It was 7:30 p.m. on a Thursday, and Lauren and I had just put our four daughters to bed…
We’re sitting down watching Dave Chappelle’s recent special on Netflix, and in between my thigh-slapping laughs, I have a deep epiphany…
“If I die, how do I best make sure my wife, daughters, and entire family is taken care of?”
Dave nearly gets assaulted at one of his shows, and his wife is distraught knowing the threat to his life that could have been.
“If you had died tonight, me and the kids would have nothing,” is what Daves’s wife said to him.
Dave reaches into his pocket and pulls some keys out, saying, “Those are the keys to my safety deposit box. God forbid anything happens to me. You and the kids have everything you need in that box.”
“Do you know this b**ch looked in the box while I was alive and well?” says Dave as the crowd erupts into laughter…
“God dammit, David, I opened the box,” says Daves’s wife.
His joke book was the only thing inside the safety deposit box.
“Well, sweetie, look, if you tell those jokes exactly how they’re written, you and the kids should be fine.”
Now, it could have been the THC I took before turning the comedy special on, but after I stopped laughing, I started thinking…
“How do I ensure my family are taken care of?”
“What is it that I’m leaving behind that best helps my daughters live their best lives?”
“What is my work that makes me feel like this is a life worth living?”
One question has been gnawing at me for years: “What is my life philosophy?”
And, hell, “What even is a life philosophy?”
I’m sitting here, glancing over at my bookshelf, crammed with books by everyone from ancient philosophers to modern-day thinkers. My Apple iNotes and Google Drive are overflowing with notes from everything I’ve read, listened to, and obsessed over. I even spent 18 months with a personal mentor, diving deep into as many schools of thought as I could get my hands on—from animism to today’s thought leaders.
It’s been a full-on obsession.
Whenever I could spare time from running my businesses, I’d read ancient wisdom texts or attend lectures, trying to decode what all this stuff meant and, more importantly, how to actually use it.
To me, a life philosophy isn’t about dropping quotes or being some armchair philosopher who can talk the talk. It’s about having a lens through which you view the world, a perspective that helps you make better decisions and live a good life.
But here’s the thing—it’s not just about having one lens. It’s about knowing when to switch lenses when to take them off, and when to combine a few to get a clearer picture of life.
The real power in all of this is knowing that you can change who you are.
Let’s face it—we’re all a bit like characters in a story we’ve partially made up ourselves. Our minds are biased, stubborn, and pretty damn good at convincing us that we’re the hero of the tale.
And here’s the kicker: our sense of self is hugely influenced by our memories.
But here’s where it gets interesting—our brains are wired to make sure we look good in our own story, even if that means tweaking the details a bit.
It’s like our brains are doing a bit of mental gymnastics, rewriting our memories to fit the narrative where we come out on top. And while that might sound a little shady, it’s actually incredibly empowering.
Psychologists Carol Tavris and Elliot Aronson have pointed out that some of the most significant memory distortions are those that help us justify and explain our lives. Our memories become a tool for self-justification—a way to excuse our mistakes and failings so we can keep on believing in the hero we think we are.
In a way, our brains are master storytellers, spinning seductive lies that make us feel better about ourselves. While this is a bit of a mind-bender, understanding it gives us the power to rewrite our story, change who we are, and become the person we truly want to be.
“The world is not made of atoms. It’s made of stories”.
This is to say that as I sat there watching Dave Chappelle crack jokes about life and death, I realized that the stories we tell ourselves and the ones we leave behind are what really matter.
That moment, between the laughs and the deep introspection, was a wake-up call.
Now, I’ll be the first to admit I’m no Dave Chappelle—I’ve got the comedic timing of a turtle, and my joke book wouldn’t get us very far. But what I do have are the lessons I’ve learned from a lifetime of trial and error. These lessons have helped me build a life that, despite all its messiness, I’m genuinely proud of.
Through all the mistakes, the accidental right decisions, and the rollercoaster of highs and lows, I’ve managed to distill my experiences into something practical and valuable. I’ve boiled it down to one model, two frameworks, and three philosophies.
That’s what I want to share—not just the theory, but the practical, real-world stuff that’s helped me along the way.
Model: Finding Clarity in Chaos.
I’m either going to drop dead way before the average life expectancy, or I kick-started my mid-life crisis way ahead of schedule.
