Questions, Books, Dreams and Encounters: How Five People Left or Found Faith
For a missionary who lost his faith, a Mormon who lost his and later found something like God, a campus atheist who woke up, a lapsed Catholic who came back, and a self-described Sam Harris atheist who found Jung, crisis alone rarely changed belief: a question they couldn't dismiss, a book, a dream or a person who lived differently did that work. Several moved more than once, and evidence, experience and community pushed them in opposite directions.

The Short Version
In these conversations, belief rarely turns on a single blow. Daniel Everett went into the Amazon to convert the Pirahã and came out an atheist, because they kept asking where his evidence was and seemed happier than any Christians he knew [1]. Dan Reynolds lost his Mormon faith in his twenties, later had what he calls the closest he has come to experiencing God on ayahuasca, and ended in uncertainty rather than in any church [2]. Going the other way, Michael Beckwith spent his Morehouse years talking Christians into atheism before an awakening at USC [3], Chris DiStefano came back to Catholicism by reading Lee Strobel's The Case for Christ during a family crisis he made himself [4], Jimmy Dore went from what he calls a Sam Harris atheist to belief in a transpersonal self through a Jungian analyst and his own dreams [5], and JD Vance has written a book about finding his way back to faith [6].
Table of contents
What They Said
Daniel Everett: the missionary who couldn't answer his own converts
Everett's story runs in two directions. He grew up in a nonreligious family and, by his own account, was an atheist in 1968, standing outside a Jimi Hendrix concert trying to sell LSD to get in [1]. There he met a girl from his high school who had been raised by missionaries in Brazil. Her father became the most influential person in his life outside his family, and that man's jungle stories drew Everett into Christianity. Everett calls becoming a devout Christian his greatest form of rebellion [1].
He committed fully. He earned a degree in Bible and theology, was ordained, and trained with Wycliffe Bible Translators. In 1977 he went to the Pirahã to translate the Bible [1]. In roughly eight years of living among them, and 40 years of return trips, he never converted a single person, and he is blunt about why: "my claims did not meet their standard of evidence" [1].
The Pirahã did not reject the gospel with hostility. They rejected it with questions and with theater. After Everett showed filmstrips of Jesus, a villager apparently played Jesus that night, chasing the women, and that was how the village turned the story down [1]. They asked what Jesus looked like. When Everett admitted that neither he nor anyone he knew had ever seen him, they lost interest [1]. They also noticed that only Americans seemed to believe it. In the transcript, Everett recounts their reasoning: "this seems like an American thing, but we're not Americans. And then they would say, you know, where did you get your evidence?" [1]
The decisive moment was that Everett took the questions seriously: "I began to think, you know, these are good questions. I can't just throw these questions off. What is my evidence?" [1] He then turned the same scrutiny on his own surroundings and found a pattern he also recognized from his profession:
"I went to Bible school. I've been surrounded by Christianity. Christians. I've surrounded myself by people who believe. And this is what happens in linguistic theory or other scientific theories. You surround yourself with a community that believes the same thing. And pretty soon, it's hard for you to consider alternatives. And so I started considering the alternative." [1]
Two other things weighed on him. The first, and the biggest, was that he didn't know any Christians as well adjusted and content as the Pirahã. A visiting MIT student remarked, "these look like the happiest people in the world" [1]. The Pirahã don't fear death, don't hit children, and treat anger as the closest thing to sin. When a drunk man shot his brother's dog, the brother wept but refused to retaliate because he loved his brother [1]. The second was intellectual consistency. He felt he had to suspend the scientific standards he used in linguistics to keep his faith. He recalls a Bible school teacher's line: "I wonder why faith healers never start with amputees" [1].
When Rogan asks how many steps it took, Everett describes a slow, staged process during which he tried hard to keep his faith:
"with the first step is you start to doubt then you pray so that you won't doubt because the apostle thomas said lord i believe help mine unbelief but then after a certain point that doesn't work so well so you start to read literature from apologetics trying to defend these you know defend your mind against these things that you're thinking and then you realize i'm not satisfied with those answers either so finally one day you reached the conclusion that i just i just can't do it anymore i can't sustain this belief i can't pretend that i have something that i'm not" [1]
The timeline matters. He began "seriously doubting my faith about five or six years into my time so about 1982 1983," but did not announce it until 2001 [1]. What finally pushed him into the open was a public event, not a private insight: "christians were saying things about the war in iraq about how the soldiers that we send over there are the blessed peacemakers of the gospel and um i didn't like that" [1].
