We were so in the zone on Meg’s ‘Hike it Out’ last week that this is the only picture we took while we walked and talked (and it wasn’t taken intentionally either).

Meg is a formidable solopreneur – she left the corporate world 5 years ago and has been on a whirlwind ride, from building a highly successful coaching practice to a series of community events called @thejoyprojectcoach for women across the world. She’s also a content creator and has a whole host of other services and offerings.

As we set off on our walk, she had a feeling and a sense of the direction she wanted to go – she wanted to pivot her business, but she couldn’t see clearly how to do that.

Meg lives all of her experiences to the fullest and leaned into the strengths that come from an ADHD brain - although she admitted it has contributed to splitting herself across so many sub-brands that all need maintaining – and somewhere in there she had lost herself.

Meg is her brand.

The centre point of everything.

That’s what we unearthed.

She also wants to use everything she’s learned to help others like her, in her own words: ‘if only I had someone like myself help me 5 years ago when I started working for myself’.

Meg needs space to exist, but she’d split herself across so many things; it was unclear where Meg began and her projects ended.

Her creative energy is what she brings to her clients and people she works with, so creating a framework around that means she can feed that fire while having a few clear outputs and more time to create with you.

When you’re heads down building out your offerings, before you know it, 5 years have passed, and you’re trying to maintain a million things; sometimes all you want to do is stop and do something else.

In reality, you need clarity.

Building a legacy like Meg’s means it’s sometimes hard to know how to move forward without bringing everything with you, or, in Meg’s case, accepting what gets left behind to become hyper-specific about what you do.

On the hike, I created the space for Meg to talk it all out, and leaned into my outside perspective and experience to give her permission to let go of what she needs to, to create something even more powerful, where all of her comes together in one place.

One thing I left Meg with was an exercise: I told her to plant her flag in the ground. That flag was a simple objective: by Christmas, can she be earning money with 5 clients in her new proposed business?

This exercise sharpens the mind: It focuses you on what actions you need to take; you live like you’re already doing it.

Immediately, Meg had to make peace with what needed to be left behind, because it wasn’t going to move her closer to the flag.

If Meg’s story resonates with how you are feeling… Let’s take a hike!

See you out there
– Jeff

Further thoughts after Hiking with Meg:

Clarity creates energy: It’s that simple. When you’ve got a clear path, the doing becomes incredibly simple. You fire back up; you want to do the work.

Burnout’s Hidden Signals: ‘I might just sack it off and work in a coffee shop’. No, you don’t. You want a simple life because running your own brand or working in a brand is complex, tiring and fragmented. I realised this is a sign of burnout for myself. When I want to throw away everything I’m doing to pursue a simpler life. But what if the simpler life exists in the thing you’ve created; it just needs some clarity?

Plant your flag Exercise: Try this quick exercise: complete the following sentence related to where you’d like to be in 6 months with your brand, business, life (working in a coffee shop is not an acceptable answer). ‘In 6 months I will…’ There, you’ve planted your flag, now look at all the things you are currently doing, what are those things that will get you there vs what need to be left behind i.e what will you say no to and what will you say yes to. If it’s too lofty or too far out in time, you won’t do it; time can keep you stuck where you are. Plant your flag, and see what happens.

“This is not it! This is not living! I can’t do this anymore!”

I’d finally said it out loud, raw and unprompted, sat round the dinner table with my wife.

“I don’t want to sit behind my f**kin desk one more day!”

That was the only answer I had in that moment.

Unformed, but honest.

My wife was shocked by my sudden outburst, but not at all surprised by what I had said (she already knew I was done with working this way, long before I did).

This came during another round of burnout, this time in the last half of 2025.

My body literally ached from sitting at the desk all day.

There weren’t enough ‘Lofi and Chill’ playlists on Spotify to keep me ‘Lofi and Chill’ while working – I couldn’t handle music with lyrics either, because it was too much to focus on (and I might burst into tears at a hard-hitting line).

Dragging myself to the studio became a daily battle.

Draining the well

The funny thing is, when I’ve been in the middle of a burnout cycle, I double down on work; working more, not less.

At first, I feel invincible, but phrases like ‘you’ve got this’ morph into false hope: ‘I’ve just got to get this project over the line, and things will get better’.

Even heading outside for a hike doesn’t seem compelling.

In the past I’d take a break, maybe a couple of weeks, but once I went back I’d find myself repeating the same cycle over time.

I call it ‘draining the well’.

My visits to the well over the last 10 years became more frequent, until this year, when there was nothing left, not even a drop.

It was time to break the cycle once and for all.

I wanted to refill my well with work that doesn’t bleed it dry.

Common causes

I attribute my frequent burnout cycles to two things:

01 – High-level Context Switching
The complexity and demands of a creative career and building a brand have changed significantly. You’re no longer a single cog in the machine; you’re spread across multiple moving parts that run 24 hours a day. This has put me in a reactive state, operating day-by-day, doing whatever needs to be done, and not always finishing tasks while being pulled this way and that. All of this demands moving between different contexts any given hour of the day – it’s mentally and physically exhausting.

