That Adventure You're Not Taking

A beekeeper's dream, your business, and the mountains we pretend not to see

Ooph.

Ever notice how your biggest dreams have a way of showing up at the most inconvenient moments?

Like when you're knee-deep in success. When everything is "working." When you've finally figured out the game.

That's when it happens.

A whisper. A tug. An invitation.

And suddenly the life you've built with such care starts feeling like a beautiful cage.

I've been sitting with this tension lately. Rolling it around in my mind.

It reminds me of a beekeeper in New Zealand who couldn't stop staring at mountains.

Edmund Hillary.

Not the Hillary of history books. Not the conqueror of Everest.

But the man before all that. The one who had to explain to his family of beekeepers why he couldn't stop dreaming about climbing.

Here's what haunts me about his story:

He had every reason to stay put. To tend his bees. To follow the path carved by generations before him.

But mountains have a way of changing the geometry of dreams.

They stand there. Silent. Patient. Waiting.

Until one day, the voice of "what if" becomes louder than the voice of "should."

I see this same pattern play out in conversations with aspiring entrepreneurs all the time.

We're sitting there, ostensibly talking about marketing strategies or growth metrics about our Substack. But underneath? There's this current. This pulse. This knowing.

Something bigger is calling.

And it's terrifying.

Because answering that call?

It means leaving the honey-sweet certainty of what's working. It means stepping into spaces where your current expertise means nothing. It means becoming someone new.

I know this dance.

My consulting business was humming. Multiple six figures monthly. "Dream" clients. All the external markers of success.

But success, it turns out, can be its own kind of cage.

Golden. Comfortable. But still a cage.

Here's what stops me cold about Hillary's journey:

He didn't start by trying to climb Everest.

He started by simply admitting to himself that mountains moved him.

That changed everything.

Because once you acknowledge what moves you - really moves you - the old excuses start to sound hollow:

"I'm not ready." (Neither was he.)

"I don't have the right background." (Neither did he.)

"It makes no logical sense." (It rarely does.)

What if - and stay with me here - what if those very things we see as limitations are actually preparation for what's next?

Think about it.

What did Hillary learn from bees that served him on Everest? Patience. Precision. The power of small, consistent actions. The art of working with nature rather than against it.

Your supposed limitations might be exactly the perspective your next chapter needs.

But here's the part that catches in my throat:

When asked why he wanted to climb Everest, Hillary didn't launch into justifications or five-year plans.

He simply said, "Because it's there."

Sometimes truth needs no defense beyond the persistent ache in our hearts.

What's your Everest?

What's calling you beyond the comfortable boundaries of your current success?

Maybe it's:

• That revolutionary program you've been secretly sketching out at 2am

• The business model that breaks all the "rules" but feels deeply right

• The community you know needs to exist in the world

• The message that feels too big to speak (yet)

Notice what happens in your body as you read those words.

That flutter in your chest? That catch in your throat? That mix of excitement and terror?

That's your compass pointing true north.

Here's what I'm learning: The dreams that scare us most are often the ones we're most ready for.

Not because we have it all figured out. Not because success is guaranteed. But because they're big enough to require us to become more than we are.

The world doesn't need more beekeepers pretending they don't hear mountains calling.

It needs more of us willing to let our dreams remake us.

What mountain are you pretending not to see?

With possibility,

Phil

P.S. If you're feeling that persistent call toward something bigger, you don't have to navigate it alone. That's exactly why we created Sacred Growth Club - a community of entrepreneurs supporting each other as we step into our fuller expression. Learn more here.