Leaving had real costs. When he told his wife, "pretty much instantaneously she walked out of the house and we got a divorce" [1]. His livelihood also depended on his belief: "if you're a christian missionary and you're getting your income from being a missionary and then you tell people oh i don't believe anymore then you're you're unemployed" [1]. He admits the marriage had other problems, but says his wife traced them all to his declining faith. Even his return to rock music, which he had loved before they met, looked to her like "a sign that i was starting to fade away" [1].
The Pirahã reacted in the opposite way. When he told them he no longer believed, they laughed: now he was like them [1]. In his own words: "maybe I was very. right to begin with. And so eventually I told them, I said, you know, I don't believe this stuff anymore either" [1].
The same encounter did not move everyone around him. His ex-wife remains a missionary near the Pirahã today, still unafraid and sustained by the belief that she is "immortal until my task is done" [1]. Everett and Rogan don't dismiss faith. They agree it can offer real moral structure, but say believers should be judged by whether it actually makes them better people [1].
A smaller story shows the pressure from the church side. A Dallas congregation that had funded him walked out of his slideshow because the Pirahã were naked: "you're not even teaching them the basics of Christianity," they told him. His reaction: "I didn't realize that's not part of the basics of Christianity for me" [1]. His atheist father had warned him when he first converted that "one thing about religions is they're always trying to beat their own system" [1].
Michael Beckwith: from converting Christians to atheism to "the presence everywhere"
Beckwith grew up in Holman Methodist Church, where his mother introduced him to Martin Luther King Jr. He left church as a teenager because he found the teaching dogmatic [3]. At Morehouse College he went on the offensive:
"me and a friend of mine who's now an attorney, we used to go out and convert Christians to atheism." [3]
His reason was historical and moral: because we knew that religion, as it was being espoused, was not the real deal. And we would break it down and show people how Jesus had nothing to do with this... That Christianity came a couple of hundred years after Jesus came and left [3].
His road back started in politics. In 1970s Los Angeles he joined a revolutionary organization aligned with the Black Panther Party and served as its propaganda commissioner [3]. During a meeting he heard a voice that "was coming from inside of me," asking whether anything would be different if they took over the world tomorrow. He looked around the room: This guy sitting next to me, I said, this guy's a big ego. He always thinks he's right. This person is very territorial. This person is always contentious... I realized, if we were to take over the world tomorrow, there'd be no change [3]. He left and never returned. The following week, he says, someone at that meeting pulled a gun and shot somebody [3]. He calls that moment "the beginning of the awakening" [3].
At USC he studied psychobiology and began having visions and out-of-body experiences that he kept hidden: "There's no way I'm going to tell my professor" [3]. During an internship in a mental hospital, he was playing ping pong with a patient who described visions and dreams like his own. Then, he says, "I realized for the last five minutes, we haven't been talking" [3].
The turning point was a recurring dream in which three men chased him. When he finally let it play out, the people in line around him turned their backs, the men held him down and stabbed him in the heart, and he "died" [3]. He woke into an overwhelming sense of presence, light and love that he says was beyond any scripture, and he has spent his life since integrating that experience [3]. In the transcript he says he was shocked that "a few years later when I was attending USC had a spiritual awakening. in which I could see the presence everywhere, in everything" [3].
The awakening did not take him back to the church he had left. "I didn't relegate it to religiosity," he says. I moved more into a much more of a spiritual outlook and began to realize what Jesus was talking about and what Buddha was talking about... it wasn't about religion. It was about freedom [3]. When he speaks of God, he means not a man in the sky... But the presence that is never in absence [3]. In his image, religion is a boat that carries you to the transcendent. You honor the boat but don't cling to it, which is why he says, "There's no such thing as a Christian mystic" [3].
Beckwith also offers the closest thing in these sources to a theory of how people change. Asked how people discover their purpose, he answers: "People grow into their purpose two ways. Crisis or insight" [3]. Crisis works by forcing new questions: "sometimes when your back is against the wall, you're in a crisis, then you begin to ask different kind of questions" [3]. It also sends people toward books, stillness and other people: "I better read a book. I better be still. I better go talk to somebody" [3].
