MindLab is infrastructure for people who are done drifting.

It’s a system that holds your identity, vision, life domains, goals, actions, journal, and knowledge base in one place — connected top to bottom — so you stop re-deciding what your life is about every morning and start executing against an aim that actually pulls you forward.

For builders, it’s a personal operating system with coaching built in. For coaches, it’s infrastructure that makes client progress visible between sessions — a CRM for progress, not leads.

I built it because I needed it. I still use it every day.

A book I didn’t read. A man I didn’t appreciate until too late.

My dad gave me The Mental Game of Baseball when I was 15. I told him I read it. I didn’t.

He was almost 50 when I was born. While my friends’ dads were sliding BMWs around parking lots, mine was building a batting cage out of 2x4s and fishing net in the backyard. I wished he was cooler. I didn’t realize what I had.

Years later — my sport falling apart, nearly losing the woman who’d become my wife, staring at the end of a road I’d taken for granted — a coach handed me a different book. That one I read. It cracked something open: the mental game isn’t just baseball. It’s everything.

I learned to stop ceding agency. To have an intentional sequence for focus. To show up to pressure moments on purpose instead of praying they’d end.

Conference champions — the mental game, applied

Then my dad got sick. Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. Two and a half years as his roommate and caregiver, watching the most disciplined man I knew get weaker by the month. When his heart gave out in January 2019, I was still professionally doing what he called “piece-work” — scattered, building planes while flying them.

What he gave me wasn’t a book. It was the conditions for becoming: structure for growth, encouragement to dare, and support regardless of outcome.

MindLab is my attempt to systematize what he built naturally. Not the love — you can’t systematize that. But the structure. The visibility. The architecture that holds when motivation fails.

Effort without architecture is just faster drowning.

After baseball, I fell into CRM consulting — Salesforce, HubSpot, LightningStep. Helping businesses operate on clean data across multiple systems. I’m good at it. It pays the bills.

But here’s what I noticed from the inside: the attention economy is an extraction machine. Every platform, every feed, every notification is engineered to capture your focus and sell it to someone else. Social media, gambling apps, algorithmic content — they’re selling you the simulation of aliveness while making you more passive.

And the self-help industry? It sells ideas about changing. Books. Courses. Frameworks. They’re great at inspiration. Terrible at implementation. The insight evaporates by Tuesday because there’s nothing holding it.

I saw the same pattern everywhere: people who know what they should do, can’t figure out how to sustain doing it. Not because they’re lazy. Because they have no infrastructure.

So I built it. First for myself. Then for coaches who needed it for their clients. Now for anyone who’s done with drift and ready for aim.

Two things, connected by the same belief.

Meaning over nihilism. Architecture over motivation. Specificity over abstraction.

One helps businesses operate with clarity. The other helps people live with it. Both are about making the invisible visible.

Most people don’t need more information. They need architecture.

You’ve read enough books. You’ve listened to enough podcasts. You don’t have a knowledge problem. You have an implementation problem.

MindLab exists because self-help stops at inspiration and most coaching evaporates between sessions. The gap isn’t knowing what to do. It’s having a system that holds what you know, connects it to what you’re doing, and makes your progress visible — to you, and optionally, to a coach who can help you see what you can’t.

Motivation isn’t reliable. Architecture is.

The daily practice is 5 minutes. The system holds the complexity. You just show up.

Writing & podcast

I write about what I’m learning, what I’m building, and the mental game underneath both. No polished guru story from the other side — real-time dispatches from inside the work.

I’m not a guru. I’m a builder
documenting the escape in real time.

CRM consultant. Father of three. MindLab coach. 1,200+ days into a daily practice that started because I was tired of drifting through my own life.

Architecture over motivation · Meaning over nihilism · Specificity over abstraction

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