The existential angst hit me like a freight train, and suddenly, I found myself grappling with the profound questions of life that seemed to come out of nowhere:
What is the meaning of life?
What is the nature of reality?
What is consciousness?
What is the nature of good and evil?
What happens after death?
What does it mean to be human?
How do I live my best life?
So, I plunged headfirst into philosophy, starting with Buddhism, which quickly led me to Stoicism.
But as I read more, I had more questions than answers.
The threads I pulled weren’t giving me the clarity I wanted.
I want to be able to argue both sides of an argument, which means I want to be deeply versed in the subject matter and, more importantly, come to my own conclusions rather than just parroting someone else’s ideas.
Whenever I tried to explain what I was learning to someone else, it sounded robotic, like I was reading a script or recounting my times tables.
So, to get a handle on this, I hired a private philosophy mentor, and we began weekly sessions.
In our first session, I laid it all out: “I want you to teach me and open up the world of different philosophical schools and teachings and show me how they interweave.”
The good news?
Clearly, I wasn’t the only one wrestling with these big questions.
At first glance, the Eightfold Path of Buddhism, the Four Agreements of Toltec Wisdom, the Tao Te Ching, the Sermon on the Mount, the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, the Six Perfections, the Way of the Warrior, the Bhagavad Gita, the Four Noble Truths, and the Ethics of Confucius seem like disparate threads.
So, as I stepped back to see the big picture, I realized these teachings weave together into a unified fabric. Each offers its own unique take, language, and perception, but one can even see a unique pattern weaving together these fundamental human truths.
The Eightfold Path’s focus on ethical and mental development resonates deeply with the Yoga Sutras’ guidance toward physical, mental, and spiritual harmony.
Both frameworks highlight the importance of right actions and mindfulness, aiming to free us from suffering and illusions.
The Four Agreements’ counsel to be impeccable with our word and always do our best aligns perfectly with the Bushido code’s emphasis on honesty, integrity, and dedication.
These remind me that our words and actions shape our reality and that living with honor and intention cultivates a life of fulfillment and peace.
The Tao Te Ching’s principle of wu wei, or effortless action, finds a powerful echo in the Christian Sermon on the Mount, where Jesus advocates for humility, forgiveness, and love.
Both teachings encourage us to align with the natural flow of life and approach others with compassion and understanding.
The Taoist pursuit of simplicity and humility parallels the Buddhist cultivation of patience and generosity found in the Six Perfections, aiming to dissolve the ego and foster a profound sense of connectedness and inner peace.
The Bhagavad Gita’s call to balance worldly duties with spiritual growth echoes Confucius’s emphasis on social harmony and moral virtues. Duty (dharma), devotion (bhakti), and selfless action (karma yoga) are not far removed from Confucian ideals of righteousness, benevolence, and proper behavior.
These teachings stress that our individual actions contribute to the larger social fabric, advocating for a life where personal growth and societal well-being are intertwined.
Why do some schools of thought resonate more deeply with certain individuals?
The answer lies in their diverse paths toward the same end: understanding, fulfillment, and enlightenment.
Personal experiences, cultural backgrounds, and individual temperaments draw us to different aspects of these teachings. Someone seeking inner peace might find solace in the meditative practices of Buddhism.
At the same time, another yearning for ethical clarity might resonate with the directness of the Four Agreements or the steadfastness of Bushido.
How Does This Actually Help Me Live a Better Life?
Before we dive any deeper, let me lay down the thread that’s going to run through all of this: “So, then…?”
This journey has never been about indulging in mental gymnastics or trying to sound like the smartest guy in the room. It’s been about figuring out how to live a life with less stress, how to bounce back when depression knocks me down, and how to be a better father, husband, and friend.
At first, I was on a mission to find the one answer to everything—the elusive “theory of everything.” But all that did was leave me feeling like I was banging my head against the wall. Eventually, I realized it’s not about finding one universal answer that fits everyone’s life. That’s a fool’s errand.
It’s about finding the right lens to help me in this current chapter of my life. The key is not clinging to it with an iron grip but knowing when to let it go and swap it out for something that better serves me as I grow and evolve.
In the end, these philosophical teachings aren’t isolated silos; they’re interwoven threads of us humans just trying to make sense of it all. It’s not about having all the answers, but about having the right tools at the right time to navigate the complexities of life.
