
The Ordinary Practice of Beginning Again
Real change rarely looks dramatic. More often, it looks like getting frustrated, noticing it sooner, and learning how to come back again in ordinary moments.

Real change rarely looks dramatic. More often, it looks like getting frustrated, noticing it sooner, and learning how to come back again in ordinary moments.

For a long time, I wanted to be seen as the one who was excelling. This reflection explores how the need to appear capable, wise, or put together can sometimes be fear in disguise, and how healing asks for honesty instead of performance.

I got really good at escaping. Sometimes it was alcohol. Other times it looked a lot more respectable. Staying busy. Performing well. Holding everything together

A month from today, my memoir will be released. There’s excitement in that, but what I didn’t fully anticipate is the quiet vulnerability that comes with knowing people will soon be able to read a very honest account of my life.

Have you ever looked at someone’s life and thought, “They’ve really done life well”? This reflection is about the comparison spiral, the would-have/could-have/should-have loop, and coming back to the present.

A reflection on productivity, unfinished to-do lists, and learning to meet ordinary days with mindfulness, compassion, and a little more grace.

Most of us will take hundreds of millions of breaths in a lifetime, and no two are exactly the same. This reflection explores “future tripping,” the way our minds rehearse what hasn’t happened yet, and how two or three intentional breaths can bring us back to what’s true right now.

While walking on a treadmill, I noticed how much anger and chaos I was absorbing from screens around me, even with music in my ears. A reflection on awareness, calm, and what we take in without noticing.

I tend to “walk with purpose,” which often means hurry. This reflection explores mission mode, what I learned on solo backpacking trips, and a simple 5% slower practice to come back to the moment.

New Year’s can quietly turn into a pressure cooker. A reflection on the “clean year” myth, happiness as a checklist, and choosing small returns back to what’s real instead of more pressure.