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The Silvercore Podcast explores the mindset and skills that build capable people. Host Travis Bader speaks with hunters, adventurers, soldiers, athletes, craftsmen, and founders about competence, integrity, and the pursuit of mastery, in the wild and in daily life. Hit follow and step into conversations that sharpen your edge.
This episode's a little bit different.
It's a project that matters to me,
and I hope you find value in it.
Over the years, I've sat across from
a lot of people on this podcast,
people with experience, scars, wins,
failures, and the depth that comes
from actually living their life
rather than simply talking about it.
As this year comes to a close, I reached
out to a small group of past guests and
friends who've made a real impression
on me and on this show, I asked them one
question, when everything else fades,
what do you want to be remembered for?
That might sound simple,
trust me, it's not.
I intentionally left this
question open-ended so people
could answer as they saw fit.
The question is designed to cut
past achievement, past reputation,
past social media, and I hope it
lands somewhere raw and honest.
What you're about to hear are their
answers in their own words, uninterrupted.
This episode is chaptered.
You can listen straight through
or you can jump to the voices
that resonate with you the most.
There is no right or wrong way to
listen to this, and as you hear
their answers, my hope is that you
ask yourself the same question.
Don't rush through it.
Don't judge yourself.
Just simply notice what comes up,
because whether we articulate it or
not, we're already living an answer.
We're first going to hear from Kyle Lamb.
Most people know Kyle as a former
Delta force soldier who fought in
the Battle of Mogadishu, which was
portrayed in the movie Black Hawk Down
or through his company, Viking Tactics.
Kyle's as real as they come.
He's got the rare ability to cut through
the BS and say exactly what needs to
be said plainly and without posturing.
After we finished recording his episode,
we spent some time talking without the
pressure, the microphones or an audience.
And in that space, I saw a deeply
human side of Kyle, and he shared
insights and observations that
I still carry with me today.
For that, I'm genuinely grateful.
So Travis reached out to me and he had
this simple question that he wanted
to ask me, and he said, just send me a
video about this pretty simple question.
When everything else fades, what
do you want to be remembered for?
And how did you come to see it that way?
Wow, what a, what a softball question.
It's almost as simple as, what's your
favorite color, which mine is black,
or what's your favorite ice cream?
Of course, mint chocolate chip.
Favorite football team.
Don't watch football.
But this question really, really
got under my skin and, and, and made
me start to, to reflect and think.
And he also, you know, asking,
how did I get to this conclusion?
Um, I've traveled the world doing
some exotic things, being in the
military and, and serving our country.
And I think that's helped me with my
perspective to answer this question.
I promise you it's not anything about
how many clicks on social media.
It's not how famous, how much
money you have in the bank.
It has nothing to do with that.
I think for me, when everything fades,
that sounds kind of sad to me when
you say everything fades, but I think
about how I'm gonna be perceived by my
grandkids, which is super important.
My kids almost equally as important.
And of course the most
important for me is my wife.
As I've gotten older, all of those
have become more important to me.
Now, maybe that sounds terrible
to say that, but I've been married
now for 39 years, and I can tell
you I love my wife more now than
I did when we first got married.
My kids have gotten older and
I'm able to have conversations
with them that I'd never thought
I would have with my children.
And then the grandkids, they just
keep getting better with age.
One of my buddies told me one time,
he said, you know, I remember my
grandpa and he was not a very good guy.
He wasn't nice.
He was really mean.
And when he said that, I thought, I don't
ever want my grandkids to think back and
say, man, my grandpa, he wasn't very nice.
He was mean.
So how do we get around that?
Well, for me, I'm a Christian.
I pray about it and we all get uptight.
For me, I'm, I am in the public a lot and.
One of the things my wife and
I often discuss is, what if
the public saw me in private?
And that sounds crazy because
usually it's the other way around.
But for me, when I'm in public,
I, I have to put on a happy face.
I have to meet people and
I have to do that thing.
And when I come home, it's
time for me to, to decompress.
And sometimes I'm not real easy to
be around when I'm decompressing.
That's why I do a lot of hunting
and fishing, because I can get
out in the woods or on the river
and take that time to get my mind
back in the right head space.
And I think that that kind
of answers that question too.
When everything fades, it's gonna
be just you and your family.
It's gonna be your loved ones.
It's not gonna be a bunch of glitter and
flashing lights and, you know, accolades.
Oh yeah, I was in the Army.
Well, big deal.
That's a, that's a life a long time ago.
That's the first part of my life.
What am I gonna do with the
second and third part of my life?
The other thing that happened, and
this kind of hit me too on Travis's
podcast, when I went on his podcast,
I talked about my brother-in-law
that was given six months to live.
And I told my wife, I said, what
would you do if he had, you were
told you had six months to live.
And she said, I'm doing it right now.
And that struck me because at that point
I wasn't doing what I would want to do.
If I had six months to live,
I'll happily report now.
I am doing that.
So perspective is, perspective is key.
And I'm 57 years old.
It's taken me a while to figure this out.
But hopefully some of you young men
and women out there, when you see this,
maybe you can get to the the finish line
to be squared away sooner than I did.
And I still got a lot of work.
There's a lot of things that I'm
trying to improve in my life, but
I wanna make sure that I take care
of my grandkids, my kids, and my.
I have a lot of friends too, and
I, and they mean a lot to me.
But when it really, really
comes down to it, your family
is gonna be there till the end.
I hope.
I hope and pray that, that they'll be
there till the end with me and with you.
So that's all I got, Travis.
