OFFICE HOURS WITH STEPH JAGGER
OFFICE HOURS on FB LIVE with guest Steph Jagger! Join us in a conversation about Goal Setting 101: “what" and “where" are good, but they’re nothing without “why” - dive into a conversation with Steph Jagger and learn how she's flipped the script on traditional goal setting.
Because “what" and “where" are good, but they’re nothing without “why”. As a society, we’re pretty good at declaring and delivering (AKA pointing at the place we want to go and making a plan to get there). So why is it when we arrive at said place we’re left wanting more? Why is it never enough? Answer these questions and more with Steph and her counterintuitive approach to goals.
“Declaring and delivering are nothing without first discovering.”
Be prepared for vulnerability and big ah-has, as well as walking away knowing what you want, and (the missing ingredient), why it is you want it.
Steph has graciously offered our community to join her on her GREAT BIG JOURNEY Coaching program with a special 15% Discount, actually 30% since it is still the early bird special! promo code: SHEVENTURES
Steph Jagger is a force of nature. She believes, rather foolhardily, in the following mantra: Know Thyself, Choose Thyself, Make Shit Happen.
She is an author, speaker, coach, and world record smasher who lives on Bainbridge Island (otherwise known as Jurassic). She holds a CEC (certified Executive Coach) degree from Royal Roads University and she believes purposeful living doesn’t happen with one toe dangling in, but that we jump in, fully submerge, and sit in the juice. Think pickle, not cucumber.
In 2010 she began a journey that found her walking that exact talk, or perhaps a better way of putting it would be “skiing that exact talk.” From July of that year to May of 2011 Steph chased winter around the globe. She wound up breaking the record for the most vertical feet skied in a year. Post-journey Steph penned a memoir, which was released by Harper Collins in 2017 – the book is called Unbound: A Story of Snow and Self-Discovery.
She now runs a program called The Great Big Journey and partners with brands like REI to create a bridge from adventurous doing to adventurous being, thinking, and feeling.
Connect with Steph:
Reprinted from UNBOUND by Steph Jagger. By permission of Harper Wave an imprint of HarperCollins.
One Friday in February of 2009, the scene was no different.
I escaped up to Whistler and lingered outside as the bus pulled
away. A small amount of boredom had crept into my life of late.
I was content, happy with everything I had and everything I’d
done, but it still wasn’t enough. My life had begun to feel like a
collection of kindling, and I wanted big blocks of wood, and giant
sparks to go with them.
My entire life to date had been spent doing one thing and one thing only—chasing after goals in dogged pursuit of accomplish-
ment. At twenty-five, after years of darting from one goal to the next in a blur of box-ticking and brisk achievement, I’d already checked off many of the biggest boxes: I’d sailed through multiple academic requirements, and my passport was covered in stamps. I’d run in multiple marathons and a handful of triathlons. I had a good job in sales and marketing, I’d bought a big-city condo with
money of my own, filled it with all the right things, and with the cash left over, I’d made my first investments. My life was a laser-focused blaze of efficiency and execution designed around being able to answer the question “What’s next?”—one that I spat out on a regular occasion and worked hard to answer with in-your-face boldness. It was a truly obsessive quest.
That night, I couldn’t shake a niggling sense of dissatisfaction,
the idea that I was missing something, that what was next was
something more, bigger, better, and different from what I had
now. I tilted my head to the sky. A rush of air moved across my
face, and goose bumps rose up on my skin. I felt huge flakes of
snow land on my cheeks and eyelashes, and watched as thousands
of lace doilies fell from the sky. The stars were in hiding, and my
predictions from earlier that afternoon had been right—the sheets
of rain in Vancouver had traveled north and turned into snow. A
lot of it.
Thick confetti slammed into the mountains all night long, and
when I woke up the next morning, I could barely believe my eyes.
Everything in sight was covered in a deep, downy layer of snow,
and in a rare trifecta of perfection, especially for Whistler, it was
also sunny and bone-bitingly cold. I drank my coffee, made a plan
to meet a few friends, and watched as tiny snow crystals floated
through the air like fairy dust. I knew we were in for an epic day
With blue skies cracking open above us and a knee-deep carpet
of snow under our skis, we opted for the Whistler side of the resort.
More specifically, we hit up an area of the mountain dominated by
two fast-moving chairlifts, Symphony and Harmony. From the lift
we could see three massive bowls of untouched powder beneath
us, each filled to the brim.
All morning, and well into the afternoon, we skied those bowls
until we hit their gutters, arriving at the bottom of each run com-
pletely and utterly spent. Once there, we loaded back onto the
lifts and did it again. We skied hard all day long—harder than
hard. My legs were throbbing, lactic acid spread from my quads to
my calves, and then finally down into my feet and my tiny little
toes. It was a euphoric mix—I was fully awake but completely ex-
hausted. I wanted the feeling to last.
Each chairlift ride was a blessing, ten minutes of badly needed
rest and recovery. I collapsed onto one of them in the late after-
noon and leaned back. My feet dangled below me, and my head
came to a rest on the back of the chair. I looked up into the sky and
inhaled deeply, releasing the air as my cheeks turned up in a smile.
And then, right there, perhaps because of all that fairy dust, I
was struck with a grand idea, a bolt straight out of the shining blue
sky. It was the answer to “What’s next?” and the perfect box for
me to strike a giant check through. Or perhaps, more accurately, it
was exactly what was needed to fan all the flames.
I immediately announced my idea.
“I’m gonna do this,” I said with confidence. “I’m going to quit my
job and ski around the world.” I felt a shiver move up my right arm.