The Ask I've Been Avoiding
Early this morning I received the final email with all the details. Costs. Permits. The full picture of what it takes to make this real.
After a very serious and heavy dose of anxiety, I started moving. The same anxiety I felt the first time I got on the ice two years ago. All the negative thoughts came up. You can't do this. Who do you think you are? But eventually, you have to start moving. So I got the donation form up and running. Wrote this email. Because sometimes the only way through fear is action.
Now I've finally confirmed that I need to raise €6,250 by January 31 and the rest by March to lock in the guides, permits, and logistics to make this happen. Miss that deadline, and this gets pushed back a year. That's the reality of polar expedition deadlines. After three years of preparation, waiting another twelve months isn't just inconvenient. It cuts deep.
I've never been good at asking for help. It's uncomfortable. It feels vulnerable. It goes against everything I've built my identity around. But I'm learning that doing the work still matters - that part's non-negotiable - but you can't do these things in isolation. Asking while doing the work isn't weakness. It's part of the journey. The human part. The part where you realize you can't do extraordinary things alone.
If you feel I've added value over the years through coaching, expeditions, or writing that made you think, it would mean everything if you could help me get to this start line. Not because I deserve it, but because I've put my money where my mouth is and now I need support to finish what I started.
I believe wisdom and knowledge come from the extremes of the human experience. That's where growth happens. Where you learn what you're actually made of. Not in the comfortable middle, but at the edges where hands shake and doubts whisper and you have to decide if you're going to keep moving anyway.
That's where I'm headed.
I'm turning 50 next week Thursday. I'm crossing Greenland's ice sheet in May. 28 days. 540 kilometers. My white whale. Three years I've been building toward this. I'm petrified of it. But I'm all-in anyway.
You probably know I've done two Arctic expeditions to Svalbard over the last two years. Absolutely amazing. But they were required to even apply for a Greenland crossing. I had to prove I could handle polar conditions first, mentally and physically. I had to earn the right to attempt this.
I've invested nearly €8,000 in those training expeditions, gear, months of preparation. Some from my own pocket. Some from people who believed in me early on. The gratitude I have for that support is something I can't explain. Because without it, even those required Svalbard expeditions wouldn't have been possible. This hasn't been a short journey. It's been a long time coming.
Some of you have already stepped up. Thank you. That support means everything.
And just to be clear: this is not a supported crossing. It's a small group, fully self-sustained. No motorized assistance. No dogs. No resupply drops. Just us, our sleds, and the ice.
This isn't just about me getting on ice.
It's about proving I actually live what I teach. That you can face what scares you. That preparation plus commitment plus asking for help equals something real. When I return from that ice, those lessons become part of everything I build next. Courses. Coaching manuals. Keynote presentations. I'm already doing keynotes, but I'm looking for new content to bring as much real-world value as possible from the edge of the world. Not polished corporate content. Real lessons from 28 days on Greenland's ice sheet. Raw moments. Failures. How I handled doubt. How I kept moving.
You're not just funding a trip. You're investing in a real-life story that unfolds over the next few years. In a world of curated content and polished narratives, you're part of something actually lived. Actually documented. Actually transformational.
I've put together a complete breakdown of the project, the costs, and what comes next. You can read it and donate here: Help Me Finish Greenland
I also created a PDF with all the info that you can find, and share here.
Every amount counts. €10 is meaningful. €50 is meaningful. €250 changes the game. Give what makes sense for you. If you can't donate but have equipment or can help with flights or logistics, reach out. And if you can't help directly, sharing this with someone who might believe in it matters just as much. Community isn't just financial.
The deadline is real. January 31 for the first payment. March for the rest. After that, the guide team moves on. The slot gets filled by someone else. The money I've already invested doesn't come back.
Three weeks left.
Thank you for reading this. For being part of this journey. For sitting with me in the uncomfortable truth that asking for help is one of the hardest lessons I've learned. It's a lesson I've told my coaching clients they need to learn. Turns out I needed to learn it too.
Full circle.