Bear Grylls's Recent LinkedIn Posts

It Wasn’t Raining When Noah Built the Ark. He was preparing for a storm that nobody else could see. He was building on a promise that nobody else believed in. He probably looked like a fool. I thought about that a lot when I was writing my book, The Greatest Story Ever Told. I woke up one morning with the idea and I knew I had to do it. I called my publishers and told them it would be the biggest-selling book in history. They laughed. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was supposed to do it. So I wrote. In the jungle at night. On planes. In hotel rooms. I built my ark. And now, to see it selling millions of copies and touching lives all over the world is a humbling thing. Don’t wait for the storm to hit before you start building. If you have a dream, a calling, a mission, start now. Build your ark. The rain will come.

The Skill That Helps Me In The Wild Is Always The Same. Jungles, deserts, mountains, and frozen oceans. Every environment is different. Every challenge is unique. But the skill that has helped me in every single one was the same: adaptability. The ability to read a situation, throw out the plan that isn't working, and come up with a new one. Fast. I've seen the fittest people on my expeditions fall apart because they couldn't adapt. And I've seen people with no experience thrive because they could. In business, it's identical. The companies that survive aren't the biggest. They're the ones that can pivot when the market shifts. The leaders who listen when the data tells them their plan is wrong. Rigidity breaks. Flexibility survives. What's one time you had to throw out your plan and adapt on the spot?

Watching My Son Jump Off a Cliff Was Way Harder Than I Had Imagined! When Jesse turned 18, he did his first big wall BASE jump in the Italian Dolomites. Under canopy by 10 seconds or it's toast. That's the margin between life and death. As his dad, every instinct screamed at me to stop him. To protect him. To say absolutely not. My job as a father is to keep him safe. To use my experience to guide him away from unnecessary risk. But Jesse is his own man. Kind, humble, hard working, original. And I can't stop him jumping off stuff. As we say in our family: "Pull high, don't die." Watching your child do something that dangerous is harder than any mountain I've ever climbed. You can't control it. You can't be there. You just have to trust that you've given them the tools and the values to make good decisions on their own. Sometimes the greatest act of love is letting go. Trusting that they're ready to fly on their own. Even when every instinct is screaming to hold on. What's one moment you've had to let go as a parent or a leader?

Writing About Jesus Was Harder Than Climbing Mount Everest. I’ve climbed Everest, crossed the Arctic, and survived some pretty hostile environments. But writing The Greatest Story Ever Told, was harder than any of it. Because it required a different kind of courage. A vulnerability that we often aren’t used to. To share my faith in a public way. To talk about Jesus not as a historical figure, but as a living presence in my life. To risk the criticism and the ridicule. It was terrifying. But I did it because I believe that story is the most radical, revolutionary, and powerful story in the world. And I wanted to share it in a way that was raw, real, and exciting. I wrote it in the jungle at night while filming. My son thought I’d lost it. But I couldn’t stop. The words just came. And I can honestly say it’s the proudest thing I’ve ever done. Sometimes the biggest adventures aren’t on a mountain. They’re in the quiet, vulnerable places of the heart.

26 Years of Marriage. Here’s What I’ve Learned. Shara and I have been married for 26 years. And people often ask what the secret is. It’s not complicated. It’s choosing each other, every day. It’s knowing that a strong partnership isn’t about a 50/50 split. It’s about both people giving 100% to the team’s success. It’s celebrating the wins together, and carrying the burdens together. It’s having someone who has your back, no matter what. But most of all, it’s about being a safe harbour for each other in a world that can be stormy and unpredictable. It’s the quiet moments that build the strongest foundations. The cup of tea at the end of a long day. The shared look across a crowded room. The hand that finds yours in the dark. That’s the real adventure. Who is your safe harbour?

I Was Customer #8420 Before I Was an Investor. Here's Why I Backed Water2. I was customer #8420 at Water2. I bought their water filter, used it every day, and genuinely loved it. Then I reached pout and asked to invest and partner to make it better. People ask me why an adventurer would get into the water filtration business. The answer is simple: clean water is the foundation of everything. Health, performance, recovery. I've seen what bad water does to people in the wild. I co-led the development of the updated improved filter pod 2.0. It has been a new kind of challenge for me. The principles are the same ones the wild taught me: find something you believe in, build a great team around it, and never give up. I'm proud to be part of this mission. And I'm excited to see where it goes.