02 – Lack of Clarity
Until the start of this year, I thought I knew what I wanted from my work and where I was heading, but what became clear once I was forced to stand back was that the internal and external noise clouded the path ahead; I was operating without a clear playbook, which meant I was stuck repeating the same patterns. (Not that life is a playbook).

These points are not an uncommon experience, we’re all feeling this throughout our work.

I’ve worked with (and in) brands where, over time, the noise levels up so much that the strategy becomes about daily survival. I’ve seen founders become so stuck on results and KPI’s that they change the goalposts every other week, and eventually the trust erodes amongst the team; everyone’s left wondering what to do next.

This is the point I normally step in with my brand consultant hat on, to listen and then create clarity, consistency, and simplicity for brands and their teams to follow through a strategic perspective.

So when I realised I’d dropped off my own path because I’d got ‘sucked back into the machine’, it was time I put myself through my own ‘Brand Consultancy’ process to extinguish the burnout once and for all.

I’d Rather be Outside… my Ikigai

I had been spending 99% of my time sitting at my desk, in my own head, strategically navigating the day-to-day requests.

Living in fight-or-flight mode.

I’d been sucked back into being multiple cogs for multiple people.

Until I Stopped.

Around early 2025, the mantra ‘I’d rather be outside’ had been humming away in the back of my mind – thanks to Rob Loeber for gifting me that phrase; perhaps he knew what I needed before I did.

I wasn’t able to listen to it at the time, then in the space I’d created at the start of this year, I tuned in:

“I’d Rather be Outside. I’d Rather be Outside.”

At first I wanted to give it all up and literally do a job outside that didn’t involve any sitting at a desk, but as I tuned back in to myself and what others had been reflecting to me, a much stronger path appeared, where my two opposing worlds collided to create something new:

Hike it Out – where Brand Strategy + Hiking = clarity.

For me, the most engaging part of what I do is when I work directly with founders and brand teams to create a clear strategy for them to follow, taking them out of their day-to-day noise to listen and present back a clear plan - making the work fun and purposeful again.

The second part is hiking. Spending time outside, not as a means to an end, but as a consistent place where I can think clearly, connect deeply with myself and find perspective in life (and also there’s not much wifi to interrupt me).

This combination goes hand-in-hand; taking founders out into nature for a walk, to talk it out and return knowing what to do.

My good friend, Rob Abbey, has called this my ‘Ikigai’ – a Japanese concept that means ‘a reason for being’ or ‘a reason to get up in the morning’.

Planting my flag in the ground

2027, I’ll move from 99% of my time at a desk to 50%.

It’s been six months since I committed to this process. I have one full day a week outside, and the work I am doing at the desk flows more easily because I’m creating from a purposeful place again - less context switching, more creating and clear boundaries.

It’s been noted by family, friends and clients how much more happy I seem.

I attribute this to three things:

1. Creating space to hear myself.

2. Planting a flag in the ground to move myself toward, giving me boundaries and meaningful waypoints on my map.

3. Launching Hike it Out as a living, breathing service that captures the whole of me.

What I’ve learnt is that by turning in, while creating an intention further out, I’ve found simple clarity and purpose in my work.

And you?

When you’re running your own brand or creating something, it’s super easy to lose sight of the purpose when your voice is lost.

If you’re seeking to reconnect with your purpose and need your voice to be heard, knowing you’ll walk away knowing exactly what to do… then let’s take a hike together.

hikeitout.co.uk

See you out there
–Jeff

Further thoughts

Work / Life balance: Space and presence in your life too is incredibly important; if you’re always centred around work, you forget to live; there’s room for both, as often one feed the other. That’s where burnout strikes!

Perspective: None of this is possible without my ‘guides on the trail’, people who offer me perspective, who will listen to me as I listen to others, reflecting to me what I’m not always hearing. Though I do this for others, I always need someone to do it for me!

You only live once: This is cliché, I realise, but it’s true. We’ve built a world where work defines us; it consumes us (when we’re not on our phone), but if work is not working for you, step back. Tune back in. Because I’d rather spend the rest of my time outside living a life than earning it.

How many times have you given someone advice, then immediately said to yourself;

​‘‘I wish I could listen to my own advice”…

​What I’ve come to realise is that we’re unable to hear ourselves when we’ve got our heads deep inside our own brand and creative projects – not to mention living in a world that’s full of distractions.

​Whenever I work with a brand or a founder, I always know what needs to be said, like i’m some incredible brand guru; mini fireworks exploding in my head as each dot joins up until…

​“I’ve cracked their code!”

​But really, they’ve given me the answer themselves by talking to me.

And the answer is simple; it’s what they already know, they just can’t hear what they are saying.

All I’m doing is repeating it back to them and giving them a voice.

​My most successful offering of outside perspective was when I wrote The Outsiders book in 2014.

