Nick Karnel Williams

Nick Karnel Williams

Father | Husband | Mentor

At times I will get a moment to share about my life through writing. Thank you for reading

  • The Greater Responsibility

    It’s taken some time to write back, and there’s a reason for that. I didn’t want AI to take over the way I write. I needed this to be as transparent as possible, even with its assistance. My wife is like a grammar Nazi when it comes to writing, but I’ve made real strides to get better.

    As I reflect on the year, on 2025, I’m reminded of the funerals that took place and the deaths that occurred. I remember seeing people place a MATAI watch on the hand of someone who had passed. It’s crazy to think about, but it shows how much this represents.

    That thought stayed with me when I went to church today and saw Brother Mitch wearing his watch, one his daughter Anne-Marie bought him. He was so proud. He’s an old-school guy, and Anne said he never wore a watch before this. That hit me. This is deeper than just a brand and deeper than how we created it. It’s a true testament to the power of God.

    Watching last year unfold, I felt completely compressed financially. In all honesty, we couldn’t make much money last year. We probably lost close to $300K by not running marketing. But that was because I came back to God, and I felt like I had to grow all over again, for the better of the company and for myself.

    I felt like God was stripping the want for money away from me. I had to learn how to go without. There were times I said to my wife, “Babe, I don’t know how we’re going to do it this month.” That desire, that flesh-eating need to make money and spend it, but spend it on what? Rubbish things that don’t actually satisfy you.

    Although I did buy a new couch this summer, because I sat on the old one most of last year asking God what I should be doing.

    My focus for 2025 was to build out the Higher Learning program, and at one point I was ready to pull it. In complete honesty, a mother donated money to the program with the intention that it was for children, then later made it out like it was a loan. I won’t go too far into it, but my older brother was caught up in that mess too. There’s no lying here, just transparency.

    I wanted to pull the Higher Learning program because it felt internally broken. It was either that, or God would remove them from my internal trust structure. God chose to remove both of them. With that came collateral. Parents pulled their kids without even saying anything.

    But by the end of the year, something unexpected happened. The program grew. We added a second program in Penrith. The end-of-year showcase was incredible. The Gospel of Jesus Christ was strong in our young people.

    God showed me what I should be doing, and Higher Learning is part of it. That’s why, in about a month, we officially launch the HLRN brand to the world. Too many people make excuses about why they can’t do something because government support or funding doesn’t come through. I’m not making excuses. I’m building from scratch. I’m building a brand with the hope that one day it funds itself, the same way something simple and community-driven like the Girl Scouts does.

    The greater responsibility now is to steward what’s coming. To understand that people are not here to be taken advantage of. Being on the ground, in community, was the biggest win for me last year. There is no throne, just real and genuine people.

    That’s all I can give for now.

    Happy New Year, everyone.
    Thank you for reading if you did.
    Love you.

  • Don’t Know How to Read, Don’t Know How to Fail

    Don’t Know How to Read, Don’t Know How to Fail

    It’s crazy to even write this. The other morning I woke up and felt like God was telling me to write a play — and that it would be called “Don’t Know How to Read, Don’t Know How to Fail.”

    At first, I laughed to myself. It made no sense. But the feeling was so strong it almost made me panic. I didn’t know where to start, what to write, or how to even hold the idea.

    I dropped my kids off at school, and on the way home it clicked. This was the beginning story of our crew. The early days of the brand. The raw beginnings of what we were building.

    By the time I got home, something took over. I literally smashed out the first act in just four hours. The words poured out. By that same night — around 11pm — I had the bones of the whole play sitting there in front of me. I’d never written like that before. It was like it was already written — I just had to catch it.

    The title? The meaning? That will all make sense in time. For now, I’ll just say this: you’ll have to come and watch it when it’s ready.

