The Box

Most people talk about “thinking outside the box.” I didn’t realize until much later that I’d been living in one my whole life.

Not just the corporate box or the social box, but every box: emotional, physical, and even financial. I built my walls with discipline—rigid routines, strict diets, relentless hustle. By 35, I’d saved and hustled my way to becoming a millionaire. I checked every box I thought would guarantee safety or meaning.

But all those boxes started to collapse, and not in the way anyone expects. First came divorce, then depression and PTSD—like living inside a locked room with no windows. Then the unthinkable: a diagnosis of Chronic Leukemia. And just when I thought the walls couldn’t get any tighter, the world itself shut down with COVID, making every box feel even smaller.

If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that the longer you spend in the box, the more it shrinks around you. And sometimes it takes everything falling apart to realize you were never meant to live there in the first place.

It wasn’t just about survival—it was about awakening. Like St. John of the Cross described centuries ago, I found myself in a dark night of the soul. Everything I’d stuffed away, hidden behind achievement and outward success, came up to be reckoned with. I realized the box wasn’t just to keep myself safe—it was built to keep others comfortable too. And in trying to fit, I felt like a lone Lego trapped inside a giant, impossible Escher staircase—always climbing, never arriving.

Eventually, change wasn’t just an option; it was inevitable. I had to stake everything—my money, my identity, my sense of security—on finding something more meaningful. That was the real rebellion: not against society, but against the smallness I’d mistaken for safety.

My Origin: Raised to Build and Solve

I was born to a father who was a landscape architect, carpenter, and builder—methodical, precise, demanding. He built things with his hands and mind, and expected the same discipline from me. My mother was a businesswoman—a real estate pioneer at a time when women were supposed to be housewives. She ran offices, broke records, and eventually coached others to do the same.

This upbringing taught me resilience, vision, and how to solve problems with strategy and grit. But it also left me with baggage: I became obsessed with solving external problems that were really internal.

Early Success and Hidden Cost

In second grade, I wrote that I wanted to be the next Bill Gates, own two houses, have two dogs, be married, and work in software. By 30, I’d ticked every box: dual degrees in computer science and mathematics, two houses, a marriage, steady promotions—everything I dreamed up, with no real reason why.

Because of my upbringing and education, I became scientific, procedural, and addicted to achievement. I never felt satisfied—always chasing, always “one more thing.” I used anger and self-criticism as fuel, burning the candle at both ends above a pool of gasoline. No matter what I achieved, it never filled the emptiness. It was like tonguing a wound that refused to heal.

The Realization: Success Isn’t Meaning

After reaching the summit, I discovered it was empty. I spiraled into darkness—the Hermit in Tarot, wandering with only a lantern. Only later did I realize: the lantern wasn’t outside me. It was my own light, waiting to be found. The real journey wasn’t to reach the top, but to come down and help others build their own paths.

The LYFE Approach: Architecting, Not Coaching

What Makes This Different

I’m not a guru, and I’m not a cheerleader. I don’t hand you a list of “10 hacks to change your life,” or stand on the sidelines and clap. I see every person as a living ecosystem—messy, brilliant, full of moving parts, all worthy of respect and attention.

My job is to roll up my sleeves and help you build from the inside out. We don’t just swap out a tire and call it good—we might be changing the engine while you’re still driving 50 MPH. Sometimes it’s a tiny adjustment, other times it’s a total renovation. Either way, we work together, and you drive the direction.

How We Start: Honest Assessment

Everything begins with honesty—real, sometimes uncomfortable, always illuminating. We start with a deep assessment, not just once, but two or three times—each time going deeper, asking what’s really true in your life right now.

I don’t just see people as ecosystems—I also see each person as a complex set of operating programs, many running subconsciously, inherited or built over a lifetime. Our first work is to surface those programs, examine which ones serve you, and rewrite or let go of those that hold you back.

To make sense of it all, I draw from both traditional and modern frameworks. The primary lens I use is elemental: Earth for the physical body, Air for the mind and intellect, Water for the heart and emotions, Fire for the spirit or creative force, and Steel for the process of forging real change. This elemental approach helps us explore every dimension of your life.

We don’t use an exhaustive checklist—your story, habits, needs, and struggles are unique. When we assess, we look at everything that matters in your world: exercise, movement, nutrition, sleep, or anything else affecting your well-being. The process is open, never formulaic.

The Four Pillars: Earth, Air, Water, Fire

• Earth (Physical): Exercise, movement, nutrition, sleep, and physical environment—the basics, but always personalized, never prescriptive.
• Air (Intellectual): Are you growing or numbing? What stimulates you? What distracts you? We explore curiosity, mindset, and continued learning in whatever form matters to you.
• Water (Emotional): How much emotional range do you have? Can you name your feelings or do they blur together? Our work expands your emotional bandwidth, helps you identify triggers honestly, and builds more freedom and peace where there once was reactivity or shutdown.
• Fire (Spiritual): Whether you follow a tradition or not, we focus on meaning, connection, and the spark that animates your life. I often use frameworks like Internal Family Systems (IFS, Dick Schwartz) to help you see yourself as a community of parts. The aim is integration, not “fixing”—learning to listen, lead, and live from your core.
• Steel (Change/Forging): Real transformation happens when we take what’s raw or old and forge something new—your habits, your story, your life. This is the ongoing process that turns intention into action and action into identity.

Tools and Processes

We design, test, and iterate. We keep what works, and gently let go of what doesn’t. Sometimes the process is slow—tiny course corrections. Sometimes it’s a big leap. But you’re never alone in the work.

Community Without Performative Praise

LYFE isn’t a social media feed. We foster community support without chasing “likes.” Here, you’ll learn to celebrate your own growth, and receive support that’s real. The praise is there, but the real goal is for you to feel it inside—first and foremost.

LYFE’s Purpose & What to Expect

When I first came up with the acronym LYFE, I was mildly irritated—someone had already claimed the main website. I also had no idea what I wanted it to mean. For a while I bounced around, knowing I wanted something that captured living fully, but without sounding cheesy. In the end, I got something extra cheesy. But you know what? I love cheese, so screw it.

LYFE isn’t about “shiny” results or Insta-perfect before-and-afters. Being human is messy—sometimes you’re a baby flinging mashed peas, sometimes you’re a living art studio, sometimes you’re a culinary masterpiece, sometimes a design-in-progress. It’s all expression.

To me, living your fullest experience means unwiring the idea that we can’t fully live. It doesn’t glorify “not giving a fuck,” but it does ask the real question: “What do you give a fuck about, and why?” Manifesting the life you want isn’t about affirming yourself into happiness while hiding a cesspool of lies under the hood.

I built this—and am building this—for people like me: anyone who, like Neo in The Matrix, knows deep down that something isn’t right with the world. As Morpheus says: "You’re here because you know something. What you know you can’t explain, but you feel it. You’ve felt it your entire life, that there’s something wrong with the world. You don’t know what it is, but it’s there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad."

We’re not here to yank out the splinter; we’re here to realize maybe there is no splinter—and there is no spoon. What’s really in the way is just the noise, both inside and out.

Here you’ll find stories, honest failures, my personal pitfalls, and real feedback. You’ll find art, ideas, hopefully a few people you connect with, and ways to give the noise a voice so you can finally quiet it. The whole point is to slowly, gently, persistently find your way back to you.

I don’t have all the answers. I’m not offering you a one-size-fits-all solution. But I promise to tell the truth, offer what I’ve learned, and keep building this space for anyone who wants to live their own LYFE—mess, masterpiece, and all.