 40 seconds, take it in. Appreciate it. Enjoy it. If you get your elk on day one, celebrate. If you get it on the last day, tell the story.
Either way, enjoy the sunrises and sunsets, the stars, the songs stuck in your head, and the conversations that make a 12-hour drive feel more like an hour.
Field Notes from the Mountain
- Bring simple tools that keep you consistent: I pack X3 bands and basic foods I know serve me.
- Protect thinking time: airplane mode saves hunts and careers.
- Rest is part of performance: a 20-minute nap can save a day.
- Journal prompts that work on a ridgeline:
- What do I want?
- What am I excited about right now?
- Where do I need to be lovingly honest?
- Anticipation is a dividend: enjoy the hunt before it starts, then enjoy it again when it ends.