I observed an emerging culture from the outside, joined the dots, and presented back to 100,000s of people – all in one go – a culture they were already actively participating in…

​I defined what they couldn’t articulate, but they all felt.

​I gave voice to a culture, and it created ripples across the globe.

​I literally wrote a book from an outsiders perspective…

​on a new outside perspective…

​of spending time outside to get perspective…

​But why can’t I listen to my own perspective?!?

​When I joined Millican as Creative Director, my number one job was to give the brand a voice. After spending so many years working in-house, I would frequently lose perspective because the day-to-day of building Millican became loud, so loud I wasn’t always sure what I was trying to say.

​In the latter years of Millican, I surrounded myself with people (outsiders) who could offer me their perspectives when I needed them most… I never felt alone, even when at times it was so noisy in my head that I felt it.

​Cultivating your own outside perspective is the most important part of what you do; it keeps you straying from your path too far, catching you from losing what’s true to your brand, your project and even yourself.

​I find my outside perspective in two ways:

1. I literally go outside, in the truest sense of the phrase ‘outside perspective’. Hiking. Fishing. Camping. Sitting in nature drinking coffee.

2. I seek it from friends, podcasts, coaches, books, mentors, my wife, my 2-year-old, my dog.

I imagine what my work would be like without the help of either of these possibilities – I think it would suffer greatly; in fact, it wouldn’t exist at all, because if it was left up to me and me only, I think I’d stop altogether.

After all, I wouldn’t know which way to go.

​It’s the perspective of others outside the noise of your day-to-day that ensure you to stay on your path.​

If you can do one thing to help your brand/product and yourself succeed, it’s to find your own outsiders.

​See you out there
– Jeff

​Further thoughts:

​This week I’ll leave you with a quote from David Whyte, which I hope speaks to you the way it speaks to me writing this article:

​“Help is strangely, something we want to do without, as if the very idea disturbs and blurs the boundaries of our individual endeavours, as if we cannot face how much we need in order to go on.”​

I know you don’t care if this email is late, but you might recognise the story of missing a deadline and how quickly one yes can throw your whole week.

​But, before you say ‘why didn’t you just say no?’…

​(Note: I wrote an article on mastering the art of saying no a few weeks back, so this is one of those humble stories of how quickly it can slip!)

…hear me out.

​Building a business for yourself or leading the team responsible for creating it requires commitment – commitment to giving yourself the space that allows it to make progress.

​Every week I commit to writing a Substack and launching it on a Monday. Simple. Progress.

​I have space assigned for it.

​I follow a simple system throughout the week from ideation to creation, and a few steps along the way for refinement before I schedule or hit send.

​And so far, in the 6 weeks I’ve been writing this email, the system has worked.

​Yet this week, I said yes again.

​And without a blink, the week was gone, and I was left angry at myself, wondering how I let this happen again.

​I’ve come to realise this:

​Saying yes is a gamble!!

​A risky one for anyone who’s got a vision, mission, and reason to create something you feel is important to supporting that.

​A yes could be a ‘one and done ’, or it could become the beginning of a series of yeses that erodes the time to do your job.

​As I said my first ‘yes’ to a last-minute project request earlier this week… I watched the door close day-by-day on my commitment to my weekly Substack.

​Within a few hours of the first yes, I became locked into a reactive sequence of further yeses and stuck deep in the tasks that were coming at me thick and fast.

​I gambled, and it didn’t pay off.

​As the week passed, the frustration grew, turning into anger at myself; then my creativity dried up, and I abandoned any hope I had for my Monday Substack.

​I quit on myself.

​I create space in my week for client requests like this, less so than I have before now that I’m building Hike it Out – my purpose has made it easier to create boundaries.

​But what I noted this week is I allowed the external and internal voices to get louder than the voice underneath… my own.

​I couldn’t even listen to myself.

‘SAY NO!’

​By the time I realised this, it was too late.

​So I went for a walk.

​I was so frustrated and tired with the internal self-chatter that thoughts morphed into ideas about quitting everything, starting a new career as a dog walker and building a new pottery brand after the ceramics lesson I had 2 years ago…

​In these moments I realise my desire to quit is me turning away from my issues; instead, while I plodded along, the voices quietened, and I could hear myself again.

​Gambling with a yes is a gamble on what you’re making, and quickly you can’t hear yourself.

​It’s not always easy to say no, to remain on the right side of your boundaries. It’s a practice.

​One thing I’ve learnt is that you must be intentional with your time. If you do say yes, own it. If it spirals, accept it, but then look for a space to pause.

​I’ve experienced this so many times before, from in-house brand building where the pressure is high to progress fast, to today, making something for myself while juggling other work that makes up my business.

​Hike it Out is my offer to founders and brand builders to make space for your voice to be heard when all the other voices are pulling you in different directions – we walk together, I listen, and then I reflect back to you what you’re not able to hear… your own voice. Then you walk away knowing what to do.

​It worked for me this week. So here’s a slightly late newsletter, and I’ll see you again on Monday with the next one.

​See you out there
– Jeff

Read the previous article on saying NO!

