Rate: 833.9 miles per hour. When you’re freefalling at this speed, you’re only thinking about one thing—the desire to live.

The lead-up to this moment had been a lifetime of bold decisions and redefining risk at every turn. However, none of that mattered now. The radio was silent as the spin became more violent. This silence was deafening.

At 128,000 feet, everything is precarious. During an uncontrolled spin, there are only a few possible outcomes. One, blood rushes to the limbs and rids the brain of oxygen. A total blackout results. Unconsciously spinning in space. The alternative is too much blood rushing to the head—and then the pressure inside the skull builds like the pressure in a beer can that’s been left in the freezer for too long. Eventually your blood has only one way out—your eyeballs.

No good. When you’re spinning uncontrollably for 67 seconds, it feels like an eternity. Alone, every second is your life flashing right before your eyes.

Felix Baumgartner is still here to tell his story—and he regained control in time to accomplish one of the biggest feats in the history of human free fall.

Was it risky? It depends on who you ask.

The Dream of a Lifetime

Just 67 seconds earlier, Felix had been standing on the edge of a custom-made space capsule. Decked out in a handmade spacesuit adorned with the Red Bull logo, the whole world was watching—including his girlfriend, a mother who couldn’t bear to watch, and a close circle of friends, all waiting for him 24 miles down. He was about to embark on a lifelong dream—flying. Literally. Ever since he was a little boy, Felix had dreamed of flying. That dream had led to his being known as one of the most accomplished daredevils and stuntmen in history. But this was different.

The training had been the most grueling challenge of Felix’s life. Several mishaps, technical issues, a nearly fatal training mistake, and a total anxiety shutdown were part of the story. But something was pushing Felix to take this leap. Something within him was guiding him through the dark moments and the sleepless nights.

It would have been easy to rest on his laurels and the YouTube highlights of doing the impossible. He was already a living legend, with nothing to prove. Yet something was pulling at him, and he couldn’t afford not to listen.

That day at 12:06 p.m. Felix took the leap of his life with the entire world watching.

You Have a Quest to Take, Too

I know what you’re thinking: you have no plans to jump out of a space capsule and break the speed of sound anytime soon. You’re not a daredevil, BASE jumper, or extreme sport athlete. I’m not either, and I’ll stick to my two, run-of-the-mill skydiving experiences for now. They were fun, even if the pilot did look like a knockoff version of the guitarist from Metallica and made way too many “this is my first day” jokes.

However, you have a lot more in common with Felix than you think: there’s a quest you’ve been waiting to take. And every day that passes without you taking it is another chance you’ll wind up thinking about what could have been.

I don’t want that for you, but most importantly—you don’t want that for you. You’re here to take the quest, the ride of a lifetime. And your leap is the catalyst to light that quest on fire and write the life story you can’t wait to experience. The life you look forward to coming back to after a vacation, because the thrill of living it exceeds the fantasy of escaping.

This is exactly where I found myself on a frosty New Year’s Eve night when everything changed.

December 31, 2014—10:36 p.m. New York, New York

I’m sitting at a big table in a Manhattan restaurant, surrounded by friends and the sounds of clinking glasses and belly laughter. It’s New Year’s Eve and the energy is palpable, with busboys gunning in and out at exactly the right time so as not to knock into the waitress who’s taking one too many orders.

I’m seated at the table, but I’m not there. Something is missing. I’ve felt this way for a little while now, and I don’t know what to do. It’s easy to admit you’re lost when things aren’t working. But what about when people think they are? I’ve had trouble waking up over the past 14 days. For the first time since high school, all I want to do is stay in bed when morning comes around.

The drinks start coming, and I’m on the hook for a ribeye. Bone-in, flown in from Nebraska—or so they say—for a cool $57. I excuse myself, although I’m not sure that any words come out of my mouth.