At 6, My Mum Took Me to a Gymnastics Class Run by a Military Man. When I was six, my mum took me to a small gymnasium in London for budding gymnasts. We’d line up in rows beneath a metal bar, seven feet off the ground, and one by one he would lift us up and leave us hanging. You weren’t allowed to ask permission to drop off until the whole row was up. And even then you had to request: “Down, please, Mr. Sturgess.” I took great pride in being the last man hanging. My face purple and contorted in blind determination to stick it out. “Down, please, Mr. Sturgess” became a family phrase for hard exercise, strict discipline and sheer determination. It taught me that discipline isn’t about punishment. It’s about pushing yourself beyond what you think you’re capable of. It’s about finding strength in the struggle. And it’s a lesson that has served me well in every environment, from the SAS to the summit of Everest.

The Real Summit Isn’t Some Distant Peak. It’s Right Here. I’ve spent a lot of my life focused on the next mountain, the next expedition, the next challenge. It’s easy to get caught up in the drive, the ambition, the chase. But you can be so focused on the summit that you miss the fact that your kids are growing up at base camp. It's important to constantly remind ourselves of that. To put the phone away. To be present. To listen to the stories about their day, because those small moments turn out to be the big ones. The grass always looks greener on the next ridge. But sometimes the greenest grass is right under your boots. The real summit isn’t some distant peak we’re always climbing toward. It’s right here. Right now. In the ordinary, sacred moments of being present for the people you love.

The Most Dangerous Thing in the Wild Isn’t a Snake or a Spider. It’s Your Own Ego. I get asked all the time what the most dangerous animal I’ve ever encountered is. People expect me to say a shark, a snake, a crocodile. But the truth is, the most dangerous thing in the wild isn’t an animal. It’s your own ego. Ego makes you take risks you shouldn’t. It makes you ignore the advice of your team. It makes you think you’re invincible. In the wild, that gets you killed quickly. In business, it just takes longer. I’ve seen it happen time and again. Leaders who stop listening. Founders who think they know it all. Teams that are so confident they miss the warning signs. Humility is a survival skill. It’s the ability to say “I might be wrong.” To listen to the quietest person in the room. To put the mission above your own need to be right. Stay humble or be humbled.

An SAS Superior Taught Me to Have Three Faiths. As a young soldier in 21 SAS, I was broken down and rebuilt. The training is designed to find your limit, and then push you past it. One of my superiors gave me a piece of advice that has stuck with me ever since. He said to survive, you need three faiths: 1. Faith in yourself. Your skills, your training, your ability to endure. 2. Faith in each other. The person to your left and your right. Knowing they have your back, no matter what. 3. Faith in the Almighty. A belief in something bigger than you, that can carry you when the first two fail. In business, in family, in life, it’s the same. You need all three. The self-belief to start, the team to keep you going, and the faith to endure when it all feels impossible. Which of the three do you lean on most?

I Still Get Nervous Before Every Episode of Running Wild. Season 9 of Running Wild is coming. And I was nervous before filming every single episode. People assume it gets easier. It doesn't. The nerves are always there. The difference is I've learned to use them. Nerves mean you care. They mean the stakes are real. They mean you're about to do something that matters. The day I stop feeling nervous is the day I stop doing it. Because comfort is the enemy of growth. I've met Presidents, A-list actors, and world-class athletes on the show. And every single one of them was nervous too. The ones who thrived weren't the ones without fear. They were the ones who moved through it with humility. If you're nervous about something right now, good. It means you're on the right track.

