The Thoughts We Rarely Admit
Honest thoughts on dropping the act, showing up with authenticity, and the unexpected relief of just being yourself.
Yesterday, I cycled to work in the pouring rain. At 56, it felt both liberating and slightly absurd. Part of me felt like a happy kid. Another part wondered if this is “failure to launch.”
Sanctuary isn’t just a place. It is the feeling of exhaling after holding your breath all day. For me, it is a 4 AM walk. Where is the one place where you can finally stop performing?
We said goodbye with a fist bump in the rain. Twenty years reduced to a simple gesture. She knew it was the right ending. I was just trying to survive it.
Some mornings at 4 AM, walking to 7-Eleven, I have a conversation with something larger than myself. It is not formal prayer. It is just acknowledging that I have enough for today.
At 4:30 PM, covered in mosquito bites, my boss asked for one more thing. I felt guilty for even thinking “no.” Here is why I am finally learning that boundaries are not character flaws.
Before cancer, I lived as if I was immortal. Now I know I might die soon or live another forty years. Here is how facing death taught me to stop wasting time.
People say we are “rich” if we have a dream, regardless of our bank account. But sometimes I wonder if that is just a story we tell ourselves to feel better about living paycheck to paycheck.
I have lived in Japan for 20 years. I have a 567-day Duolingo streak. Yet, I still panic at the tax office. Here is the complicated truth about why I am not fluent.
I am living paycheque to paycheque at 57. I cycle to work because I cannot afford a car. By society’s standards, I failed. But somehow, I don’t feel like a failure. Here is why.