I find myself walking. It’s 13 degrees out, and I’m supposed to be in the bathroom and rejoining the dinner table soon. Except that I’m headed in the opposite direction. I feel the burn of the cold on my face and the windchill in my bones. I don’t know where I’m going, yet I know exactly where I’m going. I need space. I need to find myself.

Desperately.

I walk until I find an open patch of land—something that looks like an old football field—and instantly I’m drawn to it. Maybe I simply want to relive the glory days that didn’t happen, but I walk into the field. And without thinking, I’m now sprinting for my life with everything I’ve got—Michael Kors pants and shirt included. I repeat the cycle of walking and sprinting a few times, not thinking about who may be witnessing this: it is New York, after all.

Once I’ve expended every ounce of energy, I take a seat. And that’s when I lose it—the flood of tears come rushing out of me. I can’t stop. I feel alone. I feel tired. I feel disconnected. The tools I’ve used for so long no longer work. And for the first time, I get honest with myself. I hate where I live. I hate the people. I hate the energy. I hate the attitude.

I need to get out.

Without thinking, I pull out my iPhone and hit the big red button. The recording starts. For the next four and a half minutes, I let it flow. I’m detailing where I’m going to be in one year. And for the first time, I can see and feel it. It’s real. And it’s time.

I lay out what’s deep inside on the recorder, frame by frame. As the words roll off the tip of my tongue, I’m impressed by how good they sound. They feel right. I’m making grand plans to change where I live, start a new business, meet the partner of my dreams, and rediscover the passion that I used to experience daily. I’m outlining my quest in a tantalizing, 4K-resolution picture.

Except there’s a problem. Not just any problem: there’s a Fort Knox–sized obstacle in the way. I recently signed my name to a five-year lease. Quick math says I’m on the hook for $422,000. Oh yeah, forgot about that. I’ve got 11 employees. I’ve got a bricks-and-mortar business. My family is here. Everything I’ve known and created for the last decade is here. I have no blueprint. I have no prospects. I have no plan.

And yet, I believe. Somehow, someway, it’s going to happen. It has to, right?

The Edge Is Your Invitation

What I experienced that night was the edge. The edge is the place where the hair on the back of your neck stands up. In a split second, you’ve achieved a level of clarity unlike any other. You know exactly what you must do. There are no excuses, and there’s no space for anything except unapologetic belief. The edge engulfs every part of who you are.

And then it’s gone. Only a few moments later, what was once clarity is now confusion. What was an uplifting life force is now a prison cell. What felt limitless now feels risky. What once felt possible is now a fantasy.

What is your edge? Own it and reap the rewards—or watch it disappear. Inspiration is quickly replaced by worst-case scenarios. Possibility is traded for avoiding the unknown. Belief is swapped for the reason you can’t do it. Potential is transformed into “being realistic.” A moment of radical insight is shoved into a convenient box labeled “someday.”

The edge is your invitation. It’s the launchpad for your quest. This is the moment. Often we hear of life’s most defining moments. These usually tend to be big life events society has laid out for us: school, college, marriage, career, the birth of a child, a big accomplishment, and so on.

I’d argue that there is no such thing as a defining moment, because if right now is the only moment, then naturally it is the most defining. What I’m really saying here is simple: everything counts.

Especially when you’re at your edge.

How You Get There Matters Less Than Getting There

Your leap is about a decision. This decision is rooted in conviction, where every part of your body is in alignment. How you get there is less important.

Would we rather get there in a state of bliss and inspiration while sipping on our favorite cocktail? Of course, but that’s not always the case. The reality is that our lives will have moments where we take leaps out of sheer pain, recognizing that we never want to experience the same circumstances again. But we’ll also have moments where we’re in a state of inspiration and are being pulled by a vision we can’t not bring to life.

Either way, what matters is the result: you were at a place where you chose yourself and committed to a new path. You stepped into the unknown—and reaped incredible rewards.

