I will hold you to what matters.

Ten years ago, a Lithuanian angel investor—the guy rumored to be the region's Jack Dorsey—asked my twenty-six-year-old self to fly to Vilnius and build a startup from scratch.

I had no business saying yes.

But I showed up, closed a seed round, put my own money on the line, and built the thing. I spent the next three years learning the hard way that execution eats strategy for breakfast, and that most startups don’t die from competition. They fail from the inside.

The startup didn’t survive. But I did. And I kept the autopsy results.

Since then, I’ve operated as a high-leverage generalist. I went on to build three more businesses and solve expensive problems in weird places.

To date, I've convinced traditional farmers to trust algorithms, dragged enterprises kicking and screaming into the digital age, taught advertising while secretly hating advertising, and worked on a U.S. defense project that I absolutely cannot discuss here.

By late 2024, I hit the wall. Hard. After three years of scaling a business for others, I was met with a betrayal that pushed me into the void.

That crash became my curriculum.

When I crawled out, I didn't go back to building revenue models. I went deeper. I pivoted to the source code: the human mind.

I geeked out on neuroscience and presence-based coaching, looking for the mechanics behind the transformation. Along the way, I stopped building products and started building scaffolding for leaders.

I fell in love with the depth of coaching. The radical honesty. The specific type of silence that happens right before a breakthrough. I realized I was built for it. And I am so grateful I get to do this for living.

The Common Thread? Whether it’s a farm, a fortress, or a Series A startup, the bottleneck is rarely the tech. It’s the person’s capacity to handle chaos.

Now, I run Super Basecamp. It's not a bootcamp (we don't shout). It's not therapy (we don't dwell). It is the designated space where first-time leaders stop pretending they have it all figured out.

If you just became responsible for other people’s livelihoods, or—brace yourself—just put #leader in your LinkedIn bio and realized you have no idea what comes next... let's talk.

Godspeed.