“3rd time lucky”, I thought to myself as I walked through the doors of The Old School in Buttermere last week.

​I was here to do my Mountain Leader training.

​I’d signed up for two previous courses; the first was cancelled, and I cancelled the second because I’d overcommitted to work (classic).

​It had the makings of me giving up on the idea altogether.

​However, I’ve spent the last 6 months reorienting around what truly matters to me after feeling somewhat lost, so the pull of 6 days in the mountains was stronger than ever.

​The course itself centres around a few key pillars, one of which is map reading - finding the exact place you are standing in the vast and rolling hills.

​To locate yourself on the map, you start by observing where you are in the landscape, looking for features, natural elements that stand out, which then translate onto the map until you can see exactly where you are.

​When we arrived at a place on the map, we had a moment of reflection; reorienting ourselves, then taking a bearing, and setting off again.

​This was the rhythm of the week; mixed in was some ‘steep-ground’ skills and group management.

​Using the end of a piece of grass as a pointer to locate yourself in this confusing web of lines, contours, symbols, knolls, spurs, reentrants…

​Then suddenly, in a moment of pure clarity…

​there YOU are.

​As I lay back on my bag, looking west, Great Gable towered over me; to my south, the mighty Scafell and Great End stood with stoic presence and to my north… home, just a few valleys over.

I also felt at home in this moment, surrounded by a cathedral of mountains.

​In the joy of these moments, familiar feelings of self-doubt crept in – as so often does when you’re enjoying something;

​‘I’ve got hundreds of emails to answer!’’

‘You should be at work making money’

“You haven’t got signal to check socials”

‘Are you sure this is what you want to be doing?’

​I was lost and disorientated again, overthinking and critical.

​‘Just enjoy being here!!’ I interjected into the rapidly escalating thoughts.

​‘You’ve found yourself exactly where you’re meant to be; in this moment.’

​‘Just look at the map; that’s where you are, you can’t be anywhere else, but here.’

​And so I did.

​I couldn’t be anywhere else but in that moment, lying in that exact spot – that was enough.

​The focus of learning something new has been incredible. Life is a journey. A small series of lessons that add up to a point on your map and then you set off again in pursuit of the next now.

​My challenge for the next few weeks is to catch myself when I pick up the rope for a game of tug of war in my head, and put it down – to locate myself on my map and be content that I am doing exactly what I’m meant to in that moment, and it doesn’t have to mean anything other than what it is.

​To meet myself where I’m at and accept it, to dance with it, to find joy in the game of life.

​Before the ML course, I was used to spending time in the mountains, following well-trodden paths, part of the conga line of people making their way to the same summit, and unless it was a foggy day, it was really clear where you were going.

​Over the course of 6 days of training, I was able to plot my own routes into the unknown and still arrive exactly where I wanted to be.

​I can still summit the same mountains, but I can now navigate my own path there because I have a framework to guide me.

​I can walk into the unknown, knowing at any moment I can find myself on my path, even when self-doubt steps in to try and stop me.

​The following quote by David Whyte really speaks to how I feel after the ML. At first it reads like he’s saying you’re lost, but it goes on to emphasise that when you’re on your path, you know it; where it leads is full of self-doubt and acceptance vs. following the same well-trodden path as everyone else:

See you out there
– Jeff

Here are some further thoughts after writing this:

Frameworks – Building a brand can be noisy: internal expectations, new trends, exciting opportunities… all turning the volume up and nudging you off the path. Your brand needs clarity around who you are, what you do, and how you show up when things get loud. A clear framework gives you direction in the noise. It’s no different from navigating on a mountain. If you’re caught in a storm, a map and a clear framework allow you to find the best path forward.

​Self-Doubt – For me, self-doubt appears when I seem most connected to myself. Self-sabotage. A way to try to bring you back to safety, to the familiar, to stick to the path you know so well rather than set your own course. I’ve been using self-doubt as a measuring stick to prove to myself that I am onto something that feels true to me.

​Acceptance – When the self-doubt bubbled up, I chose to accept it. Not to fight it. But to meet it where I was at that moment. A practice I’m now using daily. What acceptance does for me is take the energy out of the distraction. I accepted I was overthinking, and in that moment I was sitting back on the grass, present. I can make peace with who I am. I accept who I am.

Hike it Out

As we’re fast approaching September and the busiest time of the year for most Founders and Brand Teams, now is a good opportunity to consolidate your strategy and get clear on where you’re heading for the rest of 2026 and beyond. From my experience, once September hits, there’s not a second to breathe before it’s Christmas.

Over the course of one hike and 2 calls, we can create a really clear strategic path for your brand. We need to take a hike!

Hike it Out

Mountain Leader Training with Sam and Harriet

If you’re considering undertaking Mountain Leader Training, then I’d highly recommend Sam and Harriet over at Lake District Mountaineering.

ML Training

​“Ok, tell me what you’re stuck with…’ I asked Andrew.

​‘I feel like the brand has lost its identity since we moved’… he said.

