Hello again, Dear Reader.

Are you also sitting there, awake at an ungodly hour? When the rest of the world is asleep and the sky outside is dark and waiting? Or do you have the good fortune of reading this from a table somewhere, coffee at hand, sunlight glowing through a window with life moving all around you? Where ever you are, I wish you well.

First, I acknowledge that it has been more than a year since I’ve published anything in this blog. What got in the way was my attachment to comfort and the familiar, habits of reciting old stories while creating new excuses, and settling into an automated way of being. I found myself in a commonplace acceptance of the mundane. So, before I return to my commitment and this collection of late-night writers and mindful wanderers, please allow me to clear with you, Dear Reader, and catch you up on what has brought me to you today.

It has been about eleven months since I found myself doubled-over my keyboard at my day job, with some of the darkest thoughts and feelings of self-defeat that I had ever experienced. It was at that time that something, I am unsure what exactly, called to me. I wasn’t where I thought I should be in life, I was single and pining after a girl, fallen into limerence, lacked direction in my career and loathed my job. I felt isolated regardless of my wide collection of friends. For a while I found solace in hobbies. I had taken to filling my free time with ballroom dancing and found great pleasure in it. I often distracted myself by escaping into the wilderness through camping and hiking, with video game marathons, hosting Dungeons and Dragons campaigns, photography, and dabbling in botany. Yet, that wasn’t enough. I felt stuck.

“Something needs to change,” I whispered to myself.

Somewhere inside of me, I knew that I was keeping myself tied to a frivolous routine and a directionless sense of purpose – it was a rudderless, wasteful time in my life. Despite all of the years of therapy, meditation, journaling, exercise, and a “return to basics” that I had been implementing, I had the sense that something invisible was missing inside of me.

That day, I signed up for a transformational program on a whim and embarked on a six month process where I got to explore and rewrite how I experienced myself, other people, and the world. A friend had recommended that I check out a seminar (of sorts) after taking it herself. At first, I brushed it off and felt an aversion to committing a weekend to something that was presented with a vagueness that rivaled an elevator pitch. But something needed to change. Looking back, I’m grateful for her withholding details so that I could have my own novel experience.

When the day came, I had arrived much sooner than I was asked to. The people, who I could only assume were staff members, were finishing setting up a folding table and laptops to check people in. Displaying surprise that I was there so early, they requested that I come back at the listed check-in time and assured me that there was a method to how they did things. That caught me off-guard at first, and I felt a pang of annoyance, but I was there with the belief that if this didn’t set me on track for positive change in my life – something to hold onto – I would put my quiet plans to kill myself into motion. It was a half-baked, desperate ultimatum. What did I have to lose, other than my life? So, I wandered around the hotel lobby, bought myself a coffee, and watched travelers come and go. The hour passed at a snail’s pace.

I checked in and didn’t know what to expect as I walked down the hallway and passed strangers who I assumed were there for the same reasons, sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall and subtly peering up from their phones as I walked by. I collected my nametag from a neatly organized table – my own name almost imperceptible in a sea of identities – then looked for somewhere to wait where I wouldn’t bother anyone until I was let into the training.

The hotel had chosen to fully cover their walls with large mirrors that spanned the entire length of the room. I gazed at my reflection across from me and studied the sadness on my face.

“Is this who I have become?” I asked myself.

A smile caught my attention. A young man, his hair somewhat long, face unshaven, exuded a warmth that I found disarming. Despite already considering myself suitably equipped to approach strangers, I had made a decision to keep to myself and avoid drawing attention throughout the weekend. And yet here was someone who noticed and saw me.

We introduced ourselves, shook hands, and learned where each other were from. We chatted about what we did for a living and what brought us there that day – he, seeking to sharpen himself into the best man he could be, and me, seeking to find salvation.

The rest of the weekend followed that pattern. I would meet people, learn about who they were, and share a bit about myself. We did a mix of self-reflective exercises, breathwork, and confidence building. None of it was forced upon me and everything was by choice. I felt awkward with talking about my feelings with strangers at first, but little by little, I began to share more about myself and to see myself through a different lens.

In case you, Dear Reader, choose to experience the same training yourself, know that I’m sparing you details like my friend did for me. What I can tell you is that by the end of those three days, I felt like bits of who I was had been dusted off and polished. The parts of me that I had been mourning and forgotten about – the boy who chased bugs and played in the mud, who made childhood friends by walking cups of fruit juice to new kids on the block as their families moved in next door, the person who felt safe – were brought back from memory and revived.

As the weekend closed, I thought that I was done but instead felt a compulsion to continue with the program. I enrolled into the advanced training soon after. That was a whole other experience. If the basic level was picking myself up, the advanced level was like bulldozing every emotional barrier that I had erected for myself and using the rubble to pave a road to freedom. That may sound like a dramatization, and it was a dramatic experience, but that’s what it’s like.