Not much, uh, maybe not too insightful
there, but for me, I, I pray about it
and try to get the guidance from the,
from the man and, uh, drive on for there.
It's not easy.
It's, it's good I think to have a mission.
And that's probably another thing
I guess I should throw in here.
I see a lot of veterans, they struggle.
They, they don't have a mission
when they get retired or they
get medically discharged from the
military, whatever it might be.
That's one of the other things that
I do, is I try to stay focused on a
mission, whether it's writing a book,
doing a video for Travis, uh, teaching
a class, going hunting or fishing,
treat everything like a mission.
So they have some kind of focus there.
That's also how I've
applied this to my family.
It's a mission and I have got
to be there for my grandkids.
They, my, my grandkids adore me
when I'm a good dude and they don't
adore me when I'm not a good dude.
And they speak very openly
with me about how I'm acting.
And it's been a great, it's just
been a great experience to take my
grandson shooting, hang out with my
granddaughter 'cause they're so honest
and, uh, they've got me back on track.
So hopefully I'll stay on track.
I appreciate all you guys
listening out there, Travis.
Thanks for playing.
Stump the jump there and uh,
it's almost Christmas time.
God
bless all of you.
Next we've got Amy Madams.
To say that Amy is one of a kind,
is a hell of an understatement.
She's one of those people who
surprises you because underneath
that effortlessly funny persona is
a sharp, deeply intelligent mind.
She's brave in her willingness to speak
honestly, even when it's uncomfortable.
What I appreciate most about Amy is
that she doesn't perform courage.
She lives it.
She asks good questions, she
challenges assumptions, and she
does it with warmth and humility.
Check one, two, Travis.
Check one, two.
So just wipe my, not we just, hello?
Yeah.
How are you?
That's, are you fly fishing?
I am.
Yeah.
Who, what?
What can we do to catch here?
Any course fish at the minute,
'cause trout's outta season.
So like chub there?
There, there's no trout here, right?
There's trout.
Not in this section.
They're like few and far between.
Further up.
But do you fly fish?
No.
No, not really.
No.
I've got a, I've got a question for you.
Yeah.
Do you mind if I film you quickly?
Sorry.
Do you mind if I film you quickly?
I've got a question
who thought this was gonna happen?
So I've been asked yet, when everything
fades in the world, what do you
wanna be remembered for in your life?
Sorry, I can't hear you.
When everything's gone and you are dead,
what do you wanna be remembered for?
Oh no, that's fine.
Well, I've only got three minutes, so
I dunno.
I hope people gonna remember
me as a good person, I guess.
And what's your name?
Hubert.
Hubert.
He's a good person or was a good person?
Well, he is still a good person
'cause he's still here on this bridge.
But for how long?
Who knows?
'cause I day's a number.
Have a good one.
Thanks Hubert.
Cheers.
So when everything does fade, eventually,
um, me personally, I won't be remembered
for anything and neither will you.
Ultimately, no one's
gonna remember Hubert.
What's his name?
Howard.
See, I've already forgot.
But what he said was poignant kindness.
You can choose to be trauma time,
or you can choose to be a kind
person, and those choices will
continue on like a ripple effect.
Choose to be kind,
tight lines.
Next we have Colin Doer.
Colin was horrifically mauled
by a grizzly bear, and he fought
it off with his pocket knife.
Then he uses one good leg to pedal his
bike for miles back to a logging camp
where he helped carry out his own rescue.
That episode was recorded in Colin's
home, and it was the first time that
story had been shared on a podcast.
It was a difficult conversation, for sure.
A great deal of that conversation was
left on the cutting room floor because
revisiting that experience required an
immense amount of courage from Colin.
At one point, I told Colin we didn't
have to record it, that we could
simply go for coffee instead, but he
chose to continue because he believed
others could benefit from what he had
learned and what he'd lived through.
Colin's not a big man standing beside him.
I look like a Sasquatch, but his
heart and his courage are massive.
Travis answer to your question.
When everything fades, how
do you wanna be remembered?
How did I come to that conclusion?
Well, when everything fades, and
I'm not here anymore, I'm not
concerned about being remembered.
Um, but I did decide a long time
ago, probably in my twenties,
uh, that what I wanted to do was,
uh, leave a positive footprint,
uh, on Earth during my time here.
Uh, essentially be good to your neighbors
and try to create a positive, uh,
community and a positive atmosphere.
Um, because sometimes the world seems
troubled, uh, but there's a lot of
good people, and I wanna be one of 'em
Also, when my time comes
to die, I want to die.
Well.
I wanna die with dignity and with
myself, my family and friends
at peace with the situation.
I believe this for a long time,
uh, probably inspired in part by my
grandmother, uh, who had a case of cancer.
And after seeing her husband, uh, fight
it and die, uh, she, uh, chose after a
couple of treatments, uh, to just accept
her fate and let the cancer take her.
Uh, it was a long process, you
know, about a year or more.
Uh, but it gave family time and to
accept the, the terms and, uh, deal
with the situation and brought us
together and thought it was really
bold and noble thing that she did.
Uh, and, uh, having survived the bear
mauling, I think it's only reinforced.
Um, I believe in that,
uh, it's okay to go.
And we don't get to pick our time.
Um, but within reason, uh, we can
pick the means that we choose,
uh, to navigate the situation.
I first met April Vokey on a set
of Aate Eater podcast recording.
There's a small group of us and
well, some people are excited
to talk with Steve or Giannis.
I found myself more interested in
hearing from this woman who grew
up in my hometown of Sury bc.
April's passion for the
outdoors is palpable.