  • My First Cigarette

    Remember your first cigarette? Mine was in primary school. One of the boys decided it would be cool to steal a smoke from their parents. After school, five of us would sneak off into the bush, sharing a puff while trying not to cough. It’s funny how I still remember that moment. I ran straight home afterward and went straight to the shower. Can you imagine the fear of getting caught? Especially as a Pacific kid. I never wanted to do it again—at least not until high school.

    I was around 13 then, heading toward the field at Massey High School and trying to fit in with the cool kids. Back then, you could buy and sell smokes for a dollar; a pack was around six dollars. All I wanted was to be accepted in that crowd. It wasn’t exactly clever, but for years after, I found myself on and off smoking throughout my teens. I think I didn’t fully commit until I was about 20.

    Those years felt like an ongoing addiction I could never quite shake. Before vapes, I worked in corporate security for over a decade. A manager once told me about e-cigarettes—how you could buy them in China for $3 and have them shipped to New Zealand for free. I thought, okay—strawberry air, pineapple air. The funny thing is, I started selling them around 99 bucks because that was the going price. Not a huge hustle, but enough. Because I smoked so much of it, I ended up quitting for three years by focusing on an intense exercise routine.

    When I returned to the scene, I worked with guys who didn’t really smoke until I was back with the Island boys at Rooty Hill. Smoking was just part of the culture there, and again, I wanted to be part of the crowd.

    I didn’t find many reasons to quit until recently, when I had a conversation with God. He literally took it from me. It’s been a few months now, and it’s funny how your senses of smell come back. Now I can smell again—and can I just say? Why didn’t anyone tell me, except my wife, that it stinks? Lol.

    This message has been on my heart this morning, so I thought I’d share. What’s the point of this blog? Well… if you’re aligned with God and you know you’ve got a habit, ask Him to take it away. And He will.

    Twenty-seven years of on-and-off smoking, and I believe I’ll never go back because of Gods help to make me realise my flesh does not control me. I’ve been blessed with a community, and I’ve been blessed to teach our young ones about making good choices so this is apart of many I will make to not be a hypocrite as I teach. Again!

    The subject of smoking has never been brought up until now but for anyone who needs help. Pick up the Bible and start reading 🙂

  • Only a month

    It’s taken me over a month to write this blog, and honestly, life’s just been happening.

    Between business matters, staying grounded, and my boys getting back into footy, church, and learning scripture, time has moved fast. Right now, I’m sitting in jobs, handling responsibilities, and going through some serious spiritual growth with our Lord Jesus Christ.

    This past month has been deep. I’ve been having real conversations—honest ones—about fake praying, the nonsense in modern Christianity, and what it means to truly keep it real through prayer. I’m not praying just to be seen “at the gates”… I’m trying to make it inside. Inside the house. Inside the room where God dwells.

    You know what I mean? We’ve all done those “open one eye while your other eye’s on your food” type of prayers. Half-hearted. Lazy. Or we see someone post a Bible verse online and suddenly we’re all “biblical” for five minutes. That part-time, casual Christianity isn’t cutting it for me anymore—and to be honest, I don’t care who feels uncomfortable reading that.

    I don’t care what customers think, either. If you don’t want to support the brand because of my belief in Jesus, then see ya, mate. It doesn’t bother me. Before I came back to God, He already loved me. He still walked with me. He’s helped me build what we’re becoming—a leader in the Pacific, a role model for others, and someone who’s not afraid to speak truth.

    Pointing things out and being real? That’s who I am.

    I’m not getting caught up in the hype, or in someone’s patriotic Christian beliefs just because it gets views on Facebook or Instagram. Yes, it bugs me, but I also understand: this might be the only platform God gives me over the next few years. So I’ll use it properly.

    The best part? My kids are meeting Jesus. My sister, my cousin too. As men, we lead our families, and that’s something I know how to do. It’s not about faking the walk—it’s about living it with everything you’ve got.