They remind me that despite our different journeys, life’s core questions and aspirations—seeking truth, living ethically, and finding harmony—are universal.
Embracing this collective wisdom has allowed me to tap into a deeper, shared humanity, guiding me to live more consciously and compassionately.
I started to see these philosophies as Lego blocks.
Once I could finally piece them together and better define them, I could apply and integrate them into my life.
They came together as five distinct parts, each contributing to the whole:
1 – Ethical Living.
2 – Mindfulness and presence.
3 – Purpose and Duty.
4 – Self-improvement and Wisdom.
5 – Compassion and Community.
Ethical Living
Living ethically, at least for me, is all about trying to embody integrity, compassion, and respect in everything I do.
Now, I know that sounds like a mouthful, but it’s something that resonates with me across all the different philosophies I’ve come across.
The more I dig into this stuff, the more I realize that ideas like the Eightfold Path’s right action, which is all about ethical conduct, aren’t too different from the Four Agreements’ advice to be impeccable with our word and always do our best.
These principles push me to act honorably and honestly—kind of like how the Samurai were all about rectitude and honor, minus the cool swords and armor.
Let me be real, though. I haven’t always nailed this.
There was a time when I faced a tough business decision, and it would’ve been so easy to take a shortcut—bend the truth just a little to get the deal done.
But then I remembered these teachings about how living ethically isn’t just about me—it’s about contributing positively to the world around me.
That decision, as frustrating as it was, made me realize that sticking to my values is worth it, even when it’s not the easiest path.
I sleep better at night because of it.
And a grounded life philosophy is to do just that. Help you sleep like a brick because you’re in integrity.
Mindfulness and Presence
Mindfulness has become a non-negotiable part of my daily routine.
It’s what keeps me from making dumb mistake after dumb mistake, which, let’s face it, happens more often than I’d like to admit. Buddhist practices emphasize staying present and aware, and that lines up perfectly with the Taoist idea of wu wei, or effortless action.
When I practice mindfulness, I’m more in tune with life’s natural flow, less hung up on what went wrong yesterday, and less worried about what might happen tomorrow.
I’m ashamed to admit, but I’ve found myself in the middle of making love to my wife and there my mind was—thinking about everything I hadn’t accomplished and stressing about the next day’s to-do list.
Only to then find myself having performance anxiety and not wanting to lose my erection.
But instead of letting it take over, I caught myself. I took a few deep breaths, anchored myself in the moment, and let go of all that mental clutter.
When I brought myself back to the present, not only did the anxiety fade, but I was able to fully enjoy the moment and reconnect with my wife in a way that truly mattered. It’s amazing what a little mindfulness can do, even in the most unexpected situations.
Purpose and Duty
Finding and fulfilling your purpose is a journey, and it’s one that’s deeply shaped how I live my life.
I struggled to turn the pages the first time I tried to read The Bhagavad Gita.
But when I was finally about to sink my teeth into it, I discovered that it talked about Dharma or duty. It taught me that aligning my actions with a higher purpose isn’t just important—it’s everything. This idea really resonates with the Eightfold Path’s right intention, which encourages us to act from a place of genuine intention rather than selfish desire.
I remember a time when I felt lost—like I was just going through the motions. Each day felt like a rinse-and-repeat from the day before, and I lost my love for the process.
But then I started to dig into these teachings, and it hit me: living purposefully isn’t about grand gestures or huge life changes. It’s about committing to the responsibilities you have but doing so with honor and dedication. By embracing this, I’ve found that my life has taken on more meaning, and I feel like I’m actually contributing something positive to the world.
Self-Improvement and Wisdom
Self-improvement and the pursuit of wisdom have been lifelong pursuits for me, but I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve taken it too far at times.
I got caught up in reading all the books, listening to all the podcasts, and constantly consuming more and more, thinking that was the path to growth.
But instead of finding peace, I found myself turning into a self-help junkie, and honestly, it only made me more miserable.
I mean, sure, the Six Perfections, with their focus on virtues like generosity, patience, and wisdom, have been great guides for my personal growth. And the Yoga Sutras’ Niyamas—all about inner and outer purity, contentment, and self-discipline—have definitely pushed me to keep learning and striving for self-actualization.
But I’ve stumbled a lot along the way. There have been times when I thought I had it all figured out, only to realize I was completely off track.