It's matched by a level of
professionalism that you don't often
see, especially in a space that
can reward flash over substance.
Her podcast anchored is one of the top
outdoor and fishing podcasts in the world.
Through Anchored Outdoors, she's built
a strong community, inspired more people
to step into the world of fishing than
all, most anybody that I can think of.
Travis Bader coming in hot
with the insightful questions.
This one being, when all else
spades at the end of the day, what
would I like to be remembered for?
My answer to that has
changed a lot over the years.
There was a time when I really
would've wanted to have been remembered
as being maybe one of the greats,
uh, or one of the most passionate.
Now my answer is I think I know my
answer is I would like to be remembered
as somebody who tried her best, unap
and unapologetically tried her best.
Somebody who figured out along the
way that I was going to make mistakes
and was never gonna make everybody
happy, but I was doing something
that I love and fully believe in.
And how did I come to figure this out?
Uh, getting.
Beat up along the way enough, I think,
and, and learning the hard way that, um,
I really could only make one person happy
in all of this, and that was myself.
And if I was fortunate enough to build
a community or have anybody else around
me find some enjoyment in some of
the projects I delivered, or the, um,
businesses that I built, that, that
would really be the ultimate dream.
And so, yeah, that's my answer.
It's a long-winded, dis winded way of
saying, I just wanna be remembered as
somebody who tried her hardest and really
dedicated herself to this sport of fly
fishing that I, I, I firmly wanna stand
on that and provided a voice to people
who maybe otherwise didn't necessarily
have a voice at a time when the internet
and social media was becoming widespread.
I, I would like to, I would like to.
To be seen as somebody who really went
out of her way to share the spotlight,
if you will, on people who are far more
talented than I am, uh, with people
who are just as passionate as I am.
So I hope that that answers your question.
I first met Jason Budd when as a
youth at the Vernon Army Cadet Camp.
Jason went on to serve
with the British Army.
And over the years, we've recorded
episodes that explored his highs and
his lows, his special forces selection
process, and his life in the mountains.
Jason is the person who introduced me
to the world of mountaineering today.
He's an I-F-M-G-A mountain Guide.
That's a qualification that
represents years of rigorous
training and real world experience.
It's a professional standard held by a
very small number of guides worldwide.
He lives his passion daily and
he shares it through his company,
countless Mountain Guides, helping
others experience the mountains with
humility, competence, and respect.
Alright, Trav and Corp family.
Interesting question you posed.
Travis had me pondering for some time.
It's getting busy, so I thought I'd
go for a walk in the mountains, bring
my camera long and think about it.
But yeah, answer to your question,
how do I want to be remembered?
I think when everything else
fades, I wanna be remembered
as the guy that showed up
over 15 years in military service.
15 years of service in Vancouver,
fire and rescue, numerous years
in Squamish Search and Rescue.
Those experiences in years shaped
and formed how I view things now.
Ultimately, I'm down in service of others.
Serving didn't just become a job
for me, it became a way of life.
These days, I'm hanging out
in the mountains guiding.
It's a different world,
but the core principles remain the same.
Looking out for folk leading well
and helping people through challenges
that can even be a bit risky at times.
And ultimately, that's
what it come down to,
service of others.
It's a thread that runs deep in me,
and when it's all said and done.
And we're pushing daisies.
I think that's what I want to
be remembered the most for.
Hope that's answered your question,
Traub, and I look forward to
catching up with you soon.
Well, the best TRA and Civil Corps family,
Vos first episode on the Silver
Core Podcast marked an inflection
point for the direction of the show.
Something fundamentally shifted in
me in how I understood my role as a
podcaster and what the show could become.
Seb is a true leader, not because of
what he demands from others, but because
of how he lifts people up through his
example and the size of his heart.
He is the embodiment of a warrior
philosopher, a man grounded in
faith, guided by principle, and
willing to shoulder responsibility
quietly rather than seek recognition.
Alright, take number 976.
The question that Travis posed is a very
challenging one and is one that I've
struggled with for many, many years.
It, it sort of ties into this, this
concept of legacy in the human term
or in the earthly term and the concept
of legacy itself is a, is a pretty
flawed concept in my, in my opinion.
I think it's mostly rooted in pride
and ego, which we're all prone to, that
includes me, but I think it's a far
cry between realizing that we're prone
to it and keep it, keep it in check,
and really reassert what it is that's
important for us when it comes to be
remembered.
So
both from a
philosophical and spiritual
standpoint, I think there's much
to be desired when it comes to
introspecting deeply on what it is that
we wanna be remembered for or if, if
there's even value in being remembered for
anything from dust to dust, so to speak.
I know for me it's definitely morphed
over the years how I got there.
I'm not exactly sure.
Am I there?
That's another question
I'm not exactly sure about.
Is there even a there, I wanna take
it, um, a bit deeper, but for me,
I think when it comes to legacy, I
see legacy as a collective endeavor.
What have I done to contribute positively?
To the spiritual or to the spirit of
humanity, if that makes any sense.
What have I done that necessarily
doesn't, doesn't need to be assigned to
me, but is leaving its indelible mark
on people that are in turn leaving
their indelible mark on others.
What are some of the the positive
things that I contributed to the
greater good without necessarily
those things being known or to have
been attributed to me specifically?
And am I okay leaving this place
knowing that I've done the best I could
to contribute to the collective fabric?
If the answer is yes, then from dust.
For my name to be remembered in
itself or for my picture to be
posted somewhere or for, for me,
having some sort of meaningful
physical trace of my being in this
challenging earthly journey
is pretty irrelevant.