  • Obedience Over Disobedience

    A few weeks ago, God blessed me with a powerful vision. It began with me placing one leg on a bridge. Several days later, I found myself with both legs firmly planted on that bridge. At first, it felt like a long journey to the other side, and I thought to myself, “I’ll get there eventually.” But then, one day during a drive, I recommitted my faith to God, and that bridge disappeared.

    The image reminded me of Alcatraz, yet it wasn’t a prison. Rather, it symbolised my path with God into a territory I couldn’t yet see. The thought of going back felt like attempting to swim from Alcatraz without knowing if I could survive the journey back to where I was. I realised that my fear of returning to the Lord stemmed from a deep denial: I knew that if I came back, there would be no turning back again. I would have to face the reality of consequences, and I wasn’t prepared for it, wasn’t prepared because I was now aware.

    Now, I find myself excited and overwhelmed by my faith in the Lord. Months ago, I acknowledged that there was no one I could turn to while building this business. Why? Because we are pioneers as a Pacific Island watch brand, aspiring to reach uncharted heights. While many have accomplished amazing things in their field, there’s no clear roadmap for us. At times, I feel frustrated, considering that seeking advice from others might not be for me, after all, this journey has been gifted to me and my uso, Andrew, to lead.

    Every entrepreneur encounters mental and spiritual roadblocks, and I was no exception. I saw significant changes through our work and evolved over time, yet something still felt missing. I’ve come to understand that God never left me throughout my 20-year journey. He has been walking alongside me, even when I lost faith, backslid and didn’t always make the best choices.

    I didn’t have to hit rock bottom to find my way back. I always envisioned needing to reach the ground before returning, but I realise now that suffering wasnt required. Too long, I denied the holy blessings that have always been present.

    God, I thank you for realigning me with your path. As I step into the future, I will lead in your name and make the necessary changes in my life. I commit to walking with you but just know I will fail at times. I will walk in faith as we build this brand; I will walk in faith as I nurture my family; I will walk in faith as I connect with others, obeying and striving to improve over time.

    To anyone who reads this, my prayer is that you, too, find God. You discover your way back or be guided forward towards our Lord Jesus Christ.

    From now until the end, let us walk together in faith.

  • A mate named Stan

    Forever I am grateful

    I am greatful to be a father. A husband. For am I greatful to be alive. For I am greatful for what is happening within my life.

    Weight has had burden upon me for the last several weeks. The weight. The pressures. Don’t always have to be just about business or all life. But a spiritual weight. That even in this moment I write and I stay on track with this blog—I feel. It has been heavy. And the Spirit of God is playing strong in life right now. And although I feel it heavily, it’s better than it was several weeks ago.

    In 2004, as I said or mentioned earlier—I gave my life to Jesus Christ.

    I want to tell you about Stan. Stan was a friend of ours. He wasn’t super close with us, but he was a friend that kind of lingered throughout our friends group in high school. Stan used to have some major parties at his house where the boys would go over and get drunk. I played First 15 rugby with Stan at Gizzy Boys, and he wasn’t like someone I would hang with unless I was just trying to be one of the boys. I believe at the time I was looking for acceptance with the boys—go out, get drunk, start some rumbles, throw hands, play up, go try to sleep around with whoever—and walk what I call being a part of the crowd.

    Over time—and it was probably sometime after school—Stan found himself hanging around me, Santana and Silver (or Andrew, known by some). Andrew at the time—ex Black Power member. Myself and Santana played rugby and formed our brotherhood called 4221—meaning forever together to love one another. It was a name given to us by my older brother Jay, who was the tutor and leader at the time. Something we got tattooed on our arms and something we hold close today. This was our group. Our gang. Our ministry. It became invested into our DNA.

    The three of us would just sit, talk, and walk together. Do things together. Hang out. These are my closest brothers in arms—Santana especially—and I can’t wait to reflect on my relationships with these boys, but I have to move forward. I hope you get the picture—it is a true brotherhood.