He explains why fixed belief resists change. Many people on a religious path, he says, suffer from "a paradigm blindness. They can't see outside of that particular box" [3]. Fundamentalists need to convert others, he argues, because they only believe rather than know. If you truly know two plus two is four, you don't argue [3]. People cling to the known because, as he puts it, the ego "does not know the difference between transformation and annihilation" [3]. He does not dismiss religious community, though. He credits it with service, inspiration and support, notes that people in community tend to live longer, and concludes that "spiritual community is extremely powerful" [3].
Chris DiStefano: an angry Catholic, a sold house, and a book
DiStefano announced his return on Rogan's show without hedging: "I've Refound my love for Christ and I'm back believing I'm back being Catholic" [4].
His departure was driven by anger at the institution. He grew up Catholic and was 17 when the abuse scandals broke, "when our brains are Forming." He already had Catholic tattoos and says he wanted to rip them off: "I was very angry for a while initially Didn't even want to get my kids baptized came around did it" [4].
His return combined a crisis and a book. The crisis was self-made. About two weeks before the biggest weekend of his career, with Radio City one night and the Theater at Madison Square Garden the next, he talked his family into selling their renovated Staten Island home. He sold it for roughly $300,000 under asking so they could walk to a bagel store [4]. The apartment they had lined up fell through, and his partner Jasmine nearly left over what she called his "chaos and self-sabotage" [4]. His eight-year-old daughter told him she missed her pool and her friends and that they had done it for him [4]. His account of what came next puts therapy and faith side by side: "what the hell did I just do how Figure this problem out went back into therapy turned back into religion Starting to find some answers" [4].
The book was Lee Strobel's The Case for Christ, and what persuaded him was its historical argument:
"this guy's putting forward like very compelling arguments for like not only Jesus's existence But his actual like works being real like like this all being fucking pretty real and pretty historically accurate And I was like oh shit, and then so I started to like go back a little bit" [4]
He relays the book's case to Rogan. The gospels were written much closer to Jesus's life than the first biographies of Alexander the Great, oral tradition was carefully checked, Romans and disciples agreed he died and the tomb was empty, and some 500 people reportedly saw him afterwards [4]. He states his conviction strongly: "dude, I'm telling you this book case for Christ the fucking history It's not it's not even an opinion" [4].
Church itself became an hour a week of calm without technology [4]. He describes it honestly: "I started to feel like this like just like calmness and almost like even if it's forced like this force connection" [4].
Rogan was not convinced. The most logical explanation of an empty tomb, he argued, is that someone took the body rather than that a dead man came back to life, and he invoked Occam's razor [4]. He noted that false memories are real and easy to create, that grieving followers who believed they had lost the son of God might see him, and that people see the Virgin Mary in grilled cheese. He added that none of this means Jesus wasn't real or that visions are impossible [4].
Jimmy Dore: quitting pot, a Jungian analyst, and a lion-headed guide
Dore describes his starting point as being what he calls a Sam Harris atheist [5]. Two changes figure in his story. One was quitting marijuana the previous September. He feels the decision came from a higher power, though it cost him his sleep for a while [5]. He credits pot with loosening him up as a younger, rigid comedian. Rogan adds that anything that alters consciousness, including coffee and alcohol, can become a way to avoid being present, and that people who start using heavily in their teens often stop maturing until they get sober [5].
The other was Carl Jung. During COVID, Dore began analyzing his dreams with a Jungian analyst and reading Jung [5]. He explains Jung's idea of a collective unconscious and the "active imagination" experiments of 1913 to 1917 recorded in The Red Book. He cites Jung's reply when asked whether he believed in God: that he didn't believe, he knew [5].
His dreams supplied the experience. In one, an ape-like creature with a half-lion, half-human head gently led him into a jungle. His analyst read it as an invitation into his unconscious, and Dore later found a similar figure in a book about Mithraic imagery [5]. In another, an old man pointed him to the back of a long Starbucks line instead of letting him cut ahead, which Dore took as guidance on a real personal decision [5]. He also dreams of meeting his harshest online critics, sees the pain and jealousy behind their hatred, and wakes with genuine compassion for them [5]. He now keeps a dream journal [5].
His framework treats religious need as universal. People need an experience of the divine, he argues, and without one they create it. He says that is how Fauci and science became objects of worship during COVID [5]. He leans on Jung's idea that the biggest problems in life can never be solved, only outgrown. He sums up his outlook with an image: consciousness is an ocean, the part we see is a wave, and all he can do is try to surf it as best he can [5]. He adds a line attributed to Jesus about the kingdom being spread upon the earth while people do not see it, and says overidentifying with the ego creates our own hell [5].