I have no personal inclined
to have that habit.
Weirdly,
I have no need to take a sharp, a
sharp blade and carve my name on a
tree as I see it more as injuring
the tree, as being more important.
Prioritizing that over me, carving my name
for others to know and see and remember.
So I guess I'd be somewhat disingenuous
in saying that I don't want to be
remembered fondly by those that I
love and those who love me, my close
ones, my kids, my extended family,
my friends for as long as they live.
It would be nice for them to remember
me as a person that was kind, a person
that was loving, the person that made
a ton of mistakes or was introspective
enough to learn from them and try to
elevate spiritually during its
time in this, in this planet.
And I don't mean elevate above other,
I mean elevate in relation to who
they once were because what's the
point of that journey if it isn't
for a, some sort of elevation?
I believe this place is a refinement.
Spiritually speaking.
And I think that failing to do that
is, um, is, is a failed proposition.
Of course, part part of it is altruistic
and wanting to do it for others, and
part of it is self-serving in that it
gives you life purpose, which helps
in negotiating this, this earl of Lee
and challenging journey called life.
So I guess in the end, I would
love those that love me to
remember me in a positive light.
And,
and if, if such is the case, then
I surmise that they will contribute
to other people's journey in a
positive light as well, because
people that receive love generally,
I. Are the ones proliferating it.
And so
if this is all the fabric of
humanity ever remembers of me,
I suppose I will have accomplished
part of my earthly mission.
At least that's the way I see it,
how I got here.
By being introspective in all realms
of my human experience, of all realms
of my earthly journey, all of them
physically, mentally, spiritually,
be introspective.
And, and also all of this is anchored in
the outmost sense of gratitude for having
had the opportunity to even be here for
the air in my lungs, for all the little
things from being in the farm today,
filming this video and baking in the sun.
I don't remember once taking,
taking things of, of this world
for granted and all of all the
things that I did take for granted.
I eventually
paid the price for it,
but all of this was part of the refinement
process and it led me to this, answering
this question in the way that I am today.
All of the mistakes, all of the
introspection, all of the refinement,
all of the failing over and over
again, and now try to do it better,
hurting some people along the
way, hurting myself along the way,
herling the fabric of humanity,
and also healing it as it were.
That's how I got here, I think.
Next we hear from Kevin Cosan,
creator of the hit Show from the wild.
Kevin is exceptionally thoughtful.
He's someone who takes the time to
talk things through, whether it's
helping me think about the best
places in Alberta to live based on
my interests or simply asking better
questions than most people do.
What Kevin shares
through his work is rare.
He presents food and hunting in a way that
is artistic, honest, and deeply human.
There is care behind it.
And you feel that when you watch his work?
It's a weighty question there, Travis.
Um,
how would I want to be remembered?
Um, what do I want to be remembered for?
Um, I guess the, there's no, there's
no other answer for me other than
the contributions I've made, the
dent I made in the food culture, uh,
of the nation I live in and value,
um, and the world, I guess, um,
that that's mattered
to me for a long time.
And.
And then it started to occur, um,
and it, it became obvious that, uh,
what seemed like a pipe dream of
actually making a difference in, in
a space, uh, was actually feasible.
And then I learned that I was l
embodying that life that, um, that
could help others, uh, I guess, gain
some of the insights, uh, as to what
that gives you other than, you know,
calories or a, a rack on the wall
or a fun trip with your buddies.
Um, the outdoors, I've witnessed
it, uh, hosting, guiding people and
it being transformative for them.
One thing that has recurred a few times,
um, especially with women, is, uh.
Being shown around the world, around the
nature space and coming to understand
that everything that you need is there,
uh, from your shelter to what keeps
you warm, to what keeps you fed, to
the cocktails you're gonna drink that
night, to your tea, to your, you know,
whatever, any, anything really that
you need, uh, exists in that space.
And I've seen it give people deep senses
of surety, uh, of operating in a world
that can otherwise feel very manufactured
or that it's hard to find place, or
that you're dependent on others for
everything from your income to your heat.
And, you know, that warms you
to the calories in your body.
Like you're, you're kind of, um,
kind of can see where it would
rattle and unsettle people.
And I've found since I was a young
adult, I really, I. Uh, gravitated
towards the ability to be independent.
And it wasn't 'cause I was in the prepper
or survivalist kind of zone at all.
It was mostly just the, the wanting
to be, uh, capable and, um, a
capable human in this planet.
And I found that, um,
that all the lessons I needed to
learn really were out in the bush
or out on the ocean, or out in the
field in the grasslands or somewhere.
Uh, and, and that slowly piece by piece
you, I've accumulated a, a very vast, uh,
body of work of, at this point, 12 seasons
of a show that document that journey.
I don't really care at all if someone
remembers me for a recipe, that
to me would be dialing it down to
the most base of, of its purpose.
The real point is trying to
inspire people to slow down.
To be present, uh, to be aware, to know,
to, uh, want to know that if there's
something that you were, uh, unaware
of or don't have a skill that you then
that's on your to-do list and get to it.
Uh, and to, and to maybe be a, an
example of somebody who prioritized
that over a lot of other things
that people, uh, tend to value
that I just don't quite understand.
Um, the older I get, the less I understand
pop culture in general, but 'cause I'm
just too busy over in my lane, uh, uh,
focused on uh, natural world stuff.
But, um, I hope that, that, that, uh,
inspiring people to, um, to get outside
and relate to nature differently is, is
the outcome of that work and of my life
work, which I guess is kind of my life.
How did I come to, uh, see it that way?