    I remember when we toured to under 21s together to play for Poverty Bay. On the bus ride to Palmerston, it was here I got to know Silver. We just connected. It was here he played the Rapture Ruckus album. And it was here I heard the song “Magnified” by Vini Tautoa. It was here I felt the presence of God, and it was here I could talk with someone about it.

    Silver at the time was in ministry with the House of Breakthrough and Pastor Norm. He was in a crew called Zero T. And at the time, Higher Learning was up and running—which me and Santana were a part of. It was at this time we formed our friendship. And for whatever reason, I ended up just hanging out with Silver when I got back. I made his home my home. I made his parents my parents. His mum is my mum. And his dad is my dad. They were parents away from home and they also made me theirs. I will forever love them. Their family will be mine forever.

    Let’s fast forward a bit. For whatever reason Stan starts hanging out with us. He becomes the fourth member for a period of time. He drives his car around and hangs with the Higher Learning boys. He’s like the white fair Māori boy who’s kind of a clown at times but just the funny and fun guy to always have around. Stan was just a class act.

    For six months, I believe, we went on a bender. We didn’t have jobs and just drank every night—all of us. For whatever reason, we always found alcohol around us and just drank.

    But it was one night—this very night—this very night we went for a drive. Just silly things like stalling the car up a hill, silver getting stood on his face in middle of night while asleep and no alcohol, and just real random things which I wish I remembered more of. But it was when we went back to Silver’s house to crash things happened at 13 Albert Street.

    You see, everyone used to just go and crash the night over at Silvers so this was no different, and I used to do it all the time. My home away from home. It was the one night we didn’t drink—that this happened.

    We are all back at Silver’s. I went to sleep on top of the bunk bed. And in the middle of the night, I felt like I had been thrown off the bunk to the ground. It was here I rushed to the bathroom. It was here I literally vomited the whole sink up with spew. And this sink was big—it was one of the old-school sinks. I remember looking up and seeing my eyes—red. It was here—and this makes me shake thinking about it—but I saw the devil in me for the first time. Which freaked me out. I was like, “What the heck was this?”

    I was freaked out. I didn’t know what was happening. I went back to bed. Everyone was still asleep. I went back to bed, and the same thing happened again. I was thrown off the bed and vomited again—the whole sink’s worth. And I looked up and saw the devil. I knew then it was him. There wasn’t a full-on visual but I was red and that ugly picture we see or think we know of the devil is the same one I saw—that’s what I felt like I was looking at. The ugliest thing ever.

    Can I just say—my spirit shakes as I write this. I was totally freaked out. I didn’t know what was happening.

    I went back to bed. And honestly, for whatever reason—I remember waking up outside the church, on the bench outside of it the next day, with all the boys. Like hungover, but not cause we hadnt even drunk the night before.

    I remember walking into House of Breakthrough. Feeling pissed but conflicted in my spirit. And Pastor Peter Mortlock just happened to be preaching.

    You know when they call you to the altar? At the end?

    Stan got up.

    Stan got up and walked to the altar. And I was like—what the heck is happening right now? This guy has no idea about Jesus. This guy doesn’t know God. And this guy just got here. I was in shock, because I felt like I had been trying to learn about God for so long. So long.

    And Stan was kind of new to the team. I don’t think it was jealousy—but I was in shock. The night before I had this demonic thing happen, and now this? Like what is going on? My heart had been pounding for weeks of going to church—and I never went up. I felt like I would look like a clown. I thought about the feeling of the altar call. I kept denying it.

    And for whatever reason—I go blank.

    And I go up next with Stan.

    And my soul is saved, feels saved. Through Pastor Peter Mortlock, he prayed for us, he was justa guess speaker travelling from Auckland at the time too.

    I don’t know what was happening, but I could no longer deny the call.

    It was here I felt it was my time to go to Jesus. It was here I wanted to accept him into my life. It was here I would find some sort of understanding.

    Was my decision based off Stan? No. But I had pulled back for so long from the altar call. And Stan walks. And I walk.