Rogan extends the theme. He argues that many religions may be rooted in psychedelic experiences, whether induced by plants or reached through practices like monastic meditation. He calls psychedelics chemical gateways into other dimensions and describes reaching geometric visual states through simple breathing and repetition [5].
For reading, Dore recommends Memories, Dreams, Reflections as the best place to start with Jung, and The Undiscovered Self for how it speaks to the present [5].
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Dan Reynolds: lost, then found, but not back in church
Reynolds grew up in a very conservative Mormon family in Las Vegas. His mother would tell the kids to close their eyes when they passed billboards on the way to church, and he wasn't allowed to watch PG-13 movies [2]. He describes seeking God as an obsession since childhood, intensified by an OCD nature that won't let questions go [2].
Losing his faith in his twenties felt like the bedrock of everything he believed being ripped out. For a long time he gave up hope that there was anything beyond evolving, living, dying and nothingness [2]. The loss came alongside severe depression. Early in his career, on a small jet whose engine failed, his brother was texting goodbye while Reynolds felt nothing and even thought it might be nice. He was deeply depressed, medications since childhood had not worked, and he was in a faith crisis [2].
His turn back toward the sacred came through an altered state. He says the closest he has come to experiencing God was through ayahuasca, even though he can't enjoy cannabis because he hates losing control [2]. He was terrified, having been raised with no exposure to drugs, but his wife had a profound healing experience first and he followed her. The first time nothing happened. The second time, about 20 or 30 minutes in, he felt the curtain of reality pulled open. Then he felt he was communicating with something incredibly wise, whether one calls it God, a higher self or Mother Earth [2]. It showed him scenes from his younger life and explained why he struggles to accept success without feeling undeserving [2].
The experience did not restore his Mormonism, but it made peace with it. It dissolved his anger at his parents and community for raising him in what he had seen as falsehoods. Mormonism, it seemed to tell him, was one grain of sand, with some truth and some falsity like all the others, and he should forgive, focus on truth, and let go of control [2]. He stresses that none of it came in words, that it felt as though it didn't come from him, and that he isn't telling anyone to do it. It was the scariest experience of his life, feeling like both heaven and the darkest hell [2].
His song "Believer" grew out of this period. He says the greatest things in his life have come from the deepest hurt, and that after losing faith in everything he was rebuilding a belief in goodness and light [2].
Where he has ended up is deliberately open. He has stopped just complaining about his upbringing and recognizes the good religion gave his family: closeness, and the comforting belief that families are together forever [2]. When his child asked whether they would see him again after death, he said he didn't know but hoped so [2]. His brothers and sister are highly intelligent practicing Mormons, so he won't call them wrong, and a zealous atheist is as laughable to him as a zealous Mormon [2]. He closes the conversation urging people to look for truth wherever it lies and to remember that none of us really knows [2].
His search for help also passed through religious settings first. He saw a Mormon therapist focused on scripture and prayer, then tried Scientology-based marriage counseling (his wife was a Scientologist when they met; she no longer is), before he found secular therapy that worked [2].
JD Vance: what a return to faith looks like in public
Vance appeared on Rogan just as his book Communion: Finding My Way Back to Faith was hitting shelves [6]. In this conversation he talks less about how he came back than about how his faith shapes his public views. Two of his points bear on what draws people to faith or pushes them away.
The first is freedom. He argues that one of the core Christian contributions to Western civilization is freedom of religion, "because you recognize the dignity of each individual and part of recognizing that dignity is that each person has to find their own pathway to god you can't force this on anybody" [6]. He says he tries to live his faith by example rather than preaching to his staff [6]. On war, he invokes Lincoln: "You hope that you're on God's side. You don't assume that God has taken your side" [6].
The second is a disagreement over whether public religion attracts people or repels them. Rogan raised the Texas law mandating the Ten Commandments in classrooms. He relayed the view of James Talarico, a seminary-trained Christian, that representing only the Christian faith in schools forces religion into other people's lives and "is going to push people away from christianity rather than encourage them to pursue it" [6]. Vance doesn't see a displayed Ten Commandments as forcing faith on anyone. He calls it part of Western civilization's law-giving tradition and argues that removing religion everywhere amounts to "taking one religion and replacing it with secularism" [6]. Rogan's reply was short: "The problem is it's mandated" [6]. The two agreed to disagree [6].