Only after a very long
integrative period of time.
I've worked with a lot of people in
the field now, and I've had a lot of
feedback on how it impacts people.
Uh, and it took a lot of time to
realize that we weren't just out
there goofing around and having fun
and eating plants and hunting deer.
Um, that it, it, we were, we
were changing lives, uh, which
sounds really, I don't know,
self gratuitous or whatever,
but it's, it's not that.
It's like you're changing the lives
of the people who, who are becoming
self-sufficient, independent, um,
feeling like they have a place.
Uh, and there's a lot of those people
I thought I was like the one weirdo
that was just like to play outside
of his kid and, and needed to.
Feel like I could, I could be there, you
know, like I, I, I belonged as a person
or as a human, or as a man in that, in
that environment, um, in the outdoors.
And, uh, it felt like something
that would be like this achievement
to get to the, that point.
But I learned that there's a lot
more to it than just knowing how to
operate a chainsaw or shoot a gun.
Um, there's, there's knowing how
to determine ripeness of fruit,
knowing what plants are toxic.
There's knowing that almost the entire
ecosystem is edible and, and which shrubs
you'd want to eat when and which ones
you'd want to use to smoke your fish.
Um, it's knowing the seasonality
and when to walk out and expect to
find certain things and when to not
expect us to find certain things.
And, and the big one is, um, for me, I.
Uh, the ability to step into anywhere.
Now, I guide blind a lot now, meaning I go
into places that I've never been before in
North America and, um, and even recently
in Europe and have to noodle my way
around an ecosystem and piece it apart.
And that took a long
time to learn how to do.
But o once you're able to do that,
to walk into the, uh, natural world
and understand, okay, so there's my
nuts and there's my fruit, and there's
the stuff that'll go into my dessert.
And that's the stuff that if
someone is needs pain medication,
that's they're gonna use.
Um, and I'll build with
that and I won't with that.
And I know why, and I know how to,
uh, once you get into that zone,
you just feel, it's just a, you
just feel differently as far as
how you operate on this planet.
And, uh, that was, that took time.
That was not something I was seeking.
It was an outcome, an unanticipated
outcome of my body of work and
my way of my operating system,
which is very seasonal flow.
My entire year flows around seasonality of
the natural world, which is super weird.
And that was, again, never by design,
but it's just how my life works now.
Um, yeah.
So it was a slow transition.
We did have one critical moment,
uh, a number of years ago,
a lot of years ago actually.
We were on an elk hunt and
we were failing finding elk.
We were up around Grand Prairie
in Alberta and just couldn't try,
couldn't hear elk, couldn't find track,
couldn't do anything, just failing
and feeling pretty bad about it.
Uh, for ourselves.
And, uh, came upon, we just stopped the
vehicle and was gonna, we're gonna turn
around and go somewhere else and came
upon a huge patch of like white on a
hill and it was mushrooms and I'd, I knew
enough mushrooms that the one, it happened
to be the one I grew up picking, which
was Shaggy mains or Rinus, come ATIs.
And, um, we thought, ah,
we don't need mushrooms.
We're after elk.
You know, that's what real hunters do.
And then decided, you know what,
let's just take a time and, and
pick some mushrooms right now.
And we had a moment on that hill of
like, interesting, we're picking,
we were gonna say no to 30 or
40 pounds of fresh mushrooms.
Um, just because we were looking
for something else instead of
being aware and open-minded about
what's present in the ecosystem.
And we learned to coin the term
like, like on offer by nature instead
of being present to what's open.
What's on offer by nature.
We were, we were just obsessive
about a singular thing.
That moment we kind of broke and
said, screw it, screw elk hunting.
If we see an elk, fine.
And we went home with like two or
three white-tailed deer and a black
bear and a bunch of gross, and a
bunch of mushrooms and a bunch of
fruit and realized, holy crap, we've
been, we've been doing this wrong.
We've been hunting a thing.
Instead of entering an ecosystem at a
whatever time of year and and embracing
whatever happens to be there, you're
there to just look around and be present
and be open to different outcomes.
And, uh, and it, that
required a lot of us.
'cause we had to know what they were
and how to pick them and how to cook
them and how to put them into drinks.
So anyway, I guess that kind of conversion
from how to go hunt or fish or pick a
thing to, how to enter an ecosystem and
just flow with it as a. Piece of it, um,
is what I hope people take away from my
career and which is my life work somehow
ended up with a life that, um, is highly
attuned, heavily geared into my life work.
So, um, that, that is what I
hope I'd be remembered for.
And, uh, that's, that's a loose
handle on how I arrived at it.
Kelsey Sheeran is a reminder not
to judge a book by its cover.
If you only know Kelsey through
social media, you might expect
a firecracker in person.
She's measured thoughtful and
grounded in a way that surprised me.
When I first met Kelsey, I
didn't know what to expect.
What I found was someone who brings care
and integrity into hard conversations.
I've been asked many times to speak
about certain events in my life, on
other podcasts, things I've never
spoken about on the Silver Corp
podcast, and I've always declined.
That changed with Kelsey.
We recorded an episode for her podcast.
It was difficult for me to do,
but the fact that I trust her
made it easier, and I believe
the conversation can help others.
Thank you, Kelsey.
So Travis asked when everything else
fades, what do I wanna be remembered for?
And how did I come to see it that way?
Well, when everything else fades,
I wanna be remembered for somebody
who told the truth, uh, especially
when it's been inconvenient and
incredibly costly and very lonely.
And as somebody who didn't abandon
people, and I don't abandon
people in their darkest moments,
I refuse to abandon myself either.