Through a combination of music, movement, and deeply touching experiences, I found relief. I saved myself. There was a moment where one of the other participants in the advanced course announced every intention to leave and I chose to speak up. Something moved through me as I shared what had brought me there and how they were a part of it. I asked them to stay and they did. They completed the program, alongside me, and completely changed. “I” became “we,” a team was built from among the graduates and I became part of a community that you can only understand when you’re a part of it yourself – unique, nearly indescribable, loud in the best of ways.

From there I moved into the legacy program where I got to be part of the support team and witness the transformation of people, just as I had done a month before them. We spent four months performing acts of community service, coaching each other through some of the most challenging life situations, and challenging ourselves to achieve our visions. We urged each other on and took turns carrying emotional weight when it became too heavy, but only when requested. We howled at each other’s victories and still cheered when things didn’t result how we wanted them to – we celebrated everything. I re-learned what it means to commit to something and find value wherever I choose to see it.

Allow me to take a moment to disclose that I am not a spokesperson for the M.I.T.T. program. It did wonders for me and I have encouraged all of my friends and family to do themselves the favor of checking it out. In my experience as a participant and as a witness, there’s always some stone left unturned when you take the time to look. If you’re interested, send me a message and I’ll get you set up.

I’ve been a graduate of the legacy program for six months as of today. I and my teammates from my class are back to fording through the drift of life, occasionally checking in with each other, regularly meeting up for meals, birthdays, or to hang out. Some, myself included, will disappear for periods of time only to come back after feeling a longing for the space and connections that drafted us a new lease on what it means to live. Often, I’ll receive a message that someone was thinking of me, and I do the same. We all hold the magic to move people and sometimes all it takes is a few words out of the blue.

Life definitely feels different. I have a renewed sense of self-value and choose to embrace joy and to embody love whenever possible. There is finally some clarity and I have a hand on the tiller again.

Of course, there are still days where my shadow feels extra sticky and is harder to shake off (as is a symptom of being human). Even then, I recognize that it is a choice to remain in dark places and a choice to see that it isn’t an absence of light. Rather, a highlighting of its presence. Good is all around me. In a world where the news constantly hounds at the senses with some of the ugliest aspects of humanity, the good continues to come through. And wherever it is absent, I always have the choice to create it.

It turns out that I wasn’t “finding my way back” to anything. I only needed to be reminded of who I am and to ask myself who I want to be. I guess it’s true that sometimes you get tired of your own bullshit. Good.

In any case, Dear Reader, my invitation to you is to take a moment and inventory of where you are and how you got there. And I invite you to recognize that you are far from the end point, regardless of how near you may be to achieving goals.

There is a problem with “the journey” often being viewed as only a miserable start and a joyful conclusion. People often skip over the parts in-between. I don’t say that to knock the healing efforts that so many people are on every day. I say it in recognition that there are too many TikToks showing someone crying in the car before cutting to a cute party dress, when there are people watching who feel ugly, self-loathing, and hopeless. There is value in the hell and there is value in the nightmares. Because through that, meeting in the middle between the start and end of your journey, is where the fascinating growth gets to happen. Admire the process for what it is.

At the same time, don’t idolize your demons. The symptoms of your experiences do not define who you are. Comfort in misery and acceptance of bad habits, while also navel-gazing, isn’t mere commiseration. It is resigning to the belief that you deserve less than what you actually do. And you, Dear Reader, deserve more than what you probably think that you do.

You matter and your life has inherent, inalienable value to everyone around you. There is someone out there that you have touched in some way – an old friend retelling a joke they heard from you, someone remembering to check their pockets before leaving the house because you used to remind them, someone smiling at a memory of the way you made them feel. And as a result, they pass that joy and peace onto those in their lives.

You create a ripple effect that touches people who you may never meet. Just a reminder.

The other day, I got to support a friend who was struggling and reminded them of how beloved and beautiful they are, and that nothing that what they were struggling with was their fault. We are not our past memories. We are more than the emotions that we feel. That which is now, does not need to be forever.

Lately I’ve been struggling with my executive function and harnessing the momentum that propels me forward through my days. ADHD, diagnosed depression, and OCD challenges can get in the way sometimes, but do not stop me. Momentum is a freight train of “hell yes,” and momentum can take time to build. But by starting with small actions and building better habits when bigger things feel insurmountable helps – create reasons to try, say “yes” every once in a while, and sign up for that class you’ve been curious about. The expectation of failure is a desire for safety in the form of expecting the worst outcomes. Screw that.

Whenever I find myself sliding back into old ways of thinking, I am reminded that everything will come out okay in the end. Yes, things can get a bit overwhelming sometimes, but recognize that “today” is the “tomorrow” that was dreamed of. This exact moment where you exist is the special time that all of the past challenges have brought you.

One of my favorite uncredited quotes is that “we are all victims of physics”. We are challenged by gravity, constantly being pulled downward and returned to the earth, fighting against forces unseen, leveraging passing moments as they blink by to shift ourselves upright and in new directions.

Navigation is the challenge, endurance comes in waves, and there is always a way forward.

Onward.