Modernity has consumed the porch. We have more information than ever, yet we are more lost than ever because the "generational detail" has been stripped away. You are expected to arrive at a pinpoint destination using a low-resolution map.

A Sherpa is the solution to the missing porch. A Sherpa is not an expert sitting in a high tower or a clinician diagnosing your brokenness. A Sherpa is a navigator who has wandered the field long enough to have earned the scars that turn a high-level map into a pinpoint guide. A Sherpa’s role is to provide the outside perspective and the dialed-in wisdom you need to navigate the ground beneath your feet. Sherpas don’t fix the explorer; they point out what’s not on the map.

My path to the porch was not a straight line; it was a relentless, often painful, search for the "Next Right Step."

I grew up in a broken home, caught between an overbearing mother and a disengaged father. Very early on, I was forced to figure life out on my own. My childhood taught me a singular, heavy lesson: Life is a problem that needs fixing.

I moved out two months after I turned 18, lived in my car for a year, and eventually joined the Navy as a nuclear engineer. At the time, I thought money was the solution to the problem of life. But within a few years, the money only made things worse. I descended into a drinking problem, drug use, and a desperate need for validation that led me to objectify women and treat them as tools for my own ego. I was a shamble of a human being, hiding behind anything I could find.

My major turning point was a spiritual awakening. I returned to my faith and realized it was the foundation I had been missing. I poured my life into that truth, eventually serving as a missionary to India for several years. But even as things got "good," I still felt I wasn't quite "there" yet. I thought starting a family would be the fullest expression of life.

I got married and had two kids quickly, but I spent the next decade desperately seeking the "rules for success" as a husband and father. I was following every map I could find, yet I knew deep down my wife wasn't fulfilled and my kids were struggling. Eventually, I broke. I stopped trying to force my life to fit the rules and started shifting toward principles and the "unwritten" wisdom of the field.

I collected countless maps and accolades through years of nuclear engineering, earning a Master’s in business, operating small businesses, and leading in large organizations. After everything stabilized and the feeling of waiting on arrival began to fade, I realized that the wisdom I had to earn with my scars used to be handed down generationally on the porch. I have sought the counsel of pastors and elders, participated in various counseling practices, and relentlessly tested hypotheses in the real world.

I am not the only man suffering in success. I built The Threshold because I want to devote my time to where it will have the biggest impact: rebuilding the foundations of authentic masculinity. I am here to ensure that future generations of men never have to wander the wilderness as long as I did just to find the path home.