Prior to 2019, I thought I was at peace.
I had created a world for myself that worked—built on winning at life, performing and succeeding, racking up real-world accomplishments that were the envy of others, and having a life that looked fantastic in every way.
What I didn’t realize was that this world was precariously balanced—like a dozen spinning plates wobbling on thin poles.
That was just the way it was. And since none of the plates had ever come crashing down, it worked.
I had no idea what hung in the balance.
Real peace of mind—something that didn’t rely on proving and achieving—I had absolutely no idea what that even was. As I used to say to others, “You have time to rest—a.k.a. be at peace—when you’re dead.”
My life looked like a long string of CrossFit workouts, adventure races, training challenges, and epic quests. Sure, it was fun and exciting… but I had no awareness that my inner peace and peace of mind required it.
Heck, even sitting Zazen (meditation) at 5am, three days a week at the Santa Monica Zen Center felt like something to achieve—a goal to accomplish.
Peace of mind? I thought I had it… just keep those plates spinning!
I remember thinking, I’m sure there’s something beneficial about slowing down and being present—I’ll find time for that just as soon as I’ve earned it.
But after my big year of 2019—when all the plates came crashing down—when my peace of mind became seemingly unrecoverable, and it became clear that checking the next box or accomplishing the next thing wouldn’t bring me the peace or calm I craved—I realized something important:
Doing more—putting accomplishments first to create the illusion of peace inside—was like shaking a snow globe, thinking that despite the constant shaking, the white stuff inside would somehow settle.
Really? Ha. That’s just not how life works. It’s physics, actually.
Most of us who perform at high levels have been conditioned to believe that stress is fuel, urgency is necessary, and pressure sharpens our edge.
And sometimes, it does.
But eventually, it also dulls something essential—your clarity, your inner wisdom, and your ability to connect to your intuition and heart.
Because when your mind is constantly occupied with winning, competing, solving, fixing, anticipating, and proving, you can’t access the part of you that leads from wisdom and love instead of anxiety and fear.
That’s why peace of mind isn’t just a wellness concept.
It's a performance strategy.
When you can cultivate calm—even in chaos—and tap into your parasympathetic (rest and digest) nervous system when life is stressful, you show up differently:
You make clearer decisions.
You listen instead of react.
You see possibilities that stress keeps hidden.
You become at cause for your life and gain the power to choose, instead of staying at the effect of the old habits that have kept you running hard for years.
And you know what improves as a result?
Your effectiveness at work and your potential to perform at an even higher level.
Your relationships with your spouse, family, and kids.
Your capacity to maintain your center, access your inner wisdom, and keep your cool even in the most stressful conditions.
Your ability as an inspirational leader to solve problems, handle crises, and bring people together.
Your connection to your friends and peers.
Your stress, worry, anxiety, and fear about the future.
Your joy, happiness, and overall outlook on life.
If you’ve been postponing your peace—pushing forward every day, chasing the next win because slowing down feels too uncomfortable—I get it.
Just know this: for most high achievers, that day never comes.
Maybe you’re starting to feel the fatigue of the fight. Maybe it’s not working as well as it used to. Maybe you’ve dropped some—or all—of the spinning plates.
Maybe you’re wondering if there is a different way.
There is—and if you’re curious, let’s talk.
More soon,
—Andy
P.S. If this resonated, hit reply, or leave a comment. I read everything. And if you’re thinking about the possibility of making a shift in how you relate to life, schedule a short call with me.