The Choices I Made Which Have Led to an interesting life

Welcome to my Substack and happy 2026!

For most of my life, I’ve kept small personal blogs, a space to dream and reflect. It’s funny, these little personal blogs have fundamentally changed my life in different ways each time. One of my first blogs, The Music Villa (great name, right?) was really just me posting songs before Spotify Radio, back when you had to make playlists for your friends, rip music from your cousin’s MP3 library, and spend hours surfing the music blogs. To me, The Music Villa was really just a way for me to share the songs I found in batches with my friends, but over time, it formed a way for people to know me. They could hear the songs I posted, read the made-up scenarios I wrote about in which you could hypothetically find yourself listening to the songs, and, as they scrolled my blog, the reader was pulled deeply into not just the words of my life but the musical experience. Thinking way back, I think most of my relationships or girlfriends started because I was able to communicate through one of my little music blogs; it was a doorway, one I enjoyed opening.

All that to say, it’s great to have you here. I think I’ve 2x or 3x’d my subscriber count here on my Substack recently, and I’d like you to feel like you know me, or at least a small part of me. This is my re-introduction, and welcome to the folks who have joined me through my blog. I’m John, and I spend much of my life following my curiosity, resisting the destiny that seems to be predetermined through societal norms, personal self-constructions, and familiar structures. It was at age 17 that I read Rolf Potts’s Vagabonding, as well as Tim Ferriss’s The 4-Hour Workweek. Both books taught me something fundamental about life, that the structures you’re presented with are not the structures that you must maintain, nor are they freedom, often far from it. I took Rolf’s advice to heart and I’ve solo-traveled many months a year for the last 12 years, sleeping in both penthouses and train stations. Many nights, I have no fixed place to sleep when I wake up, selecting my destination at the same time that it selects me, looking left then right, finding a hostel, hotel, back seat, or motel, and calling it a night.

Every day is different, and each night, a chance to start anew. I’ve spent my time exploring, looking for the extremes of both emotion and experience. Frequently, my months involve me spending half my time in boardrooms around the world, hosting both American and foreign diplomats, meeting with other global CEOs, working with AI/ML founders on everything from how to sell their companies to using American AI assets to deepen bilateral nation-state relationships. The following days, I often rent a truck, drive 500 miles, and sleep in a remote national park.

This creates a variety of experience for me, often spending hours listening to country music on the road, only to swap it out for The Economist and a phone call with a founder about how to structure their upcoming financing.

This is a life I’ve enjoyed, one that in the last year has brought me to a hostel in rural Guatemala, waking up among the shadow of two massive volcanoes.

Not long before that, I was driving 104 mph on the Salt Flats in Utah in a rented pickup, crossing the American West with a close friend from Finland, then dropping him off and picking up my father, where we added another 4,000 miles across America and Canada.

I’ve attended the United Nations General Assembly meetings, served as a core participant in the global AI discourse, and led delegations of American AI CEOs across the GCC. I’ve pitched a multi-billion-dollar fund, then spent the following weeks exploring rural Central America alone, using my broken Spanish to negotiate for clean healthcare supplies and antibiotics as I fell very ill while traveling.

I’ve spent nights hijacking jukeboxes in pool halls and playing Waylon Jennings on repeat and riding my bicycle through the empty late-night streets of Washington, DC, only to wake up and spend three hours in the gym the next morning, taking calls between sets and talking founders through whatever the issue of the day is.

It was this year that the world seemed to open up for me, nearly proportional to how I changed my self-concept and personal mission. This year, 2026, I don’t know where I’ll land, but I do know that if I’m not enjoying it, I’ll be ready to take the step to find a new adventure. I’m now hiring the best folks I meet, raising capital to employ them, and attempting to amass power for the sake of change. I have a change I want to see in the world I live in. I don’t see why I can’t be the one to make that change, and I just might be sane/crazy enough to pull it off.

Our society has recently closed the door on too many people seeking a better life, putting profits above the livelihoods of our neighbors. My goal is to try to find a way to hold the door open for those around me. How I do that, I’m not exactly sure, but I know that the fight for a better life is one worth fighting, and that’s why I’ll push myself again this year. I believe that with a better platform, more capital, and the force that comes with that, I can hold the door open for those around me, just like the door was open for my grandfather, the Mexican immigrant who made a life here in America. My grandfather contributed to his community daily and expanded his definition of family to a wide-ranging idea that included nearly everyone who was open to him. This year, there will be deals that go bad, people I learn that I should not trust or do business with again, and there will be those that prove me right—that it is worth taking the shot in believing in those around you and expanding your definition of family. I’m excited for a big 2026, and I hope you’re excited to be part of that ride with me.

Please enjoy this song, Saltwater by Geowulf, a classic beach-synth rocker, bringing in the flavors of both sunlight and an endless rolling melody. You can easily see yourself deep in the Costa Rican waves, bumming down the coast in a small beat-up surf van, exploring each coastline anew, stopping for roadside tacos, and riding the waves of both life and the water with a few close friends.

Happy 2026 - John

(PS I’m running an experiment: you know how people go “oh there’s someone you should meet”…I want to turn that into an actionable moment, so if there’s someone you think I should meet, let me know!)

Please Enjoy A Small Slideshow Of The Last Year!