​For context, this was on a recent trial version of ‘Hike it Out’. The guinea pig for the day was one half of Miscellaneous Adventures, Andrew Groves – a longtime friend and peer in the outdoor creative community.

​‘Yikes!’ I thought to myself.

​There was no messing; Hike it Out had officially begun, and we were less than ten steps on the trail!

​No longer associated with a specific location – an authentic part of his brand proposition – Andrew felt there had been an identity shift, and he was stuck with how to move forward in a new place.

​What he was saying felt familiar to me.

​For 8 years, I was the Creative Director at Millican Backpacks. I wrapped my identity up in the brand.

​When I left the brand 4 years ago, I felt lost.

​‘Who am I now?’ – a similar question I asked myself that Andrew was asking me now.

​I’d walked this path before, and now we were walking it together in search of clarity.

​I knew the more I probed Andrew, the more he would talk around his brand purpose, and we’d find the door in and the path forward.

​He named the purpose several times as we walked and talked: ‘nature connection’.

​He identified his struggle clearly too: ‘how to articulate this purpose into a proposition and product as clear as he had previously’.

​He once lived in the woods in the South of England, just outside London, where he ran wood carving workshops in the forest surrounding his house. Simple to understand. Easy to get to on a train. It thrived.

Fast forward to today, he lives deep in the Lake District, 8 hours away from the place he used to call home – no trees in sight, just rolling hills and fells.

​‘So what’s changed?’ I asked.

‘Well, we don’t live in a forest anymore’… if you hadn’t picked up on that bit yet, he said it pretty clearly in his reply.

​‘Ok, but are you still connected to nature?’ I asked…

​Cue the most incredible story from Andrew, taking me on his journey of connecting to nature, and how it has changed his entire life and the effect it has had on others he’s encountered too.

​In awe, I wanted to renounce my citizenship in modern life and take to the woods to live off the land.​

​He hadn’t lost his identity at all; it was the same now as it was then. It had simply matured beyond the woods and his wood carving workshops, into something more powerful and clear:

​‘Nature connection as a way to live an intentional life.’ I reflected to him.

​It was a living purpose. A proposition hard to turn down.

​It was a living, breathing identity that didn’t need to attach itself to any one place or specific activity.

​The woodcarving workshops taught a skill; it was still about nature connection, just disguised as craft.

​And where is he now?

​Nature connection as a way of life.

​Bigger. More encompassing. More philosophical.

​But more powerful.

​The purpose has become about their way of life, and their own story, inspiring others to question the world around them by forming a deeper relationship with nature.

​As we walked on, it became clear to Andrew that the proposition he was offering could be funnelled into multiple outlets.

​From writing a Substack, recording podcasts, hosting brand workshops, content partnerships, and creative expressions. They were already doing it.

​Their brand hadn’t lost its identity at all; in fact, it had gotten stronger. It just missed a way for people to participate more closely, in real life.

​That’s when the conversation soon flipped into the ‘how’.​

‘How do we articulate this into a product?’ He asked

​I probed again, and soon it was clear they had already been doing it, sharing their story online, building a highly engaged community, and working with brands exactly as they wanted.

​They were living their purpose and product.

​What we concluded, though, was that the wood-carving workshop from previous years was an accessible way for people to learn and participate. That kept coming up: the desire to create a participatory experience.

​Again, he was stuck.

​I looked at him and said, ‘You’ve already done it before’.

​That’s when it all became really clear. He’d lived the very thing he wanted to do before. But the connection to the forest was the block he was experiencing.

​He knew how to host a workshop. He knew how to explain ‘nature connection’ to people in a way they would understand and how it can inspire you to live a more intentional life. He knew it all.

​He was living his purpose.

​He just needed to commit.

​All I did was let him speak himself into clarity.

​​For the rest of the day, I guided Andrew through a roadmap that his clarity had provided. Actions that allowed him to articulate his purpose into a product.

Read Andrew's Substack

​My Reflections:

​​Walking with Andrew and offering him space to reconnect to his purpose and find clarity within it, I felt alive in that shared moment.

​Andrew stopped me and said, ‘Look at the grass, what do you see?’

​For a moment I thought this was a trick question… ‘grass?’ I said.

​Note: I knew it wasn’t a trick; Andrew’s prolific and deep knowledge of nature comes for free when you spend time with him; his willingness to share it is contagious.

​‘There’s at least 5 types of grass in that small patch,’ he said without judgment… he knew I’d forget this information quicker than he could tell me them all, but he listed them off.

​By zooming in, I saw beyond that patch of green grass.

​In reverse, Andrew was so deep in the grass with his brand that I guided him outside, allowing him to see that he was looking at a patch of grass​ and that he could trust he already knew the details.

​From woodland workshop to intentional living, Andrew and Emma are living every bit of their purpose, a powerful product that transforms lives.