Where They Agree, and Where They Don't
Questions that stuck. Everett heard the Pirahã's questions and decided he couldn't "throw these questions off" [1]. Beckwith heard an inner question at a revolutionary meeting and left [3]. DiStefano picked up a book while trying to "Figure this problem out" [4]. Dore went to an analyst and wrote down his dreams [5]. Reynolds says his obsessive nature won't let questions go [2].
Community holds belief in place. Everett's insight that a community of believers makes it "hard for you to consider alternatives" came with the observation that the same thing happens in linguistics [1]. Beckwith's "paradigm blindness" is a similar idea in spiritual language [3]. Yet Beckwith also calls spiritual community "extremely powerful" [3], and DiStefano found calm in church [4].
They disagree on what counts as evidence. Everett and DiStefano both treat evidence as decisive, and it pushes them in opposite directions. For Everett, faith required suspending the standards he used as a scientist, and the lack of eyewitnesses ended the Pirahã's interest [1]. For DiStefano, Strobel's historical case is "not even an opinion" [4]. Rogan, hearing the same case, finds a stolen body the simpler explanation [4]. Beckwith, Dore and Reynolds rely on direct experience instead. Beckwith woke into a presence, light and love he says was beyond any scripture [3]. Dore borrows Jung's claim to know rather than believe [5]. Reynolds felt a wisdom that seemed not to come from him [2]. Beckwith even argues that the need to argue others into belief shows a person only believes rather than knows [3].
They disagree on where people end up. DiStefano went back to the institution he left, with "two feet in Catholicism" [4], and Vance's book title speaks of finding his way back to faith [6]. Beckwith rejected religiosity for a spirituality that honors the boat but doesn't cling to it [3]. Dore found a Jungian framework [5]. Reynolds settled on hopeful uncertainty [2]. Everett returned to the atheism he started with [1].
They disagree on certainty. Jung's claim to know, which Dore embraces [5], and Beckwith's distinction between knowing and believing [3] sit at one end. Reynolds sits at the other: he tells his child he doesn't know, and finds zealotry laughable in either direction [2].
They disagree on whether public religion attracts or repels. Talarico, as Rogan relays him, thinks mandated religion drives children away [6]. Vance thinks a displayed text forces nothing on anyone and that pushing religion out of public life has its own costs [6]. Everett's Dallas funders treated clothing as a basic of Christianity; he didn't [1].
Why It Works
The sources give several mechanisms for how belief shifts.
A question can outlast the defenses. Everett describes a sequence: doubt, then prayer against doubt, then apologetics to defend the mind, then dissatisfaction with those answers, then the realization that "i can't sustain this belief" [1]. The Pirahã's "we're not Americans" pointed at how much of the belief seemed tied to where its holders came from [1].
Lived examples work as evidence. For Everett, the biggest factor was the observation that the Pirahã were more content than any Christians he knew [1]. His original conversion also came through a person, a missionary whose stories drew him in [1]. Beckwith describes the same dynamic when advising people with hostile relatives: you "cannot assist an unreceptive mind," so you love them, live well and wait until they ask why you are so happy [3].
Crisis opens the door. Beckwith's model is explicit. When your back is against the wall, "you begin to ask different kind of questions," and you reach for a book, stillness or another person [3]. DiStefano's house sale is the clearest case: in his telling, the crisis sent him back into therapy and back into religion [4]. Reynolds's faith crisis came alongside deep depression, and his reopening came later through ayahuasca [2]. Everett's private doubt became public when Christians called soldiers "the blessed peacemakers of the gospel" [1].
Inner experience can bypass argument. Beckwith, Dore and Reynolds each describe something that felt as though it came from beyond their own reasoning: an inner voice and a dream of dying [3], dream figures interpreted with an analyst [5], and an ayahuasca encounter that felt as if it didn't come from him [2]. Rogan offers one framework: many religions may be rooted in altered states, whether produced by plants or by practices like meditation [5].
Ego and fear of loss keep people stuck. Beckwith's line that the ego "does not know the difference between transformation and annihilation" is his explanation for why people cling to the known [3]. Everett's experience shows what can be at stake: his marriage ended "pretty much instantaneously," and his income was tied to his belief [1].
Practice sustains belief. DiStefano found a weekly hour of calm, "even if it's forced" [4]. Dore keeps a dream journal [5]. For Beckwith, meditation, prayer, study and fellowship are what let people move past the ego until "it becomes about we" [3].
