I’ve spent thousands of hours at this computer. Different blogs, posts, endless tweaking. But something feels blocked. At 57, I’ve never bought a new vehicle. The effort is real—so what’s missing? Kyle Mechlinski’s video hit me: What if we’re building without the right foundation?
It’s 3 AM and I’m awake again. Not because I’m anxious or worried—because my mind is buzzing with blog tasks. Is this devotion, or is this becoming something else? I’m thinking about whether I need to shower before going to 7-Eleven. When did that become a question?
I can teach a class with confidence but put me at a drinking party and I’m internally counting the minutes until I can leave. The split between professional ease and social awkwardness that might not make sense to others.
This morning, after working hard on the farm, I came home feeling completely balanced. Physically tired but mentally clear, ready to blog without restlessness. It got me thinking: we often know what helps us feel centered, but how often do we actually protect those things?
Is your comfort actually avoidance? I thought I was serving well in Japan, but a growing spiritual tension is forcing me to ask: When does easy service become a selfish way to dodge a harder, truer calling?
I’ve been studying Japanese for 505 consecutive days without feeling passionate about it. Turns out, competence builds its own momentum—passion isn’t required before you start.
During a recent conversation with Claude (an AI assistant), I asked what I thought to be a grammar question, but received a life journey summary as part of a detailed answer. What came back surprised me, prompting me to write this post and ask you the same question…
I’m starting to wonder if some people are actually… there. Not physically—they’re standing right in front of you—but emotionally, mentally, spiritually. Last week, I asked someone close to me for a simple favor that takes 30 seconds. The response? Nothing. Just radio silence…
Do you ever feel like you love your family but operate on a completely different frequency? A photo from McDonald’s—my sister and 85-year-old father sharing junk food—stayed with me in an unexpected way. I could see the effects of time and caring for everything alone since Mum..
Yesterday, cycling to work in the pouring rain at 56, I wondered: am I being authentically myself, or just making the best of circumstances I’m secretly embarrassed about? When you say ‘it’s all relative,’ are you genuinely content or just making excuses?