In 2021, I left finance. I had spent twenty-five years in the business—first as an analyst, then as a portfolio manager, and eventually running a hedge fund in Europe. My edge was in gathering and interpreting data.
I was born in Memphis. I studied history and theology. I have lived in Georgia, Oregon, North Carolina, London, Lourmarin, and now, in a small town in Central Virginia where my wife teaches at a university.
In addition to finance, I have started a magazine that failed, owned part of a whiskey company, ran an olive farm in Provence, and wrote screenplays no one wanted to make. I played tennis until my knee blew out. I do yoga. I walk, cycle, meditate, and take out the rubbish.
I also write—about the things I find hard to accept, like attention, attachment, and the numinous. The essays are an attempt to make sense of what has been an interesting life, and to work out what a good one might look like.
Occasionally, I have a decent idea which I publish every three weeks or so.
If you want to get a broad sense of my writing, a good place to start is No One Gathers Evidence for the Amalfi Coast where a fisherman taught me how to exhale, How to Feel Something You’ve Never Felt about a visualization method I didn’t really believe in, and What the Coat Rack Held about selling our home and getting an impromptu lesson in attachment from my wife.
If these essays aren’t enough, I’ve also written a book: For What It's Worth: In Search of a Good Life. It’s part memoir, part reflection.
