When Everything Feels Like Too Much
Some weeks don’t arrive with a single breaking point—they just keep adding weight. That’s what this one felt like. Every day brought another responsibility, another decision, another thing that needed attention while my body and spirit were already stretched thin. I kept telling myself to push through, to stay focused, to keep moving forward. But underneath all of that was a quieter truth: I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and running out of margin.
Choosing Presence & Learning to Stay
I think we’ve been lied to about what thriving is supposed to look like. Somewhere along the way, thriving became synonymous with momentum, clarity, joy, productivity—good weeks where everything clicks and nothing hurts too badly. By that definition, this has not been a thriving week for me. But I’m starting to realize that thriving isn’t a mood or an outcome—it’s a posture. It’s not about having it together or feeling inspired. It’s about choosing presence when things are heavy, uncomfortable, and unresolved.
Anger Is Where I Go First
When things feel uncertain or overwhelming, I don’t feel anxious first. I feel angry. It’s my default response—fast, sharp, and familiar. I hate this about myself. I don’t want to live my life as an angry man, constantly irritated at the world and everyone in it. I know, logically, that my anger doesn’t actually hurt the people I’m angry at—it only eats away at me. And yet, there it is. Again and again.
I Don’t Actually Know What Thriving Looks Like Just Yet
I keep saying I want to thrive—but the truth is, I don’t actually know what thriving looks like just yet. What I do know is what thriving isn’t. I know what I’m done accepting and putting up with. I know what surviving has felt like, and I know what no longer fits.
There’s a lot of discomfort in ambiguity. In uncertainty. In the unknown. Taking a leap of faith is terrifying as hell. Just watch that scene from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade and you’ll know exactly what I mean.
Cashing in my Mulligan
2025.
Well… that was... a year.
Like so many of you, I’ve been reading the year-end recaps — the honesty, the exhaustion, the collective sigh of “2025 was hard.” I feel that deeply. I see so many people saying they’re ready to let the heavy stuff go and finally receive goodness, peace, and joy.
Same. Loud same. If I’m being honest, 2025 sucked ass. It was a total kick in the face kind of year. One of those years where just when you think you’ve hit rock bottom, the floor drops out again. And again. And again.
There were moments I truly didn’t know how much more I could take — physically, emotionally, spiritually. It felt relentless. Exhausting. Heavy. Painful. Some days, survival was the only goal. Some days, I questioned everything.
And yet…