Not every crossroads jolts you like your first time crossing the main intersection of Times Square—blinding lights, noise, and a pulse you feel in your chest. Some arrive quietly, tapping your shoulder, waiting for you to turn around.

Junior year at Colorado State, I was a Denver kid with Broncos pride and a 14-year-old memory of an American Bleak t-shirt flop still lingering. Then two books hit: Nuts!—Southwest Airlines’ gospel of heart and hustle—and Winning, Jack Welch’s guide to corporate conquest.

I didn’t want to choose between joy and performance. I wanted both.

So I sent out 10-page love letters—CSU underdog chasing giants.

Southwest bit. They flew me to Dallas (on Delta—irony fully intact) for a group interview. I was the only guy among nine women, sweating bullets, running on instinct. I landed the internship. They offered me a full-time spot. Their “LUV” culture was real—warm, inviting, profitable. It felt like the job equivalent of a campfire.

GE? Nothing. Silence.

The following fall after returning from my internship with Southwest, I was still hungry for GE. So, I decided to get in my truck and drive down to the nearest GE plant, located in Loveland, CO, about 45 minutes from my university campus. I walked in with a résumé and a stubborn smile and handed my information over to the receptionist who looked like she was trained by the Secret Service. Nothing.

A few weeks later, I came back with a huge bouquet of flowers. That following Tuesday morning, my phone rang, “You’re rather persistent,” said Tom B., a GE finance exec. I was in!

GE paid double what Southwest offered for an entry level position right out of college. It was a rocket ride: financial rotations, boardrooms, high-stakes projects. I learned how to pitch, how to cut through chaos, how to survive in rooms with teeth. Eventually, I was on the team who helped orchestrate the dismantling of GE Capital—playing chess while the board kept shifting.

But even then, something else was tugging.

I’ve always been drawn to marketplaces—the most maddening business model to start, and the most rewarding to crack.

Over the years, I built several. Campus Special—linking advertisers to college students. Idle Cars—a fleet-sharing platform in New York. Slamming real estate side deals in Manhattan—connecting renters with landlords and keys that never quite worked. Then building electronic trading systems on Wall Street—matching buy and sell orders in milliseconds. And most recently at Paymode X where we facilitated online payments from payers to service providers who needed to get paid.

Each was its own storm of friction. But when they clicked, it was magic. Marketplaces connect. They unlock value. They bring strangers into sync. That’s what I kept chasing.

But that was never the endgame.

What stuck with me wasn’t the title or the pay. It was the hum I kept hearing underneath—the urge to build something that mattered. Something people actually used. Something alive. I admire systems with heart. Platforms with purpose. A path that lets others walk more freely.

That first big crossroads—GE or Southwest—wasn’t about corporate culture or cash. It was about listening to the deeper pull. I picked intensity then. And I’m rounding it out with purpose now.

And maybe that’s what real growth looks like—not switching lanes, but learning which road actually belongs to you.

I’m just returning home after a week of mindfulness and meditation. It was the first deep mental break I’ve had in over four years, and it was long overdue. I am not the only one long overdue for a mental break. I think most people in America and around the world feel burnt out. Life has been incredibly challenging for all of us of late, especially recently. With Ukraine, Covid, the election, and the ongoing return-to-office saga, we all deserve time to reflect and realign our lives. 

For me, my professional life had fallen out of alignment. Late last year, I had just finished a massive project at work, but I was just reeling with stress, driving a lack of focus, and felt relatively ambivalent to taking on new projects. The worst part was that this was spilling over into my personal life. The compartments I strive so hard to contain were oozing together at a rapid clip. After some nudging from my wife and scrutinizing the ROI, I took a week to myself. 

So, as I slowly reintegrate back into reality, I decided to put pen to paper and log some of the lessons I learned. I want to look back, hold myself accountable, and grow from this experience. And there is no better place to share these insights than right here, publicly, on my page. Here is what I am doing to get my life back into alignment in 2022.

Going back to analog

During this last week of meditation, I met some new friends. One of them is the head of AI at one of the top 3 technology companies in the US. So, as you would imagine, our discussions were enlightening, creative, and exciting. One topic of discussion we were toying with was the amount of clutter and *distraction* we deal with in our daily lives. For me, it’s a problem. I’m easily distracted. I’ve seen that the quality of discussions, which are intended to build connection, trust, and empathy have decreased significantly due to the zoom boom. After my experience as an entrepreneur, a corporate CFO, a father, a son and a husband, I have clarity that being 100% present in both my personal and professional life is critical. I *choose* to be here, so I should be present. 

So, what am I going to do about it? Two things.

