Friday, July 18th, Niseko, Japan

The past two days I've been in Niseko, a world-famous ski destination known for its abundance of powdery snow. In the summer, it's much slower and more relaxed. Typically, you can enjoy stunning views of Mt. Yotei, but during my stay, it's been rainy and cloudy. I biked an hour to a neighboring town to visit an onsen. The ride was tough—full of hills—and my quads were on fire. But the solitude gave me space to think and reflect. I'm deeply grateful for this incredible adventure. Even riding through pouring rain in the Japanese countryside—those are the moments you don't get every day. While I was reflecting, I thought about something kids used to say to me on the beaches of Southeast Asia when they asked for money. I'd tell them I didn't have any, and they'd laugh and say, "No money, no honey." It never fully clicked until recently. As I travel the world watching my net worth dwindle, it's clear that this lifestyle isn't sustainable forever. At some point, you need a source of income. The exceptions to this rule are few: maybe if you fully dedicate yourself to a spiritual path—living in an ashram in India or on a Tibetan Buddhist pilgrimage to Lhasa—or if you're comfortable living in a shack in a developing country. Those paths sometimes sound appealing, but I realize that's not what I'm meant to do—at least, not now. To support a wife, children, a family—even just yourself—you need money. And to get that cash flow usually requires focused, consistent work in a specific direction. A jack of all trades is a master of none—but a master of one moves markets. As I look to the future, I feel a growing desire to master a specific skill in a specific industry—something I can get excited about for years. I don't want to just find a job that pays well for a year, only to burn out and reset again. The same goes for starting a business: if you're only in it for the money, it's unlikely to last. You need real fire behind what you're building. When you narrow your criteria to only working on things you care about—and only if you can do them remotely—it becomes clear how few paths really fit. I've always been more drawn to hardware than software, but I could find my niche if needed. I'm passionate about wellness, the energy industry, drones and eVTOL, quantum mechanics, photonics and optics, and decentralized finance. Travel helps you cast your net wide—to test what excites you. But when it's time to return, you need to gather all the fish in your net and choose a favorite. I haven't chosen mine yet—but you get the idea. As I looked at myself in the mirror of the onsen shower, I felt proud. I can be hard on myself, always focused on where I can grow and improve. But I'm also proud of the man I've become and the growth I've experienced—especially over the past 10 months, and really, the past few years.