What I’ve learned is that personal growth isn’t just about hoarding knowledge—it’s about actually becoming a better version of myself, someone more in tune with who I really am and the world around me.
And let’s be real, that’s still very much a work in progress. But I’m starting to see that the real journey isn’t in consuming more, but in applying what I’ve learned, living it out, and giving myself the space to grow at my own pace.
Compassion and Community
For a long time, I was all about chasing my own success and ticking off achievements. I was so focused on hitting those milestones that I didn’t give much thought to the people around me. Community?
It felt like something that would slow me down, something I could worry about later, once I’d “made it.”
But the further I got down that road, the more I realized something was missing. No matter how much I achieved, it never felt like enough, and the sense of fulfillment I was chasing always seemed just out of reach.
It wasn’t until I started letting go of that relentless drive for achievement that I discovered something surprising—what I was really looking for was right in front of me the whole time. It was community.
The concept of Ubuntu, this idea of shared humanity, hit me hard. It made me see that my well-being wasn’t just about my own success, but about the connections I had with others.
As I began to shift my focus from just achieving to actually connecting, something profound happened. I started to build stronger, more meaningful relationships, and for the first time, I felt a deep sense of belonging.
I realized that by embracing community, I was tapping into something much bigger than myself. The fulfillment I’d been chasing through individual success was there, waiting for me, in the bonds I was building with others.
Letting go of that constant need to achieve opened me up to a kind of richness in life that I hadn’t even known I was missing.
It’s taught me that true success isn’t about what I accomplish on my own, but about the relationships I nurture and the community I contribute to. In the end, it’s those connections that make life meaningful.
Now, look, I’m not perfect.
Far from it.
I’m still figuring this all out, one Lego block at a time.
But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from trying to figure this stuff out, it’s that we’re all in this together.
As much as our egos won’t want to hear it…
Life is a team sport.
Centuries worth of wisdom boiled down to an analogy involving Lego blocks—maybe I’m a total nutcase who should stick to my day job, or maybe, just maybe, I’ve stumbled onto something that’s helping me show up as a better person and not overcomplicate this crazy thing called life.
Time will tell.
Framework: Addition Through Subtraction
The younger me used to think I could get everything done at once, like some kind of multitasking warlord, and then I’d wonder why everything went sideways and I was completely wiped out by the end of the day.
Sure, there are times when you just have to put your head down and push through, but I spent so many days sprinting, chasing the end of my to-do list like it was some finish line, only to realize I was just running toward an endless horizon.
Eventually, it hit me—I was going about it all wrong.
My priorities were completely out of whack.
I was focused on doing everything, instead of focusing on what really mattered.
So now, when I feel that familiar overwhelm creeping in, when I’m confused or just plain frustrated, I fall back on the framework that’s kept me grounded as a father of four daughters, a husband, and the guy running the show at work: Do less. Do it better. Do it with love. That’s what keeps me sane and helps me keep my priorities straight.
Do less doesn’t mean slacking off; it means cutting through the noise and focusing on what really matters. That morning, I realized the most important thing wasn’t getting out the door on time or making sure I had every detail nailed for the meeting. It was about being there for my kids, really being there, and making sure the start of their day wasn’t a total disaster. So, I chose to focus on calming the situation with the girls. I listened to them, took a moment to connect, and didn’t rush through getting them ready, even if it meant running a little late.
Do it better is about quality over quantity. If I’m going to tackle something, whether it’s a business project or just helping my daughter find her missing shoe, I want to do it right. That morning, by focusing on what mattered most—my daughters—I could give them the attention they needed. I wasn’t multitasking or mentally checking out. I was present, fully engaged, and that made all the difference.
And then there’s Do it with love. This one ties everything together. It’s the secret sauce that turns a hectic, stressful situation into something meaningful. Whether I’m prepping for a big meeting or braiding my daughter’s hair, I try to approach it with a sense of care and love. That morning, by choosing to show up for my girls with patience and understanding, rather than frustration and rush, I turned what could have been a total meltdown into a moment of connection.
This framework isn’t just about productivity; it’s about living in a way that feels right. It’s about making sure that what I do matters, that I’m doing it well, and that I’m doing it with love.
In the chaos of everyday life, this approach brings a sense of peace and fulfillment that you just can’t get from cramming more onto your plate. It’s how I stay sane, stay grounded, and, most importantly, stay connected to the people and things that matter most.
