The STILL · $35,000 founding rate
The noise was never going to die down.
The noise only quiets when you leave the space that creates it. The STILL is four days in Singapore, completely outside the life that produced both the question and the noise drowning it out.
Not a retreat in the usual sense. A removal. Six sessions across the four days, with a mix of structured and open time, because the open time is where the real work lands.
You come carrying a decision you have circled for months. You leave with a direction that is genuinely yours, and the Next Chapter Brief in your inbox within seventy-two hours.
The noise goes quiet, and what it was hiding comes into view.
A direction comes into focus. Not a vague sense of it; the actual shape of the next five years, and the first move on it.
The weight of the decision you have been carrying eases. You feel it in your shoulders before you can explain why.
And the conviction to act arrives with the clarity, not months behind it.
What you get back is not abstract. The months you would have spent circling. The chapter you keep meaning to begin. The energy a deferred decision quietly draws down, returned.
The STILL is where ordinary life stops talking long enough for you to hear your own.
You’ve tried to carve out the time. The time was never the problem.
You blocked the morning; by nine it belonged to everyone else. You took real vacations and spent them half-present; your mind couldn’t get away from work.
Protecting the time assumes the problem is too little of it. It isn’t. The noise isn’t a gap in your calendar; it’s the medium you’re trying to see through. More hours inside it give you more noise, not more clarity, and the question underneath stays buried.
And it isn’t a failure of will. It’s structural. Every system you’re inside (the calendar, the team, the household, the next quarter) is built to pull you back to its surface. You can’t step outside a system while you’re mired in it.
You’ve been running your life the way you run a quarter: optimize for the score, adjust the rules when they stop serving you, assume you can course-correct later, or start over if it comes to that.
That is a game. Games are the right tool for a domain: a business, a market, a number. Played there, that line of thinking isn’t a flaw. It is skill.
But life isn’t a game; it’s a race. One run, no restart, on a course you did not set: the One who made you set it, before you ever picked up a pen.
The daily noise is the game’s noise: the scoreboard, the next move, the rule you’re renegotiating this week. It’s loud enough to drown the race entirely. You can run hard for years and never once hear the question of where the course is actually headed.
Stepping all the way out is how you see the course again. And seeing it clearly is the only honest place to act from.
Another year of carved-out mornings buys you another year of the same questions. The cost is not the year; it’s the direction all those years are pointed at while you wait to see it clearly.
This isn’t a scare tactic. It’s the math most people never do: the decision deferred again, five more years run on a course you haven’t actually examined, a depth you keep meaning to reach and never do.
None of that makes this urgent; it makes this honest. The right time is when you’ve circled long enough to know the noise is not going to quiet on its own.
I spent fifteen years designing products at Apple, Wealthfront, and Meta. Two patents. A recovering product designer who now designs lives instead of screens.
I’m also the one who left. I know the inside of the trap where every decision routes to you, and your own never reach the top of the queue. I invest in and advise founders. I’ve made the kind of move you’re weighing, and sat in the same fog before it cleared.
Here’s what matters more than any of it: I have no stake in which direction you take. No fund deploying into your decision. No product waiting behind the retreat. No next tier you have to climb. Once you’re in, we set the objective together; after that, we work on only your objective.
The Singapore connection is not a backdrop I rented; it’s where I’m from. The city you will see is the one I know, not the one on the postcard.
That’s not a promise about my character. It’s how the work is built.
Four days. Six sessions. The space to truly decide.
Most retreats fill the days. This one leaves them mostly open: roughly three unscheduled hours for every structured one. That open time, walking, eating, sitting with what surfaced, is where the deciding happens. The space is not downtime. It is the work.
It begins before you fly. Every place includes the Opening, a ninety-minute call that names the real problem so the four days design around it, not toward it. Everything after is designed with you, not for you.
Singapore is not a backdrop. Most mornings open with an optional 6:45am walk with me, into the city as it wakes, breakfast after. At the end of The STILL, my brother hosts a chicken rice tour: the city as it actually is, not the postcard. Accommodation is premium, chosen by me.
Day 0 · Sun
An optional welcome dinner for those arriving early.
Day 1 · Mon
The Opening Circle in the morning, then Inventory in the afternoon, where the private 1:1s begin. Dinner together.
Day 2 · Tue
Design, then Build, with 1:1s continuing through the day. A curated evening.
Day 3 · Wed
The Commitment Circle, then Send-Off, with summary 1:1s. A final dinner together.
Day 4 · Thu
Private closing sessions. Chicken rice tour, for those interested. Departures.
The Opening, included
Your first call, before you fly: the ninety-minute diagnostic that surfaces the real problem so the four days build on it. Available on its own for $5,000.
The Next Chapter Brief
Eugene’s two-page synthesis of what you decided and the first move on it, in your inbox within seventy-two hours.
Four days, facilitated
The six sessions and the structure around them, run as scheduled.
Where you stay and eat
All accommodation, chosen by Eugene. Group lunches and dinners. Breakfasts are your own, intentionally.
Private 1:1s
Distributed across the four days, not bolted on at the end.
Ninety days of the cohort
A private channel with the people who were in the room. Not a Facebook group.
One follow-up call
Ninety minutes with Eugene within sixty days, to check the move got made.
The founding rate is the first cohort’s price, named once and not repeated.
Does not include flights, ground transport, or personal expenses. Optional country-hop extensions (Malaysia, Thailand, Japan, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Vietnam, Australia, New Zealand) are arranged separately.
If stepping all the way out is the right move, some part of you already knows.
You’ve protected the mornings. You’ve booked the weekends. Each time the noise followed you.
By now you know the difference between needing more time and needing to be somewhere the noise cannot reach. One more quarter of the first will not get you to the second.
Whether this is your first time working with me or returning, the room is still protected, and the decision is still yours. The STILL is where you go to make it.
The STILL · inquire
Eugene reads every inquiry personally and replies within a few days. There is no automated sequence behind this form.