About

Stanford engineer. I've been building companies since 2007. Sold the first one to YouTube eighteen months in - ended up running the video player used by hundreds of millions of people, responsible for more than half the traffic on the entire internet.

By every measure that's supposed to matter, I'd made it. The exit, the career, the access. It felt hollow.

In 2012 something cracked open. I picked up a David Deida book - The Way of the Superior Man - and it woke up a question I couldn't put down: what is consciousness, actually? I started training with him, assisting at retreats, and the question kept deepening.

That led to a solo vision quest in Death Valley. Four days on a mountain with no food under a full moon. I went in to reawaken my intuition - the creative, feeling side I'd buried under years of optimization. I came out having drawn a line: a conscious rite of passage from boy to man. The kind modern society doesn't provide. The spiritual path opened and never closed.

Then came Burning Man, sound healing ceremonies, twelve years of contemplative practice. I eventually hit the direct realization of anatta - no self - in October 2025, after speed-running what most traditions consider a lifetime of work.

The edge I'm working now isn't on a cushion. It's in staying present when I can feel everything someone else is going through and every instinct says disconnect. I spent years as a lone wolf. The practice now is intimacy - with my wife, my daughters, the people in my life. Sometimes the growth is blissful. Sometimes it's brutal. I stay either way.

I still run companies. CEO of Tabs. I acquire and operate businesses through Quintessential Ventures. I'm building an AI-augmented life where thinking is the bottleneck, not doing. I live in Los Angeles with my wife Alina and our two daughters.

Most spiritual entrepreneurs are full of shit. I'm trying not to be.