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What If the Best Return Isn’t on Investment, But on Experience?
February 18, 2026
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min read
This week, my son shares a perspective shaped by a backcountry ski trip with founders and families in British Columbia. What began as an adventure turned into a reflection on how we measure success, challenging how we think about returns.
Written By: Brett Pedersen
My family is very entrepreneurial. It is the only thing I have known over the course of my life. Over several years of watching my parents, I have had a front row seat to observe what makes them tick.
I have observed that my parents initially embarked on a journey to create a life of choice. One that they could then build meaning and significance into. Along the way, they became obsessed with their craft and in order to be excellent, they committed to a life of personal growth and development.
I have seen how their determination is what has propelled them to endure several trials and tribulations on their hero's journey. It ultimately allowed them to achieve the means to build the life they desired.
Entrepreneurship is a noble calling steeped in the deep human desire for freedom and autonomy. The path is often long and fraught with pitfalls and setbacks. Painful lessons build the callouses and wit necessary for victory and achievement. I have not only observed this with my parents, when I consider the many founders I have come to know over the years, this is a common theme.
Yet what I find surprising is that even after building something reputable and achieving financial liberty, many entrepreneurs still find themselves strangely unfulfilled; longing for something they can't quite name.
"I've achieved my goals. Why am I not happier?"
"I've built wealth. Why do I still want more?"
"I'm my own boss. Why don't I ever have time?"
"I've provided opportunities for my family. Why aren't we closer?"
"I've built a good reputation and earned respect. Why do I feel so lonely?"
I have observed that the same ambition, obsession, and drive that grants entrepreneurs the means to build the life they desire may in some cruel twist of faith also become the driving force for creating their own demise.
A Different Kind of Investment
This past week, I had the privilege of joining my mom, dad, and sister, along with 20 founders and their families, on a cat-skiing trip in the interior of British Columbia.
Surrounded by the awe-inspiring beauty of the Selkirk Mountains, we dove into three days of freedom and adrenaline-fueled skiing on some of the best terrain in the world. With 180 centimeters of fresh snow falling just before our arrival, the conditions were a skier’s dream.
But if you asked any of the attendees what made this trip truly unforgettable, they would not point to the powder; they would point to the people.
A diverse array of characters, personalities, perspectives; all coming together to share ties to a common love of the outdoors, immersing ourselves in a world of fun and fellowship in the backcountry.
Over the 3 days we were like big kids, playing with reckless abandon, sharing uncontrollable laughter and most importantly coming away with a sense of much deeper connections. It is what elevated what was already a rare experience into something truly priceless.
As I stepped back and observed, it became clear: this is what real wealth looks like. It is easy to equate wealth with numbers on a spreadsheet, and while the math matters, true wealth is found in how we invest our resources to live more fully.
Wealth is not just about the return on investment (ROI); it’s about return on experience (ROE) for how we use our resources.
The ROE Framework
I’m fully aware that a trip like this requires a financial investment, and I’m deeply grateful to have been included. While most of the people on this trip had accomplished extraordinary things in their careers, you would never know it in that remote mountain lodge. There were no titles, no egos, no status on display. Just a shared commitment to creating a meaningful experience together.
They chose to invest not just money, but time and presence. Through a shared love of adventure, people from vastly different backgrounds formed real connections. Connections that rarely happen in the routines of daily life.
Most of us are obsessed with our money and the returns we can gain on our investments. However money saved and spent selfishly never satisfies and reputation in the eyes of strangers will never touch the heart. What does matter and what stays, is how intentionally we invest into the relationships that matter most.
If an investment enriches your relationships and recharges your soul, isn’t that the best kind of return?
By the end of the trip, our bodies were tired, but our hearts were full, and that, I’m learning, is the mark of true wealth.
Substance Over Surface
There are many ways to measure success, but most people default to what is easy to quantify: money in the bank, titles on a resume, or the size of a social following. These are visible metrics, neatly packaged and socially rewarded. But what about the parts of life that matter most?
How do we measure the strength of our relationships?
How do we assess the health of our bodies; not by appearance, but by energy and vitality?
How do we know if we’re growing emotionally, or quietly being depleted spiritually?
These questions do not come with dashboards or scorecards. And yet, they determine the quality of our lives far more than our financial net worth ever will.
When we overemphasize what is easy to count, we risk neglecting what truly counts. That is how many leaders drift into what we call a vitality deficit: a life that looks full on paper but feels increasingly hollow in practice.
Material success and professional recognition can absolutely be good. They open doors and provide security. But the satisfaction they bring is often fleeting. What endures is far less visible: the peace of a healthy body, the strength of a deep relationship, the joy of growing in purpose, the quiet satisfaction of knowing your life aligns with what matters.
Mark Twain coined the phrase “The Gilded Age” to describe a time of great wealth and industrial progress. At first glance, the term sounded like a compliment but it was meant as a critique. Twain was pointing to a layer of gold on the surface that concealed deep cracks underneath. The same caution applies to our own lives, where we can appear successful, polished, and prosperous externally while quietly eroding on the inside.
A better alternative is to build a life that is golden all the way through. A life rich in experiences, grounded in relationships, strengthened by health, and anchored in purpose. It is the kind of life we tasted together in the backcountry, where presence mattered more than performance and connection mattered more than credentials. That is real wealth; it may be the hardest kind to count, but it is the only kind that will always count.
Your Next Investment
As we look ahead, it’s worth auditing our calendars and priorities.
Where are we investing our time?
What experiences are we creating with the people who matter most?
The mountains will be there. The powder will fall. The real question is whether we are building the kind of wealth that compounds in meaning, connection, and joy; or chasing returns that look rich on paper but leave us feeling poor in life.
Let’s not wait for the calendar to slow down.
Choose today to make the investments that truly count; building meaningful connections with those we love.
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