Where It Applies, and Where It Doesn't
The same encounter does not move everyone. Everett's ex-wife remains a missionary near the Pirahã, still sustained by her belief [1]. Reynolds's highly intelligent siblings remain practicing Mormons [2]. Rogan heard DiStefano's case for the resurrection and stayed skeptical [4].
The pace varies. Everett went from serious doubt around 1982 or 1983 to an announcement in 2001 [1]. Beckwith's awakening followed visions and out-of-body experiences before one recurring dream played out [3]. DiStefano's return came after the house sale about six months before his Rogan appearance [4]. Dore's work with Jung began during COVID [5].
Finding faith means different things. Only DiStefano, and Vance by his book's title, describe a return to the faith they had come from [4][6]. For Beckwith and Reynolds, it meant moving away from institutional religion toward personal spiritual experience [3][2]. Dore, who started out as what he calls a Sam Harris atheist, came to a Jungian spirituality built on his dreams [5].
Not every move is a change of mind. Everett's first conversion came through a missionary's stories [1], and DiStefano's departure through anger at the abuse scandals [4]. DiStefano's return, by contrast, came through a book of historical arguments [4].
Altered states and mental health call for caution. Reynolds is emphatic that he isn't recommending ayahuasca and that it was the scariest experience of his life [2]. Several of these stories unfold alongside depression and anxiety [2][4]. If a crisis of faith comes with depression or anxiety, or you are considering psychedelics, talk to a qualified mental health or medical professional first.
What To Do With It
Ask Everett's question of your own beliefs: "What is my evidence?" [1] Then hold it to the same standard you use in your work. Everett felt he had to suspend his linguistics standards to keep his faith [1].
Look at how your community shapes what you can consider. Everett realized he had surrounded himself with people who believed the same thing, until alternatives became hard to consider [1]. Beckwith calls this "paradigm blindness" [3].
Judge a belief by the lives it produces. Everett and Rogan agree that believers should be judged by whether faith actually makes them better people [1].
When crisis hits, use Beckwith's list. "I better read a book. I better be still. I better go talk to somebody" [3]. DiStefano turned to therapy, church and The Case for Christ [4].
Read the strongest case, then hear the strongest rebuttal. DiStefano found Strobel compelling, and Rogan's Occam's razor and false-memory points are the counterweight [4]. Everett read apologetics and was "not satisfied with those answers either" [1].
Take your inner life seriously. If Dore's path appeals to you, start where he suggests: keep a dream journal, read Jung's Memories, Dreams, Reflections, then The Undiscovered Self [5]. Dore worked with a Jungian analyst rather than interpreting his dreams alone [5].
Don't try to argue anyone in or out. Beckwith once converted Christians to atheism and now says you "cannot assist an unreceptive mind." He defines compassion as "the understanding of the lack of understanding," so you live well and wait to be asked [3]. Vance says he lives his faith by example rather than preaching to his staff [6].
Make peace with where you came from. Reynolds's anger at his upbringing dissolved when he came to see Mormonism as one grain of sand, with truth and falsity mixed in [2]. He now credits his upbringing with the closeness it gave his family [2].
Allow yourself to say you don't know. Reynolds told his child he didn't know whether they would meet again after death, but hoped so [2].
Expect costs and plan for them. Everett lost his marriage and his income when he spoke up [1]. If a change of belief will strain your marriage or your livelihood, think those consequences through and find support before that conversation rather than after it.
Sources
- Daniel Everett on the Pirahã, Losing His Faith in the Amazon and His Clash With Noam Chomsky · The Joe Rogan Experience
- Dan Reynolds of Imagine Dragons on Depression, Faith, Fame, Ayahuasca and Songwriting · Lex Fridman Podcast
- Michael Beckwith on Lewis Howes: Your Pain Pushes You Until Your Vision Pulls You · The School of Greatness
- Chris DiStefano on Anxiety, Self-Sabotage, Bombing for a Billionaire and Returning to Faith · The Joe Rogan Experience
- Jimmy Dore on Corporate Media, Biden's Debate, Endless Wars and Finding God Through Carl Jung · The Joe Rogan Experience
- JD Vance on Iran Negotiations, the Epstein Files, UFOs, Faith in Public Life and Why Young Americans Drift Toward Socialism · The Joe Rogan Experience