The year that changed the trajectory of my life forever. I took third place at the Rural Young Entrepreneur public speaking competition and was accepted into South Utah University’s Governor’s Honors Academy. Sure, I was an alternate—number 51. Thankfully, someone dropped out and I attended the program with inventors, scientists, senators, and leaders. I give a percentage of my income to these programs and speak at them from time to time.

I wanted to invest the $5,000 that came with my young entrepreneur win. Really, I wanted to get rich quickly and get out of my small town. This led to my internship at Guardian and Park Avenue Securities, while still in college. Although selling insurance seemed more like network marketing than financial advising, I made more than any of my professors that year.

I joined forces with three other young gentlemen who weren’t afraid to ask questions, study relentlessly, and had the intellectual honesty to admit when they had been wrong or limited with what they knew. This passion for knowledge and the pursuit of principles of prosperity led to forming a new firm: Engenuity. Our vision was to be the pre-eminent financial planning firm in the state of Utah. I learned how to be more present, question the money myths that didn’t serve the world, and have fun along the way with my partners.

On June 9th, our company plane left St. George, Utah and crashed in Utah Lake. It was after a symposium led by my business partner, Ray, and attended by my other business partner, Les, who went along for support. In shock, and worried about my partners’ family and our employees, I didn’t take a single moment to feel. I started working harder than ever and got caught in a losing game. After four months I hadn’t even cried. I couldn’t make even the simplest of decisions since I was exhausted and learned a valuable lesson in legacy. If you don’t take care of yourself and your family, you have less to give.

The Great Recession between 2007 to 2009 was a difficult time for me and my family. Over-leveraged with real estate, I did all I could to hold it all together in the downturn. I went back to playing a losing game. I worked harder than ever before. As a result, my health and marriage suffered.

Often in a bio, we only hear about the good, the awards and accolades, but since you are here and reading, I am giving you the whole story. After parting ways with an expensive consultant, I lost my momentum. I bought a business, and due to a difference of opinion with a partner, I thought I might lose it all. Fortunately, I gained an amazing team and new partners that stayed on after the buyout. This was the beginning of Wealth Factory. With our new team, we established a vision to liberate one million people by supporting them to create financial independence.

My wife and I attended Burning Man. Some people only think about the wild stories, but for us, it was about unlocking our inner artists. She made a snow cone shack, and bikes we drove around on in costumes. I tried a comedy set (maybe my worst ever) on the playa. I started to see even more possibilities of what people could do without the worry or burden of money.

Wealth Factory hosted a Legacy Workshop for people to create their Family Constitution. Before I led that workshop, I planned to do a comedy set to open for a musical comedy. When I saw a picture of the venue on Facebook, it looked like a stadium, and I kinda freaked out. When I remembered that I had already won and ran through all I had done to prepare, I calmed down. I had an amazing set—the best of my life. It was at that show that I met Barry Katz, former owner of the Boston Comedy Club in New York City. He had represented comedy greats Dave Chappelle, Bill Burr, Dane Cook, and more. This was the beginning of a wonderful relationship that led to a new way of reaching people—to laugh them awake.

After a tough rehearsal and what should have been a ton of pressure, I had a moment of clarity and calm. I knew that everything would go according to plan. I felt it in my bones. Even the mistakes would be part of the experience and something to enjoy. I remembered my mantra, progress over perfection, and decided there would only be one conversation that entire evening, any thought in my mind would be shared with the audience so I could be fully present. I appreciated every moment. I wasn’t trying to get done, but simply be with those that were there and celebrate along the way. It was the epitome of Win Then Play, and on April 15th with a packed house for both shows, I performed The American Ream. The production team consisted of an eight-camera film crew that included three Emmy winners.