My Birthday

January 2.
Forty-six years around the Earth.

I’m writing this from deep in the Swiss Alps. High altitude. Snow without edges. A fire that burns slowly and doesn’t ask for attention. No meetings. No feed. Just distance.

Distance clarifies everything.

When you step far enough away from momentum, you stop reacting to motion and start seeing truth. What endures. What’s cosmetic. What only exists because it’s constantly fed.

Before coming up here, Jonny and I made a decision most people never make once something starts to work.

We closed the room.

The Frame Syndicate was never public. There was no landing page. No announcement. No countdown. It was a completely secret society, shared quietly, person to person, on instinct alone.

At its peak, it reached 215 people, each personally invested between $15K and $100K.

Some members called it the best WhatsApp group they’d ever been part of. Others said the weekly meetups were the most grounded, useful, unusually honest conversations they’d had in years.

It worked precisely because it wasn’t trying to grow.

And that’s why we shut it down.

When something gains weight, you don’t dilute it. You interrupt it. You remove comfort. You test intent.

So we closed the Syndicate entirely.
Then we asked everyone to reapply.

No grandfathering.
No assumptions.
No “I was here before.”

Just a clean question. The Sean Ellis test: Do you still want this when it’s no longer convenient?

After that, quietly, we floated the reopened Syndicate WhatsApp group and weekly meetups to roughly two hundred people. No launch. No urgency. No persuasion. Just a signal placed gently on the table.

So far, ten applied.

That number doesn’t concern me. It clarifies everything.

Here’s the part most people avoid looking at.

Out of the original group, with all the value exchanged, all the conversations, all the depth, only about forty people left a review for the book.

That’s not a complaint. It’s a mirror.

People enjoy rare rooms. Fewer are willing to mark the moment publicly. Even fewer act without being reminded. Behavior always tells the truth.

At forty-six, I don’t measure momentum by volume. I measure it by who moves when the room is quiet.

If The Frame shifted how you carry yourself.
If it changed the tempo of conversations around you.
If it sharpened your awareness of timing, silence, and signal.

Then this moment already makes sense.

This is my birthday. And instead of celebration, I’m asking for something more enduring than praise.

A mark.

If you want to be part of whatever comes next, this will feel obvious.

To cement your grandfathered status and remain eligible for anything we build going forward, there are three moves. Clean lines. No ambiguity. No exceptions.

If you already did this, we salute you. You know who you are. Forever VIP.

1. Publish a LinkedIn post sharing the book.
No hype. No performance. Just signal. The people who recognize it will recognize you.

2. Leave an Amazon review.
Optional. Appreciated. Permanent.
https://www.amazon.com/Frame-Unspoken-Power-Status-Influence-ebook/dp/B0G4NVRG5R

3. Formally apply here.
Non-negotiable.
https://owntheframe.com

This isn’t about loyalty.
It’s about alignment.

The most valuable rooms don’t beg people to stay. They close, reopen, and see who returns with intent.

Up here in the Alps, I’m not optimizing funnels or tracking engagement. I’m watching something more revealing.

Who acts without applause.
Who understands that silence is information.
Who knows that when a door closes quietly, it’s often the moment that matters most.

The room is smaller now.
The air is thinner.
And what comes next will only be built with those who moved before it was obvious.

That’s the frame.