Take a hike

If you’re a founder or someone building a brand and Andrew’s story resonates with you and you’d like to ‘Hike it Out’ then check out how we can talk a walk and I can help you find clarity too:

Let's take a Hike

Here’s some further thoughts after writing this:

Identity: As founders and creatives, we can become almost unidentifiable between who we are and what we’re creating; you put your life and soul into it. Recognising the line between you and your work is incredibly important for success, as it creates an opportunity to step back and have perspective. What Andrew identified was that the location was the issue and not the move changing him. He was able to see the boundary between himself and his brand, the problem and the solution.

​Commitment: After the hike, we had a follow-up call; I pushed Andrew and Emma to commit to hosting their first workshop in September. Because once you’ve committed to something, you’ll find a way of making it happen, and in Andrew and Emma’s case, it will help them recognise the familiar feeling they’ve done before and trust their path forward.

​Intention: We’re always looking for guides on the trail to help us live more intentionally; it’s what humans do. We look to those who live their purpose, like Andrew and Emma, and want to know more; we study them from a distance, through our phones, silent observers thinking ‘I wish I could be like that too’. I will write more about living intentionally, as I am also seeking to be more intentional with my work and life. When you recognise someone who lives true to themselves, go deep and try to feel what it is that makes them so interesting to you.

Last week I launched Hike it Out into the world. It just so happened that I was the first client I took out on the experience seeking clarity and returning with a clear path forward…

‘F**k! This is it!’

I’d looked round to check I wasn’t in earshot of anyone before I shouted out in a rare moment of self-appreciation.

​One small moment of clarity on the side of a hill, then a blur of excitement took over!

​I skipped back down the mountain to the beat of what had become clear, my feet chanting: ‘Hike it out. Hike it out. Hike it out’ as they struck the floor.

​I’d made a commitment to myself earlier this year that I’d move away from a life sat at a desk in the studio, and I’d reached a point where it was time to make it happen, but I wasn’t entirely sure how.

All I knew ​was I couldn’t find the answer sitting in the very room I wanted to escape from; I had to go to the place where the noise quietened, and the mind could open up.

​So I set off on one of my regular hikes with a question: ‘How do I spend more time outside and still do the work I do?’

Midway up Grisedale Pike, in the Lake District, the clouds parted, and the sun hit me.

It was like a moment from a detective drama when the main character pieces all the threads together.

​In my moment of clarity, the phrase ‘Hike it Out’ appeared inside of me, quickly followed by an explosion of dots joining together…

​Boom! Boom! Boom!

​‘I’m going to take people out hiking to figure their stuff out!’

​Simple.

​Rambling and rambling!

​Like some sort of weird Inception moment, I’d been my first trial client!

​Hike it Out was born in exactly the same conditions that I am now helping others - founders, brand builders, creatives – to find their own clarity outside of the noise.

​All too often, when you’re building something, it’s easy to get lost in the noise. To lose direction. To mistrust your next step. I know because I’ve been there. I was there at the start of the hike.

​Over the last 20 years, I’ve been a founder and worked with founders; I’ve been brand director and a creative director; I’ve built and led teams, and I’ve also been a one-person team doing it all myself. It can feel like a mountain to climb with no summit.

​For the last 4 years, I’ve been strategically guiding people like myself, but sat behind a screen.

​I’ve also spent the last 20 years in pursuit of clarity by spending time outside in nature – a place where you can disconnect from the wifi and tune into your own signal.

​Hike it Out is the best of these elements built around one key outcome: ‘clarity’ – the thing we seek so often and fail to find.

​It comes in the form of a 1-to-1 guided hike with a strategy brand component.

​It’s brand consulting up a hill.

​It’s not therapy, though, to be clear. That’s a whole other experience and not one I provide.

​Nature isn’t there as a means to an end. It’s a backdrop where founders can get from behind the desk and talk through their brand – a kind of looking back at the woods to see the trees.

​We set out with a question, and we return with an answer in the form of a strategic map that guides your next steps.

​So on that hike, I created the product, tested it, and now I’ve launched it.

I set off with a problem and returned with a map to follow.

​And I can confirm it works because my own head is so full of noise and distraction from modern life to think clearly.

​All it took was a walk.

The path to clarity was right at my feet, and it’s at your feet too.

​If you’d like to take a hike, let’s chat!

​hikeitout.co.uk

​See you out there
– Jeff

‘I know where I’m going, but why do I feel lost?’ I thought to myself as I hiked along a very clear forest path.

​The further on I went, the more paths and options opened up.

​‘Do I go down there? Should I go down there?’…

​We were in Rothiemurchus, Scotland. I’d had to make a call back at the van, so I was trailing behind my family who’d set off about an hour before me on an out-and-back walk to find beavers in a loch.

​‘Come on, Jeff, you know where you’re going,’ I protested as I played catch-up.

​The reality was: I wasn’t lost at all, but in the build-up to this moment, I’d set off with a head full of noise post-call.

​I was disoriented.

​On I went, tangled in thoughts, doubt, expectations – even a bit of excitement thrown in there to confuse things even more – everything blurred into one.

​I’d started the week-long holiday feeling certain about what lay ahead when I got back, but in an instant I was overthinking everything.

