I remember the first time I went to Somerset Hills Country Club in New Jersey. My family back East belonged. We lived across the country and obviously did not.

I observed my cousins who grew up in this environment. They were around 10 years old, same as me, but walked around like they owned the place. Seamlessly moving from pool to tennis court to changing appropriately for the clubhouse—where they’d order as many Shirley Temples as they desired. 

I couldn’t believe it. Conversely, I questioned everything I was doing. Was I dressed ok? Was I allowed to order a drink? I felt out of place; anxious. Back then, even the thought of me picking up a golf club seemed unlikely. Belonging to any country club seemed like a pipe dream. 

I experienced this often growing up—moving through the world slightly anxious and out of place. 

Today, I’m as comfortable at a club as I am in my living room. I feel at ease whether mingling with CEOs at The Masters or the gas station attendant in the Mississippi Delta. 

Repeated immersion—in rooms, cultures, and environments I didn’t yet belong in—eventually gave way to an earned ease. 

But it took decades of intentional, difficult work to make it look effortless.

To feel composed. Unhurried. Comfortable in my own skin—on the course, at a dive bar with truckers, and in conversation with people from all corners of the world and walks of life. 

That ease wasn’t natural. It was earned.

—

We’ve spent the last decade chasing visible advantages—optimization, performance, hacks.

But the biggest advantage in the next decade will be something far quieter:

A clear mind.

Because in the land of the “blind”—overstimulated, reactive, and chasing outcomes…
The man with one “eye”—a clear mind—becomes king.

He sees opportunities where others see chaos and despair.
He knows himself, and what he wants out of life, so he moves with intention.
He adapts seamlessly to change and solves complex problems. 

Today, the average person spends their days buried in social media. Offloading their point of view, tastes, and—ultimately—themselves to the algorithm. It creates a vicious cycle of comparing yourself to others and a loss of agency.

The old playbook for success is long gone. Technology, commerce, and culture move at an unprecedented speed. Accumulated stress shakes the ground which once felt stable. 

So the key to winning in the next decade: staying sane in insane times. Living with a clear mind and certain ease. 

—

Ease, in this sense, isn’t comfort or loafing. It’s not the convenience of Uber Eats. 

It’s what happens after years of reps.
After enough exposure to pressure, rooms, people, stakes.
After you’ve been there before—enough times that nothing feels entirely new.

For some, this is inherited early. Families spoon feed them the institutions, environments, and social groups that instill it—which continues to compound over time.

For others, like me, it’s built the hard way.

Through experience. Through discomfort. Through choosing to step into rooms where you don’t yet belong.

—

The irony is this: those who perform best care the least about the outcome.

Not because they’re indifferent—but because they’re grounded.

Clear mind comes first.
Ease follows.

And once you have it, it’s very difficult to take it away.

Shamus Kahn wrote a masterpiece about the elite boarding school St. Paul’s, where he was once a student and later taught. 

In his 2012 book, Privilege: The Making of an Adolescent Elite at St. Paul’s School, he highlights the key distinctions which prepare students for an upper class life. 

These are not the popped collar elites you may imagine. Nor the elites of the past who built their worlds around the “right” breeding, connections, and culture. 

Rather, refined tastes and “who you know” are deemphasized and instead placed on how you act in and approach the world—students cultivate a sense of how to carry themselves. 

And it’s this practice which Khan aptly terms the ease of privilege: an acquired set of skills and behavior that allows one to move with ease across very different contexts, including those with people possessing less money, power, and privilege.

It’s not only the presumption that one belongs everywhere, but that presumption paired with the actual ability to adapt well in an exceptionally broad range of environments.

The difference starts early.

Students at St. Paul’s spend far more time around adults—teachers, coaches, mentors—than your typical teenager. Learning how to navigate relationships, expectations, and authority.

They’re immersed in environments most only encounter later in life, if at all. Formal dinners. Conversations with world-famous economists and artists in a small lecture room. Rituals that initially feel unnatural, but over time become second nature.

They learn how to carry themselves in a wide range of settings—when to speak, when to listen, how to adjust. Not as a performance, but as instinct.

Over time, this becomes physical. Embedded. They don’t think about how to act—they simply know.

The real advantage isn’t status.

It’s fluency and ease in all situations.

READ: THE MAKING OF AN ADOLESCENT ELITE AT ST. PAUL’S SCHOOL →

ANALYSIS ON KHAN’S BOOK (EMINENT AMERICANS SUBSTACK) →

As we explored recently in ‘Rick Rubin is the Future of Work,’ the real edge isn’t doing more—it’s seeing clearly. A masterful taste, touch, and conviction that can’t be replicated.  