Uh, this doesn't come from
confidence, and it simply just
comes from fracture meaning.
I've gone through hell and back, and
that is not emotive or facetious.
That is literally the subtitle
of my book for a reason.
I grew up inside a system that and
just like many of us did, that has
rewarded nothing other than silence,
and it really just punishes honesty.
And when I think about strength being
measured and how much I want to be
remembered for things, I want to be
remembered because I decided to endure
it all instead of just staying silent.
When loyalty often means compliance.
I want the pain of the things
I've been through and what I've
been carrying to actually mean
something and move something forward.
And for a long time, I played the role.
I learned how to push through,
how to perform competency.
I learned how to be useful, reliable,
and quite quiet and invincible, believe
it or not, a lot of the times, and
from the outside, it looked just simply
like strength, but inside something
was eroding and this is what happened.
When injuries change you and trauma
changes you, loss simply will
change you in a way that is frankly
one of the hardest things
I'll ever go through.
And many of us have gone
through loss and trauma.
If you're listening to his incredible
show, you will know that he doesn't
interview people who have fluffy stories.
He interviews people who
have gone through things.
I've watched what happens when
people are broken and then asked
to pretend that they're not.
And when they're medicated or minimalized
or managed, instead of being listened to.
I even received recently my medical
records and saw what my, some of
my staff actually thought of me.
And it was heartbreaking.
I've watched people lose their sense
of self long before they chose to end
their lives, and I felt myself heading
in that direction for a really long time.
And what really cracked me open
and changed me wasn't one moment.
It was the slow accumulation of change,
being told not to ask certain questions,
being encouraged to move on before
anything had been metabolized, and being
praised for being resilient while I was
actually struggling and dying inside.
And at some point I realized that
survival wasn't the same thing as living.
I don't know the moment, but I would
say it was right around 20 19, 20 20.
And my silence, uh, was not at all.
Wanted or needed.
It was something that I felt like I
was inside my body and I was frankly
screaming, but I just couldn't get loud.
So I started telling the truth, not
the, you know, truth, everyone wanted
to hear, but the reckless truth.
Truth, not just saying it, but
being loud about it and being clear.
I started naming things that
made rooms uncomfortable.
I started choosing accuracy over approval,
and I started walking away from places
and people that required me to lie about
what I was experiencing in order to stay.
It cost me my friendships, my
relationships, my certainty, and my
belonging, but it gave me something
back that I haven't had in a long time.
And that is myself.
And over time, my definition
of strength and resilience has
changed because strength is.
Something that I was willing to feel
without collapsing and to speak without
needing to be dominant, but just
to speak at all and to stay present
when it would be easier to just numb
myself, outsource my responsibility,
and disappear behind some role.
And if I am remembered for anything
in this life, I hope it's that I
didn't abandon truth for comfort.
I didn't exploit someone's pain, mine or
anybody else's for status or sympathy.
It's that I made it safer for people to be
honest about what they were carrying, even
if it didn't fit the approval narrative
that was going around at the time.
This question really made me think
about what I wanna be remembered for
outside of the titles that we give
ourselves in life, whether it's our work.
And I learned something recently
about what the Japanese do.
They don't ask you what they do.
They ask you why you wake up.
So I wanna be remembered as
somebody who was present and
there who asks the hard questions.
And not because I wanted to provoke
uncomfortable conversations, but because
I refuse to accept the shallow answers
to the deeper suffering of our world.
I wanna be remembered as somebody who
believed that healing wasn't about
erasing my past, but integrating it
as somebody who understood the meaning
isn't found by bypassing and going
around the darkness, but walking
through it and sitting with it, talking
with it, and making friends with it.
My eyes painfully wide open.
I don't wanna be remembered as
somebody who was impressive or
agreeable or easy to be around.
Somebody that knew it all
or could fix everything.
I just wanna be remembered as somebody
that was painfully, uncomfortably real.
I wanna be remembered as somebody
who stood for real dignity of the
individuals of these institutions that
keep failing us as somebody who's chose
presence over some stage performance.
And as somebody who didn't
and refused to look away.
Because when everything else fades,
whether it's the noise, the rules, the
titles, the arguments, or all of the
things we choose to do on a daily basis,
what remains as whether I lived in
alignment with what I truly knew to be
true, not authentic, but real alignment.
And I really do hope and intend to be
remembered as somebody who did just that.
So thank you to Silver Core and
Travis for always in my darkest
days and my hardest days for giving
me a platform to tell my story, to
making me feel heard and remembered.
And I really do hope one day when
I'm no longer here, that when people
look back, because this stuff never,
never seems to be erased, I can be
remembered for somebody who was honest,
even if it made you uncomfortable.
Thanks, Travis.
Next we hear from Sean Taylor.
Sean is a former jtf, two special
forces, tier one operator, and a 24
hour solo mountain bike world champion.
He was sitting across from
me at his kitchen table.
I had the light set up, the
camera's rolling, the audio live,
and I remember feeling nervous.
Who did?
I think I was sitting there with all
this gear and calling myself a podcaster.
It's taken me years to become
comfortable with that term.
Later, Sean told me that
he felt the exact same way.
In that moment, he was carrying
his own sense of imposter syndrome.
That realization has stayed with me.
Sean is incredibly humble.
Like a number of guests on the Silver
Corp podcast, he's dedicated his life to
helping others become the best versions of
themselves without seeking the spotlight.
After we finished recording, we found
ourselves deep in conversations about
whether we lived in a simulation or not.
