Mindset
“The measure of a life is not in what we accumulate,
but in what we awaken, in ourselves, and in others.”
― S.L.
If you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time, you’ve probably sensed a shift in my thinking. Over the past while, I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting on direction, on change, and on what I want this next chapter of life to look like.
For some time now, I’ve felt a growing sense of isolation. The pandemic changed the fabric of our community in ways that never quite returned to what they once were. Living in the mountains, something that once felt like an opportunity, slowly became a place where I felt disconnected. The truth is, I never really fell in love with skiing, and neither did my family. That matters more than you think when winter stretches on.
More than anything, I struggled to build the kind of community that energizes and challenges you. And if I’m being honest, that’s at least partly on me. You have to reach out in order to be reached.
At the same time, my wife and I have been building our education business. It has been some of the most meaningful work I’ve ever done, but also some of the most demanding. The ground beneath you in that space is never entirely stable, and since the pandemic, it’s been shifting even faster.
The way people learn has changed. The way they want to learn has changed. On one hand, there is a desire for flexibility, autonomy, and access. On the other, there is a deep need for connection, for shared experience, for being in a room with other people. It creates a kind of tension that is not easy to resolve. You are constantly trying to meet both needs, knowing that neither one alone is enough.
Layer on top of that the pace of technology, the ever-changing algorithms of communication, and the constant demand to stay relevant, and it becomes a landscape that is both full of opportunity and quietly exhausting. It is easier than ever to build and share, but harder than ever to truly connect.
And yet, through all of it, one thing has remained consistent for me.
I am driven by purpose.
I have come to understand that I am at my best when I am creating change. Not change for the sake of it, but change that improves what already exists. I’ve always been drawn to questioning convention, to asking whether the way things have always been done is actually the way they should continue to be done. I want the work I do to elevate people, to help them see what’s possible, and to give them a pathway toward it.
Most of that work has lived in the world of human performance. More recently, it has expanded through the podcast, through writing, and through the ongoing exploration of ideas in public. It has been a deeply creative process, one that I care about a great deal.
But creativity, especially when it lives in public, asks a lot of you. It requires constant attention, constant refinement, and a willingness to keep showing up. There are days I love that process, and days where I find myself wanting something quieter. Less doing, more being.
That tension led to a simple question.
What else is possible?
So I put myself out there. I opened the door to opportunities in leadership and performance, knowing that any real shift would likely mean a significant change for our family. A new place, a new rhythm, a new beginning.
At the same time, my wife and I were having our own conversations about what we wanted life to feel like moving forward. We both felt the same pull. Less isolation. More connection. A stronger sense of belonging.
What came back to us was something we couldn’t ignore.
An opportunity to return to Montreal. To a place that has always felt like home. A chance to reconnect with community, to support our daughter as she begins her university journey, and to build a life that feels more aligned with who we are now.
And professionally, an opportunity that felt uniquely right.
To step into a role where I can lead, create, and do the kind of work that has defined my career. To take on reconditioning projects from beginning to end, and to shape them in a way that reflects everything I’ve learned over the years. To challenge convention, to explore new possibilities, and to help others perform at the highest level of what they are capable of.
All of it within an environment I’ve admired for a long time.
Cirque du Soleil has always represented something different to me. It is a place where art and science intersect, where the limits of human performance are explored not just for outcome, but for expression. Every show is a reminder of what the human body can do when imagination and discipline come together.
To be part of that environment, to contribute to it, and to learn from it, feels like a natural extension of everything I have been pursuing.
So this is not an ending. It’s not even a pivot.
It’s a continuation, just in a new setting.
We will continue to teach, to write, and to build what we’ve started. But we will do it from a place that feels more connected, more alive, and more aligned with what we want our lives to be.
Sometimes change comes slowly, through quiet reflection.
And sometimes it asks you to step forward before everything feels certain.
Here is the next adventure.