    It was the most unlikely guy that brought me forward finally. And it would be him who helped me just get over the line. It was an influenced decision.

    The reason I never went to the altar was because so many people—including pastors—were trying to talk God into me. It put me off., but you cannot deny the spirit, I didn’t want to be that dude. So I just never responded. Every time. However hard the spirit came of my times in church. I denied the Altar call, every single time.

    It was the unlikeliest person who would help me get over the line. It was Stan. He wasn’t there to preach to me or save me. And for whatever reason, he helped me get over—after all the attacks and all the things God was doing in my life.

    It’s strange right? But it happened.

    And for years now—decades—I have denied God. And at 40 years of age now I find myself back in God’s presence.

    Same scenarios. But a new level of maturity in my walk—and in my faith.

    On Tuesday—I heard God’s calling. And I said to Him, “Okay.”
    I accept You.

    His words were just that:

    Come to the Lord.

    So now—my walk and my faith in God is resurrected. And now, we start to walk through the presence of God.

  • Don’t motivate me through man

    Don’t motivate me through man.

    It’s the conversation I had with God this morning as I woke up and felt a shift through my heart.

    For the last month or two, I picked up a Bible and started reading because I haven’t been able to deny the blessings that have happened in my life, in our company’s life, and in the lives of the people around me for the past several years.

    My uso Andrew’s faith has been so strong since the beginning of this chapter, even before it started. It was God that called him to do this work for the brand.

    I’m not a winner, but a sinner—that’s how I’ve looked at my life for decades now. I first gave myself to God back in 2004 when Pastor Peter Mortlock from City Impact Church came through to Gisborne. The Lord and the devil played huge parts in my life at that time, and as fate would have it, I’ve backslid for many years since then. But I couldn’t deny it this morning.

    I woke up, and I had been thinking about it for quite some time, especially this week. My heart has been conflicted. I’ve tossed and turned and made it a goal this year to read the Bible.

    I can’t explain why I started reading, but I did—I believe it was just time. I’m currently up to the book of Samuel, going through the whole thing for myself.

    I have struggled with my faith for years, and this morning was about getting up and having that conversation with God. Get up, get ready, and tell myself not to go. But I knew I needed to, so I did. I had a conversation with God on the way and said to Him, “Don’t motivate me through man. Don’t let my emotions or what I’ve seen be the reason I go. I’ll go, but be at the forefront of this decision.” So I went. I didn’t tell my uso Pastor Albert I was coming—I just showed up, and it just so happened he was preaching.

    His message today was about obedience and disobedience—40 to 7. Forty years of Moses and seven days of Joshua. I won’t go into detail as it was something I connected with in a way that made sense to me.

    My faith in God has been a rocky one, but I can’t deny all the blessings we’ve received. To be handed something like Matai and to do things that have never been done in the Pacific—I have spoken about God many times, but I haven’t fully committed my soul. I believe I’m ready to take the next steps.

    The trauma and pain I’ve endured over time, and the hypocrisy of some Christians being at church while I felt judged, led me to lie to myself over and over again. Listening to people talk about faith used to make me think, “Ah, shut up, man. I don’t want to hear it.” There were so many layers of my life I didn’t want to commit to, for whatever reason.

    Look, I’m a Christian, I think. Jesus is big to me, but I haven’t put Him at the forefront. I didn’t grow up in a household filled with faith—just bits and pieces from different people.

    This morning was about me and God directly. I never wanted to feel like I had to speak through man to speak to God. I didn’t want to be blocked. I have spoken to Him through my thoughts and through the gifts I’ve been given.

    In 2005, I received a message about how I would live my life and how it would determine how I would walk in faith. “Your worship is not being in church waving your hands—your worship is giving 100% to what you love. That is your worship to God.” This message came to me during a time of suicidal thoughts, depression, anxiety, and pain. I was broken then, but that message made perfect sense to me, and it’s something I’ve carried through ever since.