And if that question grabs you,
I definitely recommend checking
out the collective podcast where
Sean shares more of his thinking.
Testing.
Testing.
1, 2, 3. Travis timestamp.
Good afternoon everyone.
I'm gonna read you a script that I
just put together for Travis based
on a question that he'd asked me
a couple of weeks ago, which was
when everything else fades, what
do you wanna be remembered for?
And how did you come to see it that way?
My apologies based on the
cafe background noise.
I have some time compression.
For the last couple of weeks, I've been
thinking about how to answer that in a
way that might actually land with people.
In simple terms, I want to be
remembered for one thing that I left
people more capable than I found them.
Not impressed by me, not
inspired for a moment.
Capable throughout the rest of their
life based on something I said or did.
That understanding didn't
arrive all at once.
It was formed over the long, long arc of
pressure beginning in tier one, special
operations in Canada's elite military.
Through a variety of organizations
responsibilities and moments that stripped
me down to a fundamental identity.
And through the long quiet nights where
I had to measure the distance between
who I was and who I said I would be.
Part of my path was learning to trust my
internal signal over the external script.
I've never lived the traditional
predictable trajectory assigned
to someone with my background.
I've shaped my life by listening
to what feels true, even when
the timing makes no sense.
By way of example, I'm currently
in Southeast Asia and I'm
much needed vacation with my
wife just a few days into it.
One of those rare moments hit.
Like a blazing comet across
the night sky of the mind.
One second.
The idea didn't exist the next.
It felt like a book that had already
been written on top of the book
that I'm already writing, waiting
for me to decide whether I would
honor it or not, and I had a choice.
Ignore it and stay comfortable or
act on it, knowing it would haunt me
for the rest of my life if I didn't.
So I chose to act.
Those comment moments don't show up often,
and when they do, there are invitations.
The book I'm writing now exists
because I answered that call.
A call we all get from time to time.
It's the result of my life experiences and
considerations, my family's influence, my
closest friends, people like Travis and
many others who have shared their wisdom.
It also comes out of some small
wins, often overshadowed by countless
failures and part of my shape.
Trajectory.
If I hadn't decided to go all in
on that comment moment, this book
would've slipped outta my life story
arc entirely and visibly, and that
would've been a loss because I genuinely
feel it will be helpful for others.
Somewhere along the path, I realize
something bigger than my smaller wants.
Maybe this journey called life isn't
really about our immediate desires at
all, or the predictable safety of knowing
exactly what I'll be doing next year.
Maybe it's about contributing to the
collective journey, making things a
little better for those people around us.
Just as those before us
try to do in their own way.
I'm pretty sure I don't actually
need me to be remembered.
What I want remembered is the influence
of the people in my life carried
forward through my voice and my work.
In essence, I don't think life
should be about personal glory.
I think it should be about
generational continu.
So that's my answer, Travis.
Remember me for the capability I
left in others that I honored my
signals when they showed up and for
doing my part in a larger journey.
We all share.
All of us.
Do you?
I first met Chance Burs is one
of the founders of the podcast.
Since then, he shared his story on the
Silver Court podcast in episode 1 41.
That was a story about being blown
up, broken down, and rebuilt.
What really stands out to me about
Chance is not only what he's endured,
but how he shows up for others.
Whether we're hunting elk together
in the Alberta foothills or sitting
across from each other and navigating
a hard conversation, I always leave
feeling grounded, valued, and seen.
Chance has the rare ability to guide
people through difficult terrain,
physical or internal, and leave
them stronger on the other side.
So when everything else fades,
what do I wanna be remembered for?
I wanna be remembered as somebody
that did their best to make life
better, to make the world better,
to make this experience better.
And
where did that stem from?
Well, that's, that, that is a large
question that has shaped my entire journey
and my life kind of across the board.
So I'll give you some Kohl's notes.
Uh, from a young age, I wanted
to be in the military, but I more
so because I thought it was cool.
I thought it would be super fun, and it,
it was, but at the time I didn't know it.
Um, but I always wanted to help
other people, and it came from a bit
of a selfish perspective in that.
I wanted to assist the people around
me to be able to do the things that
they wanted to do so that they would
leave me alone so that I could do
the things that I wanted to do.
And so I believed that if I could regulate
the people around me, then they would
be happy enough and content enough that
they would leave me to my own devices.
And that kind of got me into the realm
of, uh, using other people as a proxy.
Uh, by helping them, I felt better about
myself and therefore I was doing well.
I didn't realize at the time that
that has a negative cycle to it.
And it eventually put me in
kind of a rough place that
I got out of after a while.
Um, so early on I started
like volunteering.
Uh, I used to do the children's festival.
I used to do the folk festival.
We, uh, I worked for my mother's
businesses at all kinds of, uh, music
festivals and things all over Alberta.
Um, eventually I, I was a salesman at a
video game store and I, I realized pretty
quickly that if I tried to sell somebody
something, they were always skeptic.
But if I just connected with them over a
love of video games and had a discussion
about the things that I love about certain
video games, I would sell way more stuff.
Um, similarly, when I was doing
the, the Children's festival and
things like that, the more I played
with the toys, the more people were
engaged into what we were doing.
And I found that my behaviors not
only could bring people in, it
could build people up, but it could.
Affect the course of their lives,
uh, especially when I was in the
military, because the military
is all about, um, group success,
collective success, mutual reliance.
Um, it, it's, well, way beyond just my
own individual effort is that if I really
strive to be the best soldier I can be,
I'm just adding to the whole, which is
great because the, the mission becomes
more important than the individual.