You’re Here for a Reason and It’s Time to Unleash It

There are no mistakes. You didn’t pick up this book for no reason. This life is everything, and you’d better hold onto it with everything you’ve got. Because putting the leap off for another day, another week, another month, or another year is too much. Every day that passes is a stark reminder of what you haven’t done, where you lose a fraction of belief. These fractions add up, until one day you’re living a life you can’t wait to run away from.

If you don’t take your leap, it’s only going to get worse. The voice during your quiet moments will get louder, even though you’ll be equipped to drown it out. With every minute that passes, there are missed opportunities for you to step into who you really are.

The stakes have never been higher. And I want you to embrace that, once and for all. This is no time for sugarcoating. It’s no time to put things off. You’re here, and that’s all that matters. That tells me something—the story of who you are and what you want, including:

• You’re tired of the path you’ve been on. Belief in a better future drives our sense of fulfillment in this world. It compels us toward powerful decisions and lets us put our head on our pillow at night knowing we’re moving toward our dreams. One of the ways of measuring this belief is simply to look one, three, and five years down the path you’re currently on and ask the following questions:
• When you imagine your future, are you excited and inspired?
• Do you see a greater, bolder version of yourself coming to life?
• Are hope, possibility, and growth on the horizon?
• If the answer to any of these questions is no, that’s a great thing. It means you’re willing to get honest, which is the first step toward changing anything.
• You’re tired of feeling stuck in the same place. We’ve all felt stuck. It’s debilitating, and it’s a tough pill to swallow. We’re pulled by something bigger yet stay in the same place. It impacts every part of our life. We want more, but we simply don’t know how to get it.
• Is there a part of your life where you’re feeling stuck and in a rut?
• You’re tired of thinking bold but not acting bold. Accessing information about business, success, personal development, and living your best life has never been easier. Yet many people seem to be able to regurgitate the principles but don’t have much to show for it. You don’t want to simply know what it takes to be bold—you’re here to be bold.
• Have you recently gotten excited about the possibility of change and yet woken up a few weeks or months later with nothing to show for it?
• You’re tired of others around you telling you to “get real.” Not everyone is going to “get” your leap and your dreams. Sometimes those closest to you will try to bring you down to keep you safe. Many won’t agree about your path, but you must be willing to override their feedback and listen to your own. I’ll be giving you some tools that will show you how to use this as leverage instead of being held back.
• Do you have a dream, a calling, a vision inside that you’ve been afraid to let out, or that others have told you isn’t worthy?
• You’ve taken a leap in the past but are holding back. You remember taking big leaps in life—maybe you’ve already launched a business and taken big risks to reap powerful rewards. But now that seems like a distant memory, and you’ve been putting off another leap that’s been calling you.
• Have you lost the boldness behind your original leap and lack the courage to step into your next one?
• Something is missing, and you don’t know what it is. You feel it, you sense it—and it’s always in the back of your head. Something is missing, but you don’t know what to do with this feeling.
• Do you get a sense you’re not where you should be—yet you don’t know how to connect the dots?

If any of those resonated with you, you’ve come to the right place.

Insight Is Overrated—You Already Know What to Do

You’re on your way to accomplishing the first part of any leap: getting honest about where you are today. Don’t underestimate the power of this. We’ve been conditioned to mask (and even blatantly lie about) our edge. We’re uncomfortable facing ourselves or even telling the grocery store clerk the truth when he or she asks about our day.

This lack of clarity robs us from the much-needed power to change our circumstances. You may be also be thinking you’re here to optimize your life and business and create exponential results. That, too, starts with getting honest. Because no matter how much growth you’ve experienced, there’s always another leap waiting for us around the corner. This is the beautiful game of life, the push and pull, the so-called dance between who we are today and who we’re becoming.

You already know what to do. This is why insights are cheap and a dime a dozen. But before we get you to a place of identifying the leap of your life, we’re going to have to get rid of what’s been in the way.

Because something has been holding you back, and the price is the heftiest you could ever pay: your dreams.