    If you know me, you know I always give my best because to me, that’s my worship—still to this day.

    I don’t sleep like others. I take every day like it’s my last most of the time. I’ve denied the Lord so many times, but He has never shied away from loving and blessing me.

    It’s a reminder for myself—my faith and my relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ to follow, put Him first, and right now I’m really trying. I want to be me. I don’t want to be motivated by what people say because I know I’m meant to lead. But right now, I need to be stripped of my alphaness and ego. I need to be a student again because as smart as I might think I am, I’m not. I’m not the baby in the limelight of things.

  • When you choose to be brown

    We’ve never shied away from who we are. We’re not fashion stylists or obsessed with clothing. I still rock my lavalava and jandals, still wear my Kmart shorts and AS Colour tees.

    As soon as I could make money as a young adult, I bought the boy racer car, the subs, the clothes, the shoes. I bought colored shirts—even pink ones—the Dax wax, the perfume. But I was still confused about money. I went to work, made it, and then spent it on debt. What’s changed now? Debt’s still part of life, but everything else has taken a major back seat. These days, I make sure I’ve got some clean shoes—usually Nikes or Timberlands if I’m going out. I don’t go out buying fancy suits or custom-tailored outfits anymore. Sure, there was a time early in the business when I did, back when I was unhealthy and overweight. I lost a few pounds mainly just to be able to breathe again, but that lifestyle never really changed.

    When it comes to fashion, I wouldn’t call myself stylish—and honestly, I don’t give a shit. The perception of what a wealthy man is… it’s just that—a perception. Like with Jordan shoes—it didn’t matter what clothes we wore as long as we had the shoes. That spoke volumes about how we saw ourselves and made our fashion statements: it didn’t matter what we wore, just that we had a MATAI watch. Nothing else mattered.

    We’re privileged to have the community vibe with us on this. It’s gone way beyond cultural relevance. MATAI is a brand that we’re seeing more and more on stage alongside custom attire. It’s crasy to think that people have accepted our brand to that extent.

    And yeah, sometimes our own people feel the need to “dress up” for someone else’s standard. They’ll wear a MATAI watch to a formal event as a way of staying connected without feeling out of place. I used to think it was stupid, but I’ve come to accept it. Ideally, we should all feel proud and wear our colors loud, but we still live in a world where people want to be accepted. Most of y’all will wear something else in a different crowd, but if you ever want to feel connected, you’ll choose us. You know you look like a jackass talking about a Rolex around our people. MATAI is a premium brand, but it’s more than that—it’s about connection and transparency, about not pretending to be perfect.

    We support our communities, even when we can’t always afford to. What you see is what you get, and that’s how our people roll. We’re one of the biggest brands to hit the culture like MATAI has, and we’re here to make an impact—not just on fashion, but on being relevant and being true to ourselves.

    So here’s the takeaway from my random thoughts: Don’t choose when to be brown if you’ve always been about it. Be you, be happy, and let’s set examples of not giving a fuck. We’re not trying to bribe you with fake marketing or dirty money. We’re just showing you our perspective—and that’s why I’ve got this blog. It’s Friday night, and I’m just here talking with you.

  • Shifting Priorities: Beyond the Game

    What was once important is no longer as important.

    I’m sitting at my son’s training, watching him go through his drills. He’s moved up from 4s to 2s and jumped two grades this year. When he made the team just a couple of weeks ago, he was excited. He’s a decent player, but league—or footy, as they call it here—isn’t as important to me as it was to many of us growing up, dreaming of playing for the All Blacks.

    As a parent, that dream of my kids playing sports at a high level doesn’t appeal to me the way it once might have. Life has shown me that not everything lasts forever.