Shara Has Never Climbed a Mountain With Me. She's Done Something Harder. People sometimes assume my wife Shara is an adventurer like me. She's not. She's never climbed a mountain with me. Never jumped out of a helicopter or crossed an ocean. But she's done something far harder. She's built the foundation that everything else stands on. When people ask me where my resilience comes from, the honest answer is that so much of it comes from her. From knowing that home is solid. That our boys are loved and laughing. That someone I trust completely is running the show better than I ever could. Shara doesn't chase headlines. She doesn't need the spotlight. But she carries our family with a quiet strength that puts most of what I do in the shade. 26 years of marriage and I'm more grateful for her today than I've ever been. The adventures mean nothing without someone worth coming home to. Who's the person in your life whose strength doesn't get the recognition it deserves?

My Faith Doesn’t Give Me a Map. It Gives Me a Compass. I used to think faith was about having all the answers. A neat, tidy explanation for everything. Now I think it’s about being at peace with not having them. It’s about trusting that even when the path is unclear, you’re not walking it alone. It’s about having the humility to say “I don’t know” or “I need help.” For me, that shift changed everything. It took the pressure off trying to be perfect and allowed me to just be present. To be human. My faith doesn’t give me a map. It gives me a compass. A quiet, steady sense of direction in a noisy world. And that’s been more than enough.

I’ve Learned That You Can’t Pour From an Empty Cup. For years, I ran on adrenaline. I thought rest was a reward for hard work, not a requirement for it. I’d finish an expedition, fly home, and be straight into the next project. It took me a long time to learn that you can’t pour from an empty cup. Now, I build rest into my life as a non-negotiable. Time with my family. Time in nature. Time just being still. It’s not lazy. It’s strategic. It’s what allows me to go again, and to be fully present when I do. We live in a culture that glorifies the hustle. But the hustle without the recovery is a short game. Take a knee. Light a fire. Breathe. Then go again. What’s one way you recharge?

I’ve Tried To Teach My Boys to Be Strong. But  Most Of All, To Be Kind. I’ve taught my boys how to build a fire, find north, and tie the knots that will hold your weight. I’ve taken them on adventures. I want them to be strong. To be resilient. To be able to handle themselves in any situation. But more than that, I want them to be kind. Because in the end, kindness is the only currency that really matters. It’s the one thing that will outlast any summit, any achievement, any adventure. It’s how you treat people. How you show up for your friends. How you love your family. That’s the real measure of a person. I’m proud of my boys for the adventures they’ve had. But I’m more proud of the men they are becoming. Kind, humble, and full of heart. That’s the greatest adventure of all.

I spent time in the desert where Jesus is said to have fasted for 40 days. It was a humbling experience. After 40 days, he was at his most parched, starving, beaten, and desperate. At his weakest moment, the devil came and tempted him with everything. I’ve been through my own share of testing. I’ve been stuck in quicksand, pinned in rapids, and broken my back in a parachute fall. And in those moments, I’ve learned something profound. I don’t want to believe in a God that has never been tempted or gone through hard things or suffered. His struggle makes him real. It means he understands ours. It means that when we are in our own desert, at our own weakest moment, we are not alone. That’s a faith worth holding on to.

The Tree Breaks in the Storm. The Reed Bends and Survives. I'm dealing with a few curveballs right now in business. This framing helps me... Some of the biggest, strongest people I've worked with in the wild have been the first to fold. And some of the quietest, scrappiest ones have gone the distance. It used to surprise me. It doesn't any more. Resilience isn't a strength thing. It's a flexibility thing. We all want the perfect plan. We prepare hard, train hard, build our teams and systems. And we should. But the wild doesn't care about your plan. Neither does business. The weather turns. The deal falls through. Your key player leaves. And in that moment, the only thing that matters is whether you can adapt or whether you freeze. The people who go furthest aren't the ones who never get knocked sideways. They're the ones who recover fast and keep moving. What's the biggest curveball you've had to adapt to? Drop it below, I'd genuinely love to hear.

My Dad Taught Me That the Greatest Adventure Is Being Close to Your Family. My dad had a great imagination. On holidays, he could turn a simple hike into a grand adventure. We’d pretend we were soldiers on a secret mission, grenading enemy positions with clumps of manure. I look back now and can see how much my father also found his own freedom in the adventures we did together. What he aspired to most in life was to be close to his family. He taught me that the greatest adventure isn’t climbing a mountain or crossing an ocean. It’s being present with the people you love. It’s a lesson I try to live by every day. And one I hope I’m passing on to my own boys.

