Standing before you, I reflect on a pivotal moment that reshaped my life and career. Early in my journey, I was immersed in technology—fascinated by IBM punch cards and early computing. As I worked my way up, becoming a sought-after executive consultant for cutting-edge platforms, I believed innovation was the key to shaping the future.

But everything changed during a chance encounter in Chicago. I passed a young boy on the street, absorbed in his phone, unaware of the world around him. In that brief moment, I saw how technology, which I once thought would empower us, was instead disconnecting us from life itself. We were so focused on progress that we had forgotten to pause and connect with the present moment.

That encounter sparked a deep realization. Technology wasn't the problem—it was how we were using it. We had become consumed by the digital world and disconnected from ourselves, each other, and the world around us. I shifted my focus from driving faster innovation to helping people pause, reconnect, and live with intention.

Through the "Practice the Pause" movement, I now guide others to slow down and reflect, realizing that true progress often comes from taking a step back to connect with what truly matters.

I never understood the power of a single pause until life forced one upon me. It was a chilly December morning, and the cold outside mirrored the emptiness inside me. For years, I had been chasing goals, accomplishments, and recognition—driven by the need for "more." More success, more accolades, more everything. But I never realized how much I was neglecting myself in the process.

My origin story doesn't begin with an epiphany, but with a quiet whisper to slow down—a whisper I ignored for far too long. I was managing teams, leading projects, writing books, and inspiring others, yet I felt disconnected from my own life. Then, one morning, I woke up to a profound sense of exhaustion, not just physical, but emotional and spiritual. My usual drive was gone. I realized I couldn't keep pretending everything was fine.

That was when I discovered the pause.

I gave myself permission to stop, reflect, and ask the hard questions: What am I chasing? Why does it matter? And who am I beyond the titles? The pause felt uncomfortable at first, but over time, it transformed my life. It gave me clarity, purpose, and connection. Now, I teach others to pause, recalibrate, and live dynamically with intention.