Thirty years ago, if you had told me I’d one day be writing about philosophy, meditation, neuroscience, AI, and building an app around habits, I would have laughed.

That wasn’t the plan.

In fact, I don’t think there ever was a plan.

Looking back, I realize there was another story unfolding in the background.

A question I didn’t even know I was asking.

And it has quietly shaped my life ever since.

It started in November of 1994.

I was a few years into my career when someone recommended that I read The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. Like a lot of people in my twenties, I wanted to improve myself. Build a better career. Become more effective. Figure life out.

Then I came across a quote that has stayed with me ever since.

“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”

Stephen Covey popularized this quote in The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, attributing the underlying idea to Viktor Frankl.

My first reaction?

I thought it was full of bullshit.

Seriously.

Someone cuts me off in traffic — I react.

Someone criticizes me — I react.

Something goes wrong at work — I react.

That’s just how people work.

The idea that there was this magical “space” where we calmly chose our response didn’t seem realistic.

If anything, my reaction to the quote proved the quote.

I just didn’t know it yet.

I couldn’t have imagined that quote would stay with me for the next thirty years.

Not because I immediately believed it.

Because I couldn’t stop arguing with it.

Over the years I found myself reading more books.

Leadership.

Psychology.

Habits.

Positive psychology.

Neuroscience.

Mindfulness.

Philosophy.

Each one seemed to reveal another piece of the puzzle.

None of them seemed to explain the whole picture.

So I kept searching.

For a long time, life looked pretty good from the outside.

I built a career I was proud of.

I was learning.

Growing.

Leading.

Coaching.

But underneath, things weren’t quite as simple.

I struggled with anxiety.

My asthma became part of everyday life.

My body kept reminding me that something wasn’t quite in alignment.

There were seasons of exhaustion, stress, and health challenges that couldn’t simply be solved by “thinking more positively” or trying harder.

The deeper I looked, the more I realized that life wasn’t just happening in my head.

My body had a voice.

My emotions had a voice.

My relationships had a voice.

My environment had a voice.

Everything was connected.

That realization changed the direction of my search.

Eleven years ago, I started meditating.

Not because I wanted to become enlightened.

Honestly, I just wanted a little less anxiety.

A little more peace.

A little more space.

Meditation didn’t magically fix my life.

It changed the way I paid attention.

It helped me notice.

I began to notice how often I was reacting before I was aware.

How stories shaped my experience.

How my body carried stress before my mind recognized it.

How habits weren’t simply behaviors—they were expressions of something much deeper.

I also discovered something unexpected.

The more I explored, the less interested I became in finding the answer.

Somewhere along the way I came across another quote that stayed with me.

“This is my way; where is yours? … For the way — that does not exist.” — Friedrich Nietzsche

That quote landed very differently.

For years I had been looking for the best system.

The perfect morning routine.

The ideal productivity method.

The right philosophy.

Eventually I realized that every tradition seemed to illuminate a different part of what it means to be human.

Leadership.

Science.

Faith.

Mindfulness.

Psychology.

Philosophy.

Different windows.

The same mountain.

I stopped looking for the way.

I became much more interested in exploring a way of living well.

My way.

And helping others discover theirs.

Looking back ...

I don’t think I’ve spent the last thirty years studying habits.

Or meditation.

Or neuroscience.

Or AI.

I’ve been exploring one question.

What does it mean to live well?

That question eventually became Habits Coach.

Not because I wanted to build another habit tracker.

There are already plenty of those.

I wanted to build the companion I wish I’d had during my own journey.

Something that didn’t just remind me to check a box.

Something that helped me notice.

Reflect.

Experiment.

Learn.

Drift.

Return.

And gradually become a little more aware of how I was living.

Over the next few posts I’ll be sharing more about the philosophy behind the next generation of Habits Coach.

Not because I think I’ve discovered the answer.

Quite the opposite.

The more I’ve learned, the more I’ve come to appreciate the mystery of being human.

I don’t think life is a problem to solve.

I think it’s something to participate in.

Something to practice.

Something to continually explore.

If you’ve been asking some of the same questions …

If you’ve ever wondered why success doesn’t always bring peace …

If you’ve ever felt like different books each held a piece of something larger …

If you’ve ever sensed there might be more to life than simply becoming more productive …

I’m still exploring what it means to live well.

I’d love for you to explore it with me.