My Dad Stood in the Freezing Rain to Watch Me Be a Water Boy. At prep school, I wasn’t good enough for the under nines’ rugby team. I was just the linesman. The water boy. It was a cold, miserable winter’s day. There were no spectators. The sidelines were deserted, except for one lone figure: my dad, standing in the freezing drizzle, smiling. I hadn’t even made the team, but he had still come to watch me. At halftime, I ran onto the pitch with a plate of oranges for the team, and my dad applauded. Lives are made in such moments. What he always aspired to most in life was to be close to his family and for us all to be do-ers and try-ers. And Never Give Uppers. He taught me that our presence is the greatest gift we can give someone. That we show up for the people we love, no matter what. Even if it’s just to watch them be the water boy. That’s a lesson I’ve carried with me my whole life.

The Laminated Bible Verse I Keep In My Boots On Every Expedition. On every expedition, every climb, every journey into the unknown, I used to tuck a small, laminated piece of paper into my boots. It had a verse on it, Matthew 28:20: “Be sure of this, that I am with you, even to the ends of the earth.” It was a quiet reminder. A personal anchor. A promise that no matter how far I went, how lost I felt, or how scared I was, I wasn’t alone. In a world of high-tech gear, satellite phones, and GPS, it was the most important piece of equipment I had. Because it wasn’t about technology. It was about trust. Faith isn’t about having a map. It’s about having a compass. A quiet, steady sense of direction that points you home. And sometimes, it’s a small, laminated piece of paper in your boot.

I’ve Ignored My Faith and Tried to Do Life Without It. It Never Worked. In years gone by, I have ignored my faith and tried to do life without it. I have tried to be strong only in myself. I thought that’s what a leader was supposed to do. To be self-reliant. To have all the answers. To never show weakness. But I never found peace. I never felt truly strong. I have discovered that we lose our power when we try to live on our own strength alone. We need a team. We need a family. We need a faith. I really need His helping hand, His peace within and that quiet assurance. True leadership isn’t about being the strongest person in the room. It’s about being humble enough to admit you’re not. It’s about pointing to something bigger than yourself. That’s a lesson that took me a long time to learn.

The Goal Isn’t to Live Forever. It’s to Live a Life That Will Outlast You. I’ve had a few close shaves in my life. Moments where I didn’t know if I’d make it home. And in those moments, you don’t think about your bank account, your job title, or how many followers you have. You think about the people you love. You think about the life you’ve lived. You think about what you’ll leave behind. It’s a stark reminder that the goal isn’t to live forever. It’s to live a life that will outlast you. A legacy of kindness, courage, and adventure. A legacy of loving people well and making a difference in their lives. That’s the only currency that really matters in the end. What do you want your legacy to be?

At 29, I Crossed the North Atlantic in an Open Boat. Here's What It Taught Me About Fear. In 2003, I led a small team on the first unassisted crossing of the North Atlantic Arctic Ocean. 3,500 miles in an open rigid inflatable boat. We faced icebergs the size of cathedrals and storms that threw our tiny boat around like a toy. I called it “pretty hairy” at the time. The truth is, I was terrified. There were moments in the dead of night, in the freezing cold, where I was sure we wouldn’t make it. In those moments, all the training in the world doesn’t matter. It’s a mental game, and in many ways a spiritual one. I learned that you don’t beat fear by ignoring it. You beat it by acknowledging it, and then taking the next small step. And the next. And the next. And I learned to lean on a quiet strength that I’ve found in faith in Christ. A belief that even in the darkest, most terrifying moments, you are not alone. That expedition taught me that you are stronger than you think you are. And that the greatest rewards in life are found on the other side of your greatest fears. What’s a moment in your life that forged how you deal with fear?

I’ve been writing on Substack a lot over the last 2 months. This is part 4 of a series called ‘The Wilderness Is the Way’. I’m interested to hear your thoughts.

It’s been one of the great honours of my life… thank you for trusting me with the role for so long. Keep shining bright Scouts!