I spent the first 6 years of building my company convinced that pushing harder meant I was doing it right. The revenue was growing. The clients were big deal. The business was expanding. From the outside, everything looked like success. On the inside, I was lonely, isolated, barely sleeping, barely eating and I had no idea how to say that out loud. I had tied my worth so completely to my output that I didn't know who I was without it. Eventually, I hit a wall I couldn't push through. I attempted to end my life. I got help and what happened next changed everything. I entered the Living Centered Program at Onsite Workshops in late January of 2015. The first few days felt kind of like a joke because I was still holding on to my ego and felt so much pressure being away from my work. But on day 4, I found myself on the floor of a room, coloring. No agenda, no output, no performance. Just me and some crayons and a roll of paper. And in that moment, I found my way back to a version of myself I had completely forgotten, not the kid who was afraid or just surviving, but the kid who imagined greatly, felt deeply, created freely, and explored without limits. Kid Adam. The day I reconciled with him was the day everything started to make sense again.
A 60-second intro.
The short version — who I am, what I talk about, and what audiences walk away with.
What I do. Why I do it.
I speak to organizations, teams, and leaders about what happens when we stop playing — and what becomes possible when we start again. That's the short version. Here's the longer one.
I spent 17 years building a company from nothing. And I mean nothing — I started $350 overdrawn in 2008, in the middle of a recession, with no investors, no partners, and no family to fall back on if it didn't work. I grew it into a multi-million dollar company, worked with brands and clients I never imagined, and learned more about leadership, failure, and what it means to build something real than any classroom could have taught me. I sold that company in 2025.
What those 17 years also taught me is that building something can slowly take you apart if you're not paying attention. And I wasn't paying attention. That's where the speaking work comes from — not from theory, but from experience. When I talk about play, burnout, identity, and reconnection, I'm not pulling from a textbook. I'm pulling from a life that almost ended because I forgot who I was outside of what I built.
But speaking is only one part of what I do.
I'm also building Cavehouse Supply — an ecosystem for kids and families. The throughline is the same: help people stay connected to who they are before the world tells them who to be. Through Cavehouse, I'm building StorySpace, a kid-powered storytelling app. I'm creating At The Table, a video series about the conversations that matter. And I'm turning Optimist Adventure Club into community events and experiences that bring families together around creativity, curiosity, and play.
If the speaking work is about helping adults find their way back, Cavehouse is about making sure kids never lose it in the first place.
I also advise and mentor founders — I'm an advisor at the Nashville Entrepreneur Center, a mentor within Vanderbilt University's business program, and I sit on the development committee for Kid S.M.A.R.T., a Nashville-based nonprofit supporting kids through arts and mentorship. I host small entrepreneur communities because I know what it's like to build alone and I don't think anyone should have to.
And outside of all of that — I've toured in bands since I was a teenager. I'm a drummer who jumps into Tuesday night music improv groups in Asheville when I'm home. I hike. I'm an aspiring mountain biker. I love building things with my hands. I do background acting (and once made Nicole Kidman laugh on set). I'm writing a children's picture book and my first nonfiction book. I live in the mountains of Asheville, NC with my partner Kelsey and our pup Otto.
I say all of this because the work isn't separate from the life. The whole point of everything I do — on stage, through Cavehouse, in a mentoring conversation, on a Tuesday night with a drum kit — is the same:
When we stop playing, we stop being ourselves. And I'm not willing to do that anymore.
4 things, non-negotiable.
Play on Purpose
When play disappears, so do creativity, connection, and wonder. Play isn't optional. It's part of being alive. It's reclaiming the most human part of life.
Choose Yourself Every Day
I don't wait for permission anymore. It's the age of less asking and more telling. The things I want most won't arrive because someone picked me. They'll arrive because I decided to start.
Community Is Everything
Almost everything meaningful in my life traces back to people. Relationships come before opportunities. Life is too hard and too beautiful to build alone.
If It's Not An Adventure, I'm Out
The best things in my life started with uncertainty. New ideas, new places, new people, and new experiences will always be worth the risk.
IN THE WILD
THE SHORT OF IT
- 2006Started my first company. Learned more about building real community than any business book could teach.
- 2008Started company number two with -$350 in my bank account. No investors. No safety net. No Plan B.
- 2015Lost myself completely. Found Kid Adam on the floor of a room with some crayons. Everything changed.
- 2018Launched Mind Your Business LABS — a space for entrepreneurs and leaders to get honest about what building actually costs and what it takes to keep going without losing yourself.
- 2022Stopped chasing milestones. Started chasing meaning.
- 2025My second company was acquired after 17 years. Left the country for the first time. Wrote the keynote that became Permission to Play.
- NowBuilding Cavehouse Supply. Speaking everywhere I can. Writing, playing, creating, building. Just getting started.