​As I trundled on, I stomped to the beat of my overthinking: ‘How will people receive it?’ ‘What colour should the logo be?’ thinking of the strategic ways to launch this very Substack and the exact sequence of articles I’d write for the next 20 years… then it got a bit more disparaging; ‘is this the right thing to do?’…‘should I even bother at all?’ ‘This is all wrong!’

​Then I hit a clearing. ‘Stop!’ I told myself.

​It was in this clearing that I could take a moment, look back and see the woods I’d emerged from; I was on a clear path the whole time.

​I sat on a rock…‘Take a minute’.

​When you’re lost in a forest, the advice is to stop immediately and avoid going any deeper, sit down to calm down, observe yourself (your supplies) and then plan your way out. That’s exactly what I did.

​In that moment of pause in the clearing, things became clear.

​In that minute I realised that thinking was getting me nowhere. Instinctively I knew what to do – I committed fully and put one foot in front of the other.

​When you’re building something to put out into the world - a brand, client project or your own creative outlet - it’s an expression of yourself, and it’s super easy to overthink as a way to distract yourself from actually putting it out there, in fear of what others will think.

​Outside noise and internal self-doubt can turn something amazing into something you think has no value to anyone and definitely not yourself.

​Once the effects of the pause in the clearing had taken over, I jumped back on the path, and the rest of the walk was calm and clear. I’d made an agreement with myself that good is enough and committed to putting this Substack project (and a few other things) out there as soon as the holiday was over.

​Being lost in the forest, even when you’re on your path, is about being comfortable with being lost and knowing you’ll find a way through. The way forward doesn’t always have to be clear; you just have to trust where you’re going.

​Sometimes all you need to do is sit still and create a clearing for yourself.

Like John Muir says:

​“Between every two pines is a doorway to a new world.”

See you out there
– Jeff

​
Here’s some further thoughts after writing this:

​Commitment: Commitment, for me, is the trust in yourself that what you’re creating in life and work is coming from a place of intention. Committing to the feeling vs the overthinking is saying you want to live life intentionally, and what comes with that is being comfortable in the unknown.

​Perfection: is a story you tell yourself in order to not commit. All projects grow and evolve with time; nothing starts out and stays the same forever. If perfection is stopping you from moving forward, the only way I know to break through is to ‘hit the big green button’ and go all in. What’s the worst that can happen… you realise it was already perfect.

​Pause: A continual theme and a constant practice, hitting pause. Stop. Disconnect. Clear the way. Go for a walk. Go meditate. Go sit outside. Turn your phone off. It’s the simplest way to find clarity, but it’s the hardest thing to find when life is throwing distractions at you from every direction.

“Would you do some brand work as an exchange of services with my mate Sam?” asked Dan.

‘Yes?’ I said, before I knew who Sam was or what Sam did, but then I was used to saying yes without a second thought, so… yes!

But this wasn’t the kind of yes I normally give away willingly.

It was a yes that came from somewhere else; it was a “yes?” with that infliction of curiosity at the end because I’d “had a feeling”. It turned out it was the last time I said yes without considering it.

For context, Sam is a coach or as I prefer to call him: a guru of living life from signal. A master of reorienting you back on your path and the possibilities that come with it… Fully committing to it, wherever it goes.

And for further context, the last three or four years I’d been feeling like I wasn’t living from an intentional place, burnt out from taking on too much work and I wasn’t sure how to move forward, the timing of meeting Sam was mysteriously perfect. I immediately began a series of 1-hour coaching sessions with him.

Saying yes has been main prompt for my operating system of ‘survival at all costs’ and the other classic ‘not let people down’, which was underpinned by the story I had been telling myself over time: that I needed to take on everything I could in order to provide financially, emotionally and be in service to everyone and anything that asked of me.

(A familiar story for many of us who are building a business or brand, working for ourselves or being a parent.)

“Why don’t you say no?” said Sam, in our first session.

What? Say no.

No thanks.

I only say yes…

That one question shifted everything.

Someone gave me permission to say no again.

Can it be this simple?

No.

I’ve learnt no doesn’t come naturally unless it’s coming from a place of intention – a topic I’ll cover a lot more ground on in time.

In this short period though, I’ve learnt to say NO! again. I’ve said no to big things, small things, things that my head screamed yes to, but my body remained unshakeable in its answer.

No!

The first ‘no’ was the realisation that my signal was still there. I began to take more hikes outside and meditate again, clearing the way for the signal to grow stronger, to pulse right throughout my body, resonating from that deep knowing of my gut.

At first it was wild, strong and overpowering. I was throwing ‘No’s’ out left, right and centre!

Nah!

No thanks!

Nope!

Then I wobbled (as we all do).

The ‘yes’ mind crept back in.

This is when I realised saying no takes practice. I will take wrong turns. But when I walk off course, I now pause. I’ve learnt to feel when I have strayed.

In these moments of stillness, I have begun to listen to myself, to be present with myself.