We recently moved out of NYC to a small coastal town outside of Boston. The public transit system of NYC that I’ve taken advantage over the last 10 years is no longer an option. We already have our ‘family’ car, which we absolutely love (thank you Elon). So, I was in search of something more practical just to get to/from work, poke around town, and hit a couple of odd jobs now and then, After toying with it and researching options (even put myself on the cybertruck waitlist), I decided to go vintage. Back to my roots if you will. Back in college, one of my good friends drove a 1994 Toyota Pickup. It was the most practical, simple, analog, unsmart car I’d ever driven. It has absolutely zero distractions (sans the radio). So, I bought one. Crank windows, manual stick shift and all. It’s been eye opening. Liberating in a way. I’m excited for this to be my new mode of transport. I’m sure I’ll get some cunning looks, but I think this will be a simple way to put more control and boundaries during the time in which I should be paying the *most* attention, which is while driving (added benefits of additional privacy, which is becoming increasingly more important).

Second, I am removing work apps on my mobile phone and completely removing my smartwatc. My work computer is there for just that, work. By intentionally separating my personal and professional devices, I will increase my ability to manage my boundaries. I will avoid having my work phone buzz and distract me during meetings. I also expect to see an uptick in my ability to be more present in my personal life. Its a way of living my life in a controlled multi-modal way.

I’ll come back to my blog to post about my experience.

Let your people go surfing.

During my recent break, I decided to re-read Yvonne Chouinard’s book “Let My People Go Surfing.” I hadn’t read it in over 15 years, but the principles Yvonne outlines in his book remain incredibly relevant to today’s business leaders, entrepreneurs, and creators alike.

What I love most about his book, is that Yvonne spends less than ten pages out of the 260 discussing his ‘Management Philosophy’. It’s a testament to the simplicity of his philosophy and, in many regards, why he will go down as one of the best leaders in history. 

Throughout the section on management, Yvonne’s style comes to light. He is an entrepreneur at heart and clearly does not like being told what to do. He says, “I purposely try to hire people who are really self-motivated and good at what they do, and then I just leave them alone.” I find his approach to management is inspiring.

I’ll leave you with a quote from his book. “The best leadership style is by example.” – Yvon Chouinard, Founder, and Owner of Patagonia.

All good things must come to an end. A little over two weeks ago, I resigned from the coveted position of Finance Executive at GE, a Fortune 10 company. It marked the end of an amazing 8 year run. And the beginning of a new chapter in my professional life.

I am extremely fortunate for the experience I recieved at GE. The first 8 years out of college, the most formidable professional development years, have been incredible. The company quite literally scooped me up from out west, invested in me heavily, and created a very curious business leader.
Their investment in me started with education. Just days after my college graduation, I was sent up to their largest manufacturing shop in the North East to learn. It was awesome. I learned, hands on, all that I could about manufacturing, labor productivity, part costs, and, most importantly, how to survive a winter in upstate New York. They also put us through hard-core courses on corporate finance and accounting, capped off with exams which if you failed more than once, you were out. For good.

The hands-on, in-classroom education was coupled with something far more powerful, however. They allowed us to build authentic relationships with real leaders. These leaders taught us how to operate businesses. They taught to balance confidence with humility. They taught us how to treat people fairly. They taught us to eat numbers for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Leaving GE feels like I’m breaking up with my family, a decision I am not taking lightly. I have exhausted consultation with my mentors and advisors, ad nauseam. And I have decided, the time has come.
Fortunately, there are bright spots on the horizon. I am leaving to begin a software startup where I can apply my passion for technology and problem solving. A few friends and I recently encountered a problem that lies at the intersection of capital, transportation and technology. All three are areas in which I have studied in great depth over the last 8+ years. I also believe these areas have huge potential for growth over the next 5+ years.

When building a team, diversity must be a defining characteristic. Why invest in diversity? Because, frankly, it just works! As they say “A rising tide lifts all boats”.

I love two stories from history:
– Team of Rivals: Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln
– Remember the Titans

Both of these stories demonstrate that diverse teams win. They are resilient. Diverse teams challenge each other, they push each other, and most importantly, they teach each other. They become stronger as a result of it.

On a personal level – working on a diverse team requires us to grow. If you do not grow with the team you will be left behind. I’ve had the opportunity to work in several countries, work on and lead teams with amazing amounts of diversity. I’ve led teams of individuals from many different backgrounds. As a result, I’ve grown tremendously. Working on projects with the most diverse teams have been the times when I learned the most. I remember practically begging to go to work in Asia, my request was granted, it changed my life!

Cultivating diversity is often uncomfortable and difficult. It takes patience and an open mind. But, it wins.

I don’t think you should take my word for it…