    Back in 2003, I played rugby union for Gisborne Boys’ High First XV. The truth? I hated the game. Not because I wasn’t good, but because I wasn’t a contact guy—or rather, I wasn’t an “injury guy,” and injuries happened too often. If I’m being completely honest, I only played to impress girls. That was the mindset of a young teen. My real love was basketball. MJ and Kobe—those were my guys. I grew up in the ‘90s, watching games on Channel 2 at my Nana’s house on Sundays at noon. I loved the sport, but I was too short, too heavy, and nowhere near skilled enough to take it further.

    Sports can lead to great careers, no doubt. I admire what some athletes have done after their playing days, but for many, we have no idea what happens next. Some go broke. Some struggle. Who knows?

    For my kids, my biggest goal isn’t for them to become sports stars—it’s for them to grow into kind, good human beings. To follow whatever dream they choose. To plan, execute, and be consistent. I want them to fail early so they can learn the lessons that bring gratitude and success earlier in life.

  • Friday Nights & the Meaning of Success

    Friday nights remind me of the doors—the years spent working them alongside some of my closest brothers in arms. Weekends like this make me reflect on what friendship, brotherhood, and true connection really look like. A lot of long nights, 12-hour shifts, eight-hour shifts, fights, and violence.

    These days, Friday nights are different. I vacuum the house, tidy up, take a good shower, and, before I settle in to chill, I watch Netflix. But there are nights I miss it—the camaraderie, the laughs, the caffeine-fuelled conversations, the late-night coffees, the cigarette breaks. The shared experiences. The shared life. The brotherhood of men striving to be better, to grow, to want more out of life.

    But what does that “more” look like? What does success look like?

    To some, success is material—having the house, the car, the bank account that lets you do as you please. To others, it’s recognition—being seen as someone who “made it.” But what is true wealth? What is true success?

    It’s a conversation I’ve had often this week with some of my closest people. The deeper I dive into my journey, the more my perspective shifts. I see the pressure, the responsibility, and the financial sacrifice that come with it.

    I once saw a TikTok video where a guy said, “If you haven’t been close to bankruptcy at least three times, you’re not truly running a business.” At the time, I laughed because we were doing well—profitable, even a little reckless. But then, you hit the down periods. January to June isn’t our strongest season, and maybe I just haven’t figured out which country I need to sell into more.

    This week, I’ve been thinking about success more deeply. Not just in a business sense, but in a life sense.

    A few weeks ago, I was sitting in the waiting area at Blacktown Hospital while my brother was sick. I looked at the security guards and thought, These guys are lucky. Not because of the job itself—because, let’s be real, some jobs suck—but because they get to clock in, do their shift, and go home. They get to switch off.

    For three years, I haven’t switched off. Four-hour sleeps. Waking up thinking about MATAI. Going to bed thinking about MATAI. The reality of entrepreneurship is that your mind never rests. And yet, I find myself appreciating the simple things more—the stability of a 9-to-5, the ability to switch off, the small luxuries of life: food on the table, the lights on, the internet working, a roof over your head, a car to drive, the ability to take a holiday.

    A lot of people don’t realise that this—this everyday life—is success.

    Success isn’t just the money or the status. It’s waking up, breathing fresh air, appreciating your loved ones, contributing to society in a way that fulfils you. It’s dreaming, executing, failing, learning, and pushing forward. It’s love. It’s laughter. It’s growth.

    I once heard Kobe Bryant say, “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey.” And every day, as I navigate the highs and lows of running MATAI, I get that a little more.

    So tonight, I sit here thinking about my brothers still working the doors. They don’t carry the same weight of responsibility that I do now—leading a brand that represents communities across the U.S., New Zealand, Australia, and the islands. Raising three boys. Providing for my family. Keeping my wife happy. Finding time to enjoy life.

    What is success to you? Could you be happy just being happy?

    Appreciate your time on this earth. It’s not forever. None of us know when we’ll leave this place.

    For me, I’ve come to realise that my success won’t fully be seen in my lifetime. By the time MATAI reaches its true potential, its full power and legacy, I may not even be here to witness it. But if I get to see a glimpse of it, I’ll be grateful. And that, to me, is success.

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