So it, it really taught me that
helping others is fundamentally
about working together.
So to lift all, to raise all
ships, you know what I mean?
Um, after leaving the military though.
This is where that negative cycle
kicked in, was that I didn't feel like
I had anybody to help and therefore
I had to seek out people to help.
And I became a veterans advocate,
and I worked with the Walk for
Veterans and did all these things.
Um, and it wasn't until deep into
that that I started to realize
that that was gonna be the cycle.
It was that I would always
be seeking someone else to
fill that gap in my own self.
And so I had to, uh, I had,
I had to take some time.
I, I had to separate from the walk.
I, uh, started the podcast.
I started trying to find other people that
had different solutions than what I had.
Uh, but through that, through the, the
podcasts and the, all the conversations
and all the things that I've done
now through teaching juujitsu and
learning juujitsu, of course, um,
I've come to understand that real.
Meaningful impact is made when we
generally gen, genuinely connect
and grow together as a, as a group.
One of the things that caught my own
head just recently, uh, while we were
training, we were talking about requiring
connection in order to move someone
else's weight, someone else's math.
And it clicked in my head that
really, that is the essence of helping
someone else is through connection.
Because if I can truly connect
to somebody, um, at a spiritual,
emotional, physical, psychological,
uh, root, whatever that root is, if
I can truly connect to them, then
I can move them.
I can actually help them
without physically moving them.
Um.
Uh, it's like the, there's an old
saying that, you know, you are the
amalgamation of your five most, the five
people you spend the most time with.
Well, that's because you're
connected to one another.
That's because you have
a really base connection.
So when they move, you move.
So when they start to take
off, you travel in their wake.
And if you want to, if you want to be,
be something, or if you wanna be somebody
else, or if you want to grow or develop
or something like that, the, the best
way to do it, I'm not gonna say the
fastest or the uh, or the strongest or
whatever, but the best way I've found
to do it is to connect with people who
are doing the thing that you're doing.
Because otherwise it's just
a crapshoot at that point.
I mean, ultimately,
legacy and memory and all these
things are pretty meaningless
because once I'm gone, I'm gone.
And
how other people remember me is not
up to me except through my actions.
So it has nothing to do with what I say.
It has nothing to do with what I think.
It has nothing to do with what I believe.
It has everything to do with what I do,
and in the end, it's about
making a positive difference
for myself and for everyone around me.
Not only do I want other people
to do better, I want to do better.
And so I will lead by example.
I will live the life that I wanna live,
and I will do the things that I want to
do and I will assist people along the way,
and that'll be my legacy.
That'll be my, um, that'll be piece
that I'm remembered by is just
a guy wanting to help and make
the world a little bit better.
Yeah.
That's all I got.
Lastly, we hear from Tiffany Bader.
Tiffany is my wife.
She's seen it.
All the good decisions, the bad ones,
the stress, the work, and what it
actually takes to build the life we have.
She is the strongest person I know.
So Travis has asked that I think
about what I want my legacy to be.
Now, I gave it some thought molded
around, and for me it's really simple.
It's, I wanna be a net positive, and
everything I do, every situation that I'm
in, I want there to be a net positive.
But most critically, and really
essentially, for me, the most
important place where I want this to
be evident is with my immediate family.
I want my kids to always know that their
mom's in their corner, that they have
my love and support, that I would fight
a bear, I would fight a bear for them.
Um, I don't know if I'd survive it, but
they'd have enough time to run away.
And, um, and as well as that, I, I
wanna be a good example for them.
I, I try to live my life without regret.
Um.
I try to,
I, I just, I wanna be a
good example for them.
I want them, when I'm gone, I want
my grandkids or my kids to say,
damn, remember that cool hunt?
Grandma went on in the same breath
as man, grandma made grape bread.
So for me, that's, it's pretty simple.
I, you know, I just, I've had the luxury
of having some challenges in my life that
made it abundantly clear without any doubt
in my mind what my priority is in life.
I could lose everything.
As long as I have my kids
and my husband, I'm good.
And I know that down to my core.
So that, that's fueled my, my life
and, uh, what I hope my legacy will be.
So here's to another almost 50 years.
Before I share my own answer,
I want to thank everyone who
took part in this project.
Took a lot of courage to sit with
that question and to answer it
honestly, and I appreciate each and
every one of you for doing just that.
Now it's my turn.
While Amy might be right, and our names
may not be remembered in the long run, in
the short term, I want to be remembered
as a husband and a father who, while not
perfect, was loving and always working to
make his family as strong as it could be.
That perspective came from hardship,
from having things taken from
me by people who wish me ill.
And from choosing to rebuild instead of
carrying that bitterness forward, that
rebuilding demand, its stubbornness,
the kind that keeps you moving when
quitting would be just so much easier.
The kind that commits to getting
a little bit better day by day.
And when my name is spoken for
the very last time, I hope that
the positive traits I try to live
by carry on through my children.
My friends and the people I cross paths
with, and that my shortcomings, well, my
hope is that my shortcomings end with me.
What brought me to this
realization was listening.
Listening to people who've lived full
lives, who've been tested, who've lost
things that mattered, and noticing how
rarely they talked about achievements.
When asked what truly matters, it
also came from my own experiences from
rebuilding what it would've been easier
to stay bitter, guarded, or small.
Those moments stripped away what didn't
matter, and they clarified what does.
Over time, it became clear that
legacy isn't something you declare.
It's something that you live
in the small moments without
applause, without recognition.
That realization didn't
arrive all at once.
It accumulated.
Thank you for being here with me.
Here's to an incredible 2026.