I'm not here to tell you I have it all figured out.
I'm obsessed with what makes groups work — especially in the gap between "we need each other" and "this is exhausting." I've spent twenty years chasing that question.
Most recently, I spent three years as Head of People at Venus Aerospace, building the teams that achieved the first flight of a rotating detonation rocket engine.
The physics of Mach 9 were unforgiving. The human dynamics required to get there were harder.
I burned out there. The person who spent years talking about a more human way of working tried to be superhuman.

I wrote Can I Have Your Attention? (Wiley), which became a bestseller.
I also have ADHD, which is either ironic or the whole point.
I built a company around the question of distraction. But the deeper I went, the more obvious something became: most attention problems are not really attention problems.
I got my start working with the Center for Generational Kinetics. I looked fourteen. Nobody was going to hire someone who looks fourteen to talk about anything other than millennials.
Before that, I started at a camp in East Texas at eleven. Twelve summers total. Then class president at Texas A&M, being responsible for executing on the traditions that make the university so unique.

I've also spent fifteen years in communication coaching — NFL Hall of Famers, Olympic gold medalists, Fortune 500 CEOs, and founders walking into the room where the check gets written or doesn't.
Board presentations, media appearances, speeches that couldn't miss. The generational work put me on stages. The coaching made me useful once I got there.
I wrote these for my family — the things that keep us tethered to who we are.

I live in Frisco, TX with my wife and kids. I coach baseball and basketball.
I'm writing The Group Wager. I've gone my entire career without a cold plunge, and I have no plans for that to change.
If your group is building something that matters, I'd love to hear about it.