When the plan changes for the better

I am almost ninety days into this new venture, and the honest truth is that I have barely been home for most of it. Elk camp, Lake Powell, Boss Babes, and now this long mule deer hunt. At first I kept thinking, how am I supposed to get something new off the ground when I am never in my office, never in my routines, never fully settled. Starting something usually looks like structure and discipline and consistency, but the last ninety days have looked like wide open spaces, long drives, and a lot of miles on my boots.

Somewhere along the way, that stopped feeling like a problem. I look back now and I am grateful. The space gave me room to breathe and to loosen my grip on what I thought hyLINE was supposed to be. If I had been home every day trying to force this thing into a neat little box, I probably would have built a continuation of what I had been doing before. The safe version. The familiar version. The version I know how to produce but do not actually enjoy.

Instead, I had time and distance. And with it came clarity. Sometimes you lay out your plans and they work exactly how you imagined. And sometimes you lay out your plans and God gently redirects you. Not away from the dream, but toward a better path to get there. The work has been finding me in unexpected places. The right conversations. The right clients. The right projects. None of it forced. None of it hustled into existence. All of it aligned.

Now I can say with confidence that I am building hyLINE with the intention to support the people who are trying to make a difference. The small business owners. The nonprofit founders. The dreamers with a mission. The ones who care more about impact than hustle. The people who want their work to matter in a way that feels good on the inside, not just impressive on the outside. This is the work that feels like home.

If you are in a season where your plans are not playing out the way you expected, maybe it is not failure. Maybe it is protection or redirection. Maybe the spaciousness is not an inconvenience but an invitation. Sometimes the best things come when you loosen your grip and let your life shift you toward what you actually want.

Thank you for being here. I am excited for what we are building, even if the path looks different than I imagined.