Future of Work
Pioneer

I'm what the digital nomad world calls a "slowmad"—someone who rejects the blur of city-hopping for something deeper. Over 15 countries and counting (65 visited total), I've learned that staying 3-6 months in one place reveals what two weeks never could. The slowmad approach isn't about collecting passport stamps. It's about building relationships with baristas, understanding why locals laugh at certain jokes, and watching seasons change from the same coffee shop window.

Vietnam captured me during COVID-19 when the world stopped moving. What started as necessity became revelation. The country's blend of ancient tradition and startup energy, its café culture where $2 coffee comes with hours of unrushed conversation, its acceptance of the remote work lifestyle before it had a name—Vietnam showed me that location independence works best when you actually commit to a location.

Luna, my dog, keeps me grounded. In a life built on flexibility, she's the constant. We've navigated new cities together, and she's mastered the art of remote work before most humans—sleeping through video calls, demanding walks at lunch, reminding me that the best productivity hack is sometimes just stepping outside.

Tennis and surfing taught me the same lesson from different angles: you can't force the outcome, only position yourself for the opportunity. On the court, I've found that the rhythm of a rally mirrors the pattern-matching work I do with AI systems—anticipate, adjust, respond. In the water, waiting for waves builds the patience that makes good remote work great. Both sports demand presence, which is exactly what screens want to steal.

History books are my escape and my teacher. Reading about how societies navigated previous technological revolutions—printing press, telegraph, assembly line—provides perspective when clients panic about AI. The patterns repeat. The fears echo. But humans adapt, always. Right now I'm deep into how remote work isn't new (medieval scribes, lighthouse keepers, telegraph operators all worked remotely), which makes our current "transformation" feel less like chaos and more like homecoming.

DJing is pure flow state. Mixing beats requires the same skills as building AI workflows—reading the room, maintaining momentum, knowing when to introduce something unexpected. There's a reason both DJs and knowledge workers call it "sets." You're creating an experience from modular parts, watching for the moment when separate elements become something greater. Plus, it's the only time I'm not thinking about work, which paradoxically makes me better at work.