Most people today are building the opposite of a clear mind. 

Constant inputs. Hijacked attention. Perpetual anxiety disguised as productivity. 

The result isn’t just burnout—it’s deteriorating mental health, no knowledge of who you are, and existential dread. 

A clear mind, in contrast, is becoming rarer and more valuable. 

Before mastering AI tools, master your mental shape. 

This piece teaches you how to build the mental shape that forms a construction layer everything else is built on. Those with a clear mind tend to make better decisions, make better partners, and believe they’re capable of achieving big things. Because they are—and in the decade ahead, that advantage will only compound. 

DISCOVER: HOW TO BUILD A CLEAR MIND & UNFAIR ADVANTAGE (BOSS) →

I recently wrote for Juniper & James—the best golf apparel brand to come out of the South in years. 

When we started chatting, it quickly became clear that we share a similar philosophy on golf. We view the game as a way to get closer—to people, nature, and ourselves. We believe in playing golf, and living life, in rhythm instead of optimization culture. 

I wrote this piece to capture that shared ethos, why we love the game, and what it means to find rhythm. 

Rhythm, more than anything, requires a clear mind. You can’t force it. And golfers know that better than anyone. 

Just ask Scottie Scheffler. The dominant world #1 who focuses on process and prioritizes family and faith over tournament outcomes. As Scottie put it, “winning itself does not provide ultimate fulfillment or define his purpose.” 

Excited to continue writing for J&J. Look for more pieces coming soon. And highly recommend checking these guys out with golf season heating up.

READ: “FINDING RHYTHM” ON JUNIPER & JAMES JOURNAL →

Emotional grounding, traditions, and where ease actually comes from.

The South Carolina lowcountry has been close to my heart from an early age. I can still remember driving out to the sea islands near Beaufort to stay at my uncle’s beach house. The deep connection I felt to the spanish moss, palmettos, and the salt marsh. 

I remember they loved the writer Pat Conroy, who wrote The Prince of Tides. Conroy was from the area and lived on the same island as my uncle. 

I maintained the connection to the lowcountry throughout my life. Returning on college breaks, long weekends, and holidays. Ultimately deciding to get married there six years ago. 

My wedding was special for so many reasons. It was also the last time I saw my brother—a memory I've come to hold onto more than I expected. 

I remember us having a wonderful conversation on the dock that night. Staring off into the dark sky illuminated by the crescent moon as the cicadas chirped. 

As I looked out at the water, a scene from Prince of Tides came to mind. A book largely about family trauma, love, the lowcountry, and healing. 

In the scene, the three siblings hold hands and jump together in the water. A childhood memory which symbolizes their bond and a necessary ritual of escape from their home life. 

Not all ease is built in upper class institutions. It often comes from the rituals that keep us connected to place, people, and what we love. Those rituals create grounding. Grounding creates clarity. These experiences build quiet confidence and, sometimes, they’re all we have. 

This piece on tradition and passing down Conroy’s classic, dear to the heart of all who love the South Carolina lowcountry, reminded me of why we keep those traditions—and why I brought my son out there for the first time last Memorial Day. 

READ: PASSING DOWN THE PRINCE OF TIDES (GARDEN & GUN) →

WATCH: PRINCE OF TIDES OPENING SCENE (YOUTUBE) →

“The Audacity“— an ambitious, dark satire of Silicon Valley feels like a return to prestige TV’s golden age.

Creator Jonathan Glazer, an alum of “Succession” and “Mad Men,” offers an astute window into the psychology of Silicon Valley scions. 

But its tone is much harsher and darker than the spoof of HBO’s “Silicon Valley.” The tech universe has also evolved much since the days of Owen Wilson’s “internship” at Google.  

“The Audacity” distinguishes itself by exploring the modern tech world from unexpected angles—starting with its therapists.

TRAILER: “THE AUDACITY” ON AMC (YOUTUBE) →

Where to watch: AMC+ or streamed on TikTok in 20-minute increments

A modern Southern sporting uniform—built for rhythm with thoughtful details such as microfiber cloth pockets and cooling fabrics for the heat. 

SHOP: JUNIPER & JAMES - THE SOUTHERN SPORTING UNIFORM →

Conroy’s classic on place, memory, and the ties that shape us—whether we like it or not. 

BOOK: THE PRINCE OF TIDES BY PAT CONROY →

A look inside how ease is taught, absorbed, and quietly turned into an advantage maintained by the American upper class. 

BOOK: "THE MAKING OF AN ADOLESCENT ELITE AT ST. PAUL’S SCHOOL" BY SHAMUS KHAN →

Written from the American South.