Advisory Work as a Homecoming
There comes a moment in many careers when the metrics that once defined success stop feeling like enough. The titles, the milestones, even the wins. Each one matters early on, but over time, they can start to feel hollow.
For me, that moment arrived during a string of personal and professional shifts that forced me to ask what I actually wanted from my career beyond achievement.
The first was the September 11 attacks. Like millions of others, I was horrified and unsettled by questions I could not answer about what they meant for society and for the way I understood it. The following spring, my father died of Alzheimer's. Six months later, my mother died of metastatic breast cancer. It was as if the gyroscope that had kept my life steady suddenly spun off its axis, and the loss of control and certainty threw me into unfamiliar territory.
Professionally, my career was sliding into its own version of that uncertainty. A partnership I had formed in the early 1990s, with the intent to eventually buy the business, was going nowhere. (It was the first of three failed partnerships before I learned to partner with myself.) I was left wondering what came next. My wife and our three children were asking the same question, each in their own way. Finding the answer was sobering.
At first, the answers did not come easily. Letting go of what you have built your identity on never does. But somewhere in that uncertainty, I returned to what had always energized me most: curiosity, creativity, and the challenge of solving complex problems.
That rediscovery pointed me toward advisory work, which felt less like a new chapter than a return to what I had always known and trusted about myself. What I enjoyed most was never running a business for its own sake. It was helping others unlock their potential and carry the sense of discovery every entrepreneur does. It was no longer about control; it was about clarity, insight, and impact.
I founded my advisory practice in 2005 with a lot of energy, and reality set in fast. Building something this new would not be easy. I had no formula or proven framework, only a story to tell over and over until it reached the right audience and someone was willing to take a chance on something new.
There is always a point where a story starts to gain traction, and it usually begins with one person who connects with the vision. For me, that person was Bill Stoller. He was not the first to take an interest, but he understood me best, and he gave me the latitude to trust my instincts and help his businesses set new standards for success and impact. I am forever grateful for the opportunities he gave me, and for the wisdom and humility he shared in the friendship we built.
More than twenty years later, the work is still demanding, sometimes more so. But it feels aligned. The conversations I have with owners, leaders, and teams go deeper than tactics or quarterly goals. They focus on identity, intent, and what it means to lead well through transition and uncertainty.
If you find yourself at a similar crossroads, by choice or by circumstances beyond your control, you may be left wondering what comes next, or whether the direction you have been heading still feels right. Start by asking a different question. Not "What should I do?" but "What do I most want to contribute?" The answer, or answers, might surprise you. And if it includes advisory work to deliver that value, then, from where I stand, the possibilities are wide open. You will simply have to make it real.
Advisory work, like any meaningful pursuit, is not a shortcut to balance or freedom. It is a choice to stay close to what makes you come alive, even when it means reshaping what success looks like.
