My journey to becoming an entrepreneur began when I was eight. I started with a lawnmower round, a milk run (which I did for free chocolate milk), worked in a supermarket, milked cows and also undertook tractor work on the family farm. From there, I dropped out of school and started working in television at 15, before stopping at around the age of 30 to manage a band. After a year with the band, I spent the next 10–15 years founding and co-founding around 10 organizations.

By 2018, I was burned out. I didn’t realize how fried I was until I wasn’t burning the candle at both ends anymore. But, that took quite a journey.

Signs of burnout were present but ignored – I wasn’t enjoying the drive to my office, I was getting frustrated, I didn’t care about money, career glory and I was distracted. But did I stop to think, “Am I burned out?”

Nope. We just slog on.

In fact, I’m sure there’s a bunch of founders and CEOs out there reading this who are avoiding asking themselves about the niggling symptoms of burnout they are experiencing right now. We all know it’s lonely at the top.

As a business leader, there will be times you’ll lose your mojo, and if you’re anything like me, find yourself wondering if you are living your best life. You might even start questioning yourself, asking, “What’s my calling? What’s my purpose? Is this it, life? And, why does everyone else seem to be happier than me?”

As I started questioning things, I also began to notice how much my kids and I loved getting out of town. I found myself searching for peace in nature, the more natural state of existence.

I caught myself regularly saying: “You know that feeling we have after we’ve gone for a walk in nature, how amazing it feels? I believe that’s our natural state.”

It became clear, it was time to add splashes of color to our family canvas.

Finding Solace

Somewhere on the journey to find farmland to buy, I came across an unbelievably charismatic rental property on a river two-and-a-half hours north of Sydney. That was in October, so I moved some furniture up there and began spending weekends sleeping with the door open, listening to the river, looking up at star-filled skies and cooking for myself.

I found myself feeling absolute peace and a kind of excitement as rejuvenation began pouring into my central nervous system.

Nature had me in my natural state, and it felt incredible.

I began to feel like I didn’t want to go back to the city anymore. So around November, I made up my mind, and a commitment that by 4 December, my 50th birthday. I would have everything out of the city and my John Dutton Yellowstone forever dream would begin. It helped that my daughter had already transitioned to homeschooling; it was a little more complex with my son, but we made it work.

My 50th birthday wasn’t what it would have been in the past. It was humble. Some of my favorite food, a coffee mug, some socks and a beautiful card from my two kids.

The default path is the one we are taught in schools. Get good grades, join a good university, find a decent job, climb the corporate ladder and eventually one day you will have enough to be happy – the pathless path.

The Greatest Reset

Amid the simplicity of rural living, I found myself engaging in daily rituals including biking, running and preparing wholesome meals. Swimming in (and drinking from) pristine mountain rivers became a rejuvenating ritual, nourishing my body and soul. A total contrast to my previous city lifestyle where I’d been waking up every day to the sounds of lawnmowers, cars and buses – there is no way that’s natural.

We bought horses, and the whole family got obsessed with riding. My kids were lucky enough to wake up late, do a few hours of schoolwork, have horse riding lessons, ride bikes and care for our growing menagerie. My daughter got a job at a bunch of different horse farms and studs. Imagine being a 14-year-old girl and riding your horse to work, to work with horses.

So, she was able to learn ‘horsewomanship’ from the best of the best. We would take the horses in the float and ride on beaches, and indeed float with our horses in the ocean too. Swimming in the ocean on horses is a surreal primal experience. It was a long way from working in creative factories in Surry Hills.

The transformative power of nature is unmistakable for most of us. My skin glowed with newfound vitality and I felt a renewed vigor for life and learning. The allure of freedom and natural beauty made returning to the city an unwelcome prospect.

Reflecting on those days now fills me with a sense of gratitude and sadness. It was a time of pure joy and connection to my family. I tear up when I think about it, as I know it was the best time of my life so far. People called me brave for making the move, but I can tell you with certainty today, it wasn’t as brave as coming back to the city, which is what I was about to do.

The Cost and Value of Disconnecting

This might sound obnoxious but living in Sydney costs several hundred thousand dollars a year, if you are caught up in all the trappings – restaurants, nice houses, a private school here and there – like I was.

Moving to the country, my living costs were approximately A$100,000 (US$66,000) a year. So, technically you could take two, three, four years out of your Sydney life (depending on your income) and do exactly what we did – zone out, enjoy each other and experience a punctuation in our busy lives that we will never ever regret.

What an incredible gift … up until a point.

However, stepping back from the city grind allowed me to realize that I wasn’t fulfilled.

The Complexities of a Reset

Homeschooling for two years with kids edging into their teens, in some parts was terrific, but it became isolating as puberty hit. Additionally, meeting my beautiful partner, who lives in the city, added a layer of complexity to our situation. I loved reconnecting with friends and colleagues over coffee.

One of those, my YPO buddy, Guzman and Gomez Founder Steven Marks, said to me: “What are you doing Clive? You got too much gas left in the tank, you gotta get back to the city.”

Steven’s prompting, time with my beautiful partner and the allure of doing something to help other business leaders avoid burnout, cemented my return to the city, and not only that, but it led to me launching Compadres.

Despite the change in scenery, my passion for making a positive impact in people’s lives remained steadfast. While my journey may not have mirrored my days on horseback, my history with running businesses and dealing with complexities of staff, clients, tax, wins and losses reminded me I did have a big darn tank full of wisdom.

As I say to business colleagues (my Compadres) today, “May my scars be your wisdom.”

The Cityslicker Returns

As a spaceship reenters Earth’s atmosphere, there’s often a tumultuous ride, with flames and occasional explosions. Fortunately, our return didn’t involve any explosions, but the shaking was certainly felt.

Transitioning my kids to new schools was a mixed bag of good and bad days. As any parent knows, our happiness often hinges on our children’s wellbeing. While some argue that changing schools builds resilience and fosters new friendships, it’s an experience we won’t be repeating.

The truth is, after three years pretending to be John Dutton from Yellowstone, my journey back to the city was tougher than anticipated. I underwent profound changes at a cellular level, seeing the world through a different lens after three extraordinary years.

I’ll never be the same again. It’s a transformation typically sparked by death, loss, or injury, but for me, it was a conscious choice to step outside my comfort zone. My perception of business, people and city life has shifted, akin to wearing a new pair of glasses that allow me to focus more clearly, despite the challenges of being an ADHD founder-type.

In essence, I’ve realized life isn’t about accumulating wealth for some distant retirement nirvana. It’s about embracing multiple retirements, switching careers every decade and living longer, fuller lives. I call them ‘self-full lives’.

Who wants a stagnant 20, 40, or 60-year career in the same field? It’s time to shoot for something more. Now I’m back in Redfern at 7am in the morning working on Compadres all over the world, with more passion than I had in my thirties starting my first business.