“They won’t understand your drive—at least, not at first.”
That’s a truth I’ve lived, and one I suspect many of you have, too. It’s not just about being misunderstood; it’s about navigating the quiet, lonely spaces where your vision seems too big for others to grasp and, some days, too heavy for you to carry.
I’ve felt the weight of that loneliness many times. But the moment it became undeniable came in the back pasture of my property.
A Defining Moment
The fences back there were old, barely standing, and needed to come down. The grade is steep, about ten percent, sloping down toward the water. Every step I took, my blood pressure spiked, dizziness hit, and I had to stop, catching my breath. It wasn’t just hard—it was humbling.
I stood there, feeling every bit of the decline I’d let happen. I felt worthless. All I wanted was to help on the property, and yet I couldn’t even do that without risking collapse. That moment stuck with me, quietly reshaping the way I saw myself.
The Gradual Shift
I knew something had to change, but at first, I didn’t know where to start. My family and I tried making small adjustments, eating healthier, being more active, but the progress was minimal. It wasn’t until I was deep into Code of The West—about a year in—that I realized what I needed wasn’t just small steps. I needed a fundamental shift.
The turning point came during a trip to Montana for the opening of Josh Smith’s Montana Knife Company facility. I was standing there, surrounded by people who embodied the very principles I was trying to build into Code of The West, and it hit me: I wasn’t a good reflection of the Code.
If I was going to build this into something real, I had to fully embody the values I was preaching.
The Role of Courage
This realization wasn’t just about health or fitness—it was about courage. Courage to step into the unknown, to take everything I’d learned from my past careers and channel it into something meaningful. I had to dream again, but this time, the dream wasn’t about external achievements; it was about becoming the person who could bring those dreams to life.
That’s the thing about courage: it’s not just about big, bold acts. Sometimes, it’s the quiet decision to face yourself, to acknowledge your limitations, and to commit to change.
Dreaming Beyond the Guardrails
Dreaming came back slowly. At first, it was just about imagining small, attainable goals—learning to cook, losing weight, keeping my space clean. But over time, I realized I’d put guardrails around my dreams.
I could envision growth, but only within the limits of what seemed immediately possible. Building Code of The West into a global brand felt beyond reach, even though deep down, I knew it was possible.
That’s the work I’m doing now—learning to dream without limits, to stretch beyond what feels safe.
The Cascading Effect of Internal Change
One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned is that real momentum doesn’t come from external achievements alone. Earlier in life, I chased big, flashy goals—becoming a comic book artist, moving to New York City, meeting my mentor. Those experiences gave me a sense of power and energy, but they were rooted in external validation.
Now, I’ve come to see that the same kind of momentum can come from internal changes. When you work on yourself—your habits, your mindset, your discipline—that growth cascades outward, shaping everything you touch.
A Call to Action: Rewrite Your Script
We all have an internal script, the stories we tell ourselves about what’s possible. Too often, that script is shaped by the status quo, convincing us to stay small, to stop dreaming. But here’s the truth: you can rewrite that script.
Dreaming isn’t just about envisioning a better life; it’s about having the courage to step into the unknown and build it.
So here’s my challenge to you:
What’s the dream you’ve been keeping small?
What would it take to rewrite your story and take that first step?
The road less traveled isn’t easy, but it’s where real transformation happens.