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Winning Doesn’t Define Me: A Lesson from Scottie Scheffler

At the British Open this weekend, Scottie Scheffler gave a press conference I’ll remember for the rest of my life.

It echoed one of the most important ideas in my new book, The Joy Molecule:

“I’ve said it for a long time: golf is not how I identify myself. I don’t identify myself by winning tournaments, chasing trophies, being famous or whatever.”

That truth hit me deeply.
Because in my own search for joy, I’ve realized how much of my identity has been tied to outcomes; how things look, what I achieve, and whether it all feels “successful” on the outside.

But identity, when built only on what we do, becomes a trap.
And that’s one of the biggest things that has kept me from fully experiencing joy.

When I listen to Scottie speak, what stands out isn’t just his non-attachment to winning—it’s his clarity. He knows:

  • What he is: one of the best golfers in the world.
  • Who he is: a humble, grounded man, faithful husband, and new father.
  • Why he’s here: not to chase trophies, but to live with peace, purpose, and love.

As he said, “Winning feels great—for like a few minutes.”
Then life moves on.

He even admitted:

“This is not a fulfilling life. It’s fulfilling from the sense of accomplishment, but it’s not fulfilling from a sense of the deepest places of your heart.”

What struck me most is that he puts family and faith ahead of everything else. He said he would walk away from golf if it ever pulled him out of alignment with what matters most.

That’s not just clarity. That’s integrity. That’s joy.

So what about you?

  • Are you doing something that defines you, or just something that fills your day?
  • Do you know what you’re good at, but still feel like something’s missing?
  • Does your work reflect your heart, or just your résumé?

Joy doesn’t come from how the world sees you.
It comes from how connected you feel to your own truth.

What keeps you from connecting to yourtruth?

There’s a quiet shift that happens when you stop performing and start listening, to yourself, to others, to life.

On July 1, 2015, exactly 10 years ago today, I landed in San Diego after a six-month journey around the globe with my family. The decade since has been filled with powerful lessons. I’ve lived most of that time in the digital shadows, rarely sharing publicly here on LinkedIn. There have been incredible highs and humbling lows. My ego has been shattered more times than I can count, and I’ve felt more raw emotion in the past six months than at any other point in my life.

I’ve come to realize I am not who I thought I was. I’m not my ego. I’m not my thoughts. I’m not even my feelings. And perhaps most humbling, I’m not that important. We’re all insignificant in the grand scheme, and yet, we each have the power to make a lasting impact.

Much of the pain on this journey has come from watching my ego unravel. The very things I used to chase in order to feel fulfilled were the same things keeping me from what I truly wanted. It’s a paradox I now wake up to daily, often with a quiet laugh. These days, I’m more in awe of people than ever before. But I’m also drawn to a particular kind of person, and now I understand why.

My path is unique, as is every persons’ on this planet. I’m writing a new book called The Joy Molecule, coming later this summer. It captures so much of what I’ve been learning and how I see the world right now. The book is a collection of stories from individuals that have taught me the lessons that I have needed to learn in order to find my joy. A number of people have challenged my perspective, but I’ve never felt clearer. 

Moving forward, I’ll be sharing more about this journey and what continues to unfold. These are extraordinary times, and we have a rare opportunity to live with intention and make a difference. If anything I share resonates with you, I’d love to hear your thoughts, and your story.

What are you working on these days that excites you?

What Happens When We Let Go of Who We Think We Are?

Why do we spend so much of our lives building an identity, only to realize later that it might not be who we really are?

Over the past decade, my own ego and sense of self have been challenged again and again. The version of me in 2015 feels worlds apart from who I am today in 2025. How does that happen? How can we change so much, yet still be in the same body?

Part of the answer lies in the people I’ve met.

Through my journey, I’ve had the honor of getting to know individuals who’ve faced profound struggle; loss of limbs, sight, identity, and somehow emerged with more peace and joy than most people I’ve ever met. Their resilience isn’t just inspiring; it’s transformative.

In The Joy Molecule, I tell the stories of three incredible humans connected to the Challenged Athletes Foundation (CAF). CAF is a community that’s impacted me in ways I can’t fully explain. Many of these athletes are now close friends, and they’ve taught me more about presence, perseverance, and purpose than any book or seminar ever could.

One of those friends is Jeff Mata.

Jeff is blind. He’s also a world champion in jiu-jitsu and has completed multiple triathlons, including the Ironman in Kona—arguably the toughest endurance race in the world.

In 2021 and 2022, Jeff and I rode over a thousand training miles together on a tandem bike. Then, from October 15 to October 21, 2022, we rode 640 miles from San Francisco to San Diego. Seven days. Seven different cities. Seven different hotels. And in all that time, Jeff only asked for help once.

He found his room, his bed, the bathroom—unpacked and repacked each morning without leaving anything behind. His independence was humbling. His joy, contagious.

People often assume I’m the one helping Jeff. But the truth is, he’s helped me more than I could ever help him. He’s shown me that we don’t serve others to feel noble—we serve because it connects us to what matters most. And often, we receive far more than we give.

So I’ll ask you this:

What have you done lately to explore what really brings you joy? 

It’s not an easy journey, but I promise—it’s one worth taking. Please leave me some comments about your journey, I’d love to hear them.

What If Joy Was Simpler Than We Thought?

How much time do you spend thinking about what truly brings you joy? Do you even have a definition for Joy?

For me, it’s become a daily exploration; not to gain more, impress others, or chase success, but to discover what brings me peace. Over time, I’ve come to believe that joy and inner peace are inseparable. One leads to the other. I’m also not saying that I’ve solved it in every moment of every day, it’s a constant learning process and one that challenges me on a regular basis.

Michael Singer often says we’re not really seeking money, power, or recognition; we’re seeking freedom from disturbance. What we want is peace. And as Werner Erhard reminds us, the possibilities life offers are far greater than the circumstances we’re born into.

Back in 2015, I took a six-month journey to better understand what happiness and joy really meant in my life. I dove into the work of Martin Seligman, absorbed countless TED Talks, and learned from thinkers like Shawn Achor, author of The Happiness Advantage. I became a student of joy.

But here’s the truth: I wasn’t raised with joy. I didn’t grow up in an environment where it was modeled or prioritized. Joy is something I’ve had to learn, sometimes the hard way. It doesn’t come naturally and there are many times when it slips away. It takes intention, reflection, and a willingness to feel what I had long suppressed.

Now, after years of stumbling forward, I’ve found something that resonates deeply:

What if joy is simply knowing what you are, who you are, and why you are here?

That’s what The Joy Molecule is all about. This book is not just my story, it’s the story of nine extraordinary humans who’ve faced challenge, loss, reinvention, and transformation. Each one taught me something essential about my joy.

Their stories are not prescriptions, they’re mirrors. They invite you to reflect on your own journey. To get honest about what matters. To reconnect with your “why,” to understand your “who” and get clear on your “what.”

If there’s one hope I have for this book, it’s that it helps you pause for a moment and ask yourself:

  • What brings me peace?
  • Who am I when no one’s watching?
  • Why am I really here?

We all walk different paths. But joy is not reserved for the lucky few. It’s something we all have access to—if we’re willing to look within.

How do you define joy? What bring you your joy?