I now have a working compass to navigate with again, even though I’m not sure yet where I’m going – and that’s fine (that’s the whole purpose of this Substack and life, I think) – the journey doesn’t just end here now I can say no again… it starts.

I’ve cleared space by politely declining projects I felt were not for me and that would fill the space or send me off trail.

And now I’ve begun to create from that space too. The signals are growing stronger and more alive with energy and possibility – none stronger than when I’m outside.

I’m now able to say yes! with intention and say no! when I feel it – even when the pressure builds and the noise is dialled up around me.

I’m able to show up again in all areas of my life. Life is no longer siloed; art isn’t just art, work isn’t just work, being a dad isn’t just being a dad; it’s all one.

And I’m creating for myself again, this Substack being one of them.

To be honest, I’ve never created something so clear to me as I’d Rather be Outside is and in service of others too.

How it will live in the world isn’t important; I’m just saying yes to it.

Four months ago the river was blocked.

Now it flows.

All from learning to say no again.

My signal, which I’m calling ‘the vast outside’, is getting stronger again, calling me back out into nature.

Where will it lead?

Where will ‘I ‘ go?

Four months ago I couldn’t hear myself.

Now I’ve tuned in.

I’ve gone from saying yes, to no and back again, but today it’s different.

Today, I am able to listen, act with intention and follow with possibility.

To quote Lion Tracker Boyd Varty:

“I don’t know where I am going, but I know exactly how to get there.”

See you out there.
– Jeff

Here are some further thoughts after writing this:

Saying NO when you feel it: This is a practice all founders, creatives and people building something should try everyday – listening to your gut. Yes for me was a reaction to external and internal pressure I’d built up, I trained myself to say yes by default to please others and reduce their friction or not let them down. I’ve learnt you do not need to say yes immediately; give yourself more than 2 seconds and see what comes up before you answer!

Connecting the dots: Everything prior to this has purpose. It’s led me here. All the things I’ve said yes to still ladder up to progress.

Space: Every day we’re hammered with noise, drowning out our own internal voice, so finding small moments of silence has gone a long way to helping me tune back in:
– Less phone time.
– More walks outside.
– More purposeful boredom.

Clarity: This takes time to form. There are moments when you can zoom out and see the big picture, but mostly it’s listening and sense-checking:
– what am I feeling?
– is this a distraction?
– is this for me?

Sam’s Brand work

I worked with Sam and Garth to build out the position and the visual world around Conscious Soup. Below is the logo that I created as part of the work – this project helped me reconnect with my own illustration style being used as an aesthetic for a brand (something I haven’t done in many years).

Extra Reading:

You can order Sam’s book The Door Was Never Locked here.
Check out Conscious Soup here.

Hello and welcome to I’d Rather be Outside!

A very quick intro if you’ve not met me before:

I’m Jeff, a Creative Director, storyteller and brand therapist* (I’m not an actual therapist, but that’s how people who work with me describe the process) living in the Lake District, UK. For the past 20 years I’ve pursued a creative life while spending time outside in nature.

I also wrote a book called ‘The Outsiders’, it’s about the rise of modern creative outdoor culture over the last decade (my biggest claim to fame).

This Substack is me going through my own ‘brand’ therapy, trying to understand who I am and how to live a creative life, in the same way I’ve helped others over the years.

After a few decades delivering creative work the younger me would be proud of, I’ve found myself in a permanent state of burnout and asking myself… is this it?

I’m questioning the way I live, the way I spend my time, the places I choose to be… I know from speaking with peers that I’m not alone.

So I’ve opted to stop.

Check my compass, orientating myself and set off on a path knowing there are unknowns and embracing the possibility ahead.

I’m walking in nature. With nature.

I’m heading outside in an attempt to re-orientate myself and live closer to what I believe to be my ‘self’. One foot in front of the other. I’m not sure where it’ll lead, all i know is:

I’d Rather be Outside!

What to expect

The content i’ll be exploring, or at least setting off to unpack, centres around these 4 questions:

– Building a brand with a mountain to climb?
– Feel lost on your creative journey?
– Not sure what path to follow and direction to go?
– Overwhelmed with the distractions of modern life?

Maybe you recognise yourself in this (I recognise myself in it everyday), then hopefully I’d Rather be Outside is for you.

This is a voyage of self discovery, navigating the line between self indulgence and selflessness, to talk openly about defining a creative life and career. It will feature storytelling, frameworks, illustrations, musings, poems, thoughts (and everything in between) on a weekly and monthly basis.

On this Journey together we aim to find:

– Clarity
– Reorientation
– Reconnection
– Creative Direction
– Calm in the noise

I’ve mentioned Creative Direction, and will mention it a lot, as I am a creative director, but to define it for this space: it’s the direction in life we take that allows us to live our truest expression of ourselves, from building a business and brand, to putting pencil to paper or paint to canvas… it all takes creativity.

If you feel like you’re standing at the fork in the trail, then I’m here to help you find the most creative path possible – it’s where I’m standing today.

See you out there.

– Jeff