I was born with a learning disability. While my friends eagerly devoured their beginner readers, I sat in the corner coloring. Even then, I couldn’t keep my crayon marks between the lines.
My school noticed the problem immediately. In kindergarten, I was always the last one to reach the playground. While everyone else slipped on their shoes and ran outside, I sat there, struggling to remember how to tie my laces.
Neuropsychological testing revealed that I was of average intelligence—not below. But I struggled with visuospatial orientation and reasoning. I was anxious, my memory faltered repeatedly, and I was consistently underperforming compared to my peers.
Then, several life-changing events happened all at once. My father died suddenly of a cerebral aneurysm while rounding at the hospital. One moment he was with us, complaining of a severe headache; the next, he was brain dead.
At the same time, unbeknownst to me, my parents had placed an offer on a new house in a neighboring Chicago suburb. They’d planned to hold me back a year in school and believed staying in the same district would be too disruptive. They were moving—for me.
After my father’s death, something miraculous happened. My reading improved. My teacher began placing book after book in front of me, and for the first time in my life, I read. Faster and faster, the words poured out of my mouth. My classmates paused their own reading to watch me in awe.
It would still take years for me to catch up. In high school, I wavered between A’s and B’s. By college, I had become a near-perfect student and eventually made it to medical school.
For these reasons, writing a book feels not only like a Herculean feat but also like the achievement of a lifetime. I was never supposed to read, let alone craft sentences into something logical and appealing. I was never supposed to be a doctor, a poet, or a writer.
Yet here I stand, writing these words for you.
The years of work, the incredible circumstances, and the relentless striving that brought me here—to this moment, as the author of The Purpose Code—are difficult to express. How can I distill a lifetime of yearning, failure, triumph, and self-discovery into words that convey what this book means?
My book delves deeply into building a life of purpose. But if the words themselves don’t resonate, I offer my life as an example. This is me, on purpose. This book represents everything I’ve worked toward my entire life: living intentionally and becoming the person I want to be by doing the things that define that identity.
This book is the closest expression of my pure, unadorned self. When you buy it, you’re buying a piece of me.
So here it is—the hard sell. I’m asking each of you to buy at least one copy now during presales. I know it’s a big ask. I know you come here for ideas, not products. And I know I’ve crossed into the realm of self-promotion.
Guilty as charged.
But if I want to continue on this path as a traditionally published author, I need to sell—a lot of books. Not for money, but for the prestige and momentum necessary to secure the next manuscript.
As a thank-you for your support, I’m offering a few bonuses for those who buy multiple copies:
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5 copies: A free one-hour coaching session (a $350 value).
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25 copies: A virtual presentation on purpose for your book club or community (a $5,000 value).
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100 copies: An in-person presentation and Q&A session (you cover travel and accommodations, a $10,000 value).
I’m also looking to fund free copies of my book for attendees at my favorite financial independence conference, CampFI. If you’re interested in donating $100 or more, please reach out to me directly.
Thank you for supporting my journey. This book is more than a project; it’s a testament to what’s possible when we live with purpose.
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