Framework: Turning Conflict into Connection
I’ve spent 37 years stumbling through life without knowing how the hell I managed to get by without the tool of non-violent communication (NVC).
Terrible name I know, but bare with me as its been a game-changer for me…
As once I started using it, I realized just how much easier, more peaceful, and downright more effective life could be. It’s like suddenly finding the instruction manual to relationships that I didn’t know I was missing.
Let me share a story to show you how this plays out in real life. A while back, my wife and I had one of those frustrating moments that could have spiraled into a full-blown argument.
We had planned to meet up at home after a long day—something I was really looking forward to. I got home on time, but she was running late, and not just a few minutes—20 minutes late. Now, the old me would’ve jumped straight to judgment, thinking, “She doesn’t respect my time,” or, “Why can’t she ever be on time?”
But instead, I paused and remembered the first step of NVC: Observation.
Observation
The key here is to describe what you see without adding your own spin or judgment to it. So instead of thinking, “She’s being inconsiderate,” I said, “When I see you arrive 20 minutes late for our meeting…” Simple, factual, like a video camera recording the event. This might seem basic, but trust me, just sticking to the facts keeps the conversation from derailing before it even starts.
Feelings
Next comes Feelings. This is where I had to get real with myself about how I was feeling, without blaming her for it. So I continued, “…I feel frustrated and anxious…” Now, I don’t know about you, but admitting I’m feeling something like frustration can be tough. It’s way easier to point the finger and say, “You’re making me mad!” But NVC teaches you to own your emotions, which, honestly, is pretty damn liberating.
Needs
Then we get to the heart of the matter: Needs. This is where I had to dig deeper and figure out what was really bothering me. Why did her being late trigger such a strong reaction? And I realized it’s because I need reliability and respect for our time together. So I said, “…because I need reliability and respect for our time together.” It was like a lightbulb went off. Suddenly, I wasn’t just venting frustration—I was explaining what I actually needed.
Requests
Finally, we get to Requests. This is where the magic happens. Instead of just unloading my feelings and needs, I made a clear, doable request: “Would you be willing to call me if you’re going to be more than 10 minutes late next time?” Notice how specific that is? It’s not about asking for a vague promise or hoping she reads my mind. It’s about making a concrete request that helps meet my needs.
And you know what?
It worked.
Instead of escalating into a pointless argument, we actually had a productive conversation. She understood where I was coming from, I got a better understanding of her situation, and we both walked away feeling more connected rather than resentful.
So now, when I find myself in a sticky situation, I run through these steps—Observation, Feelings, Needs, Requests—and it’s like having a roadmap out of the chaos.
It’s not always easy, and yeah, sometimes (a lot of the time) I slip up and go back to old habits.
But when I stick to this framework, the difference is night and day.
The big shift for me was a change in perspective, and I think this really hits home in marriage. When conflict comes up, it’s not about seeing each other as the problem or gearing up for conflict.
Instead, it’s about coming together as a team, recognizing that the problem is separate from us, and working together to solve it.
Philosophy: Be First
Be first.
It’s about stepping up, taking full responsibility for myself, and not waiting around for someone else to show me the way or give me permission to do the right thing.
No more excuses, no more looking to others for validation—it’s on me.
The mantra I keep close is simple but powerful: “Chris, don’t be foolish.” It’s a direct jab at my ego, a reminder from my better self to get my act together and make the right next move.
Being foolish, to me, is knowing the right thing to do but lacking the strength of character to follow through. And let me tell you, nothing stings more than those moments when I fall short.
It’s a gut punch, a real blow to the ego, every time I catch myself slipping, choosing the easy way out instead of the path that aligns with my values.
That’s when my self-respect takes a nosedive—because deep down, I know better. I know I’ve got it in me to do what’s right, even when it’s tough, but sometimes I just don’t muster that strength.
In those moments, I have to remind myself: true character isn’t about knowing what’s right; it’s about having the guts to act on it.
It’s about holding myself accountable, keeping my integrity intact, no matter what’s going on around me.
Because in the end, that’s where genuine self-respect comes from—doing what’s right, not just what’s easy. Life’s too short to play the waiting game. If I want something done, if I want to live in a certain way, or if I believe in a particular cause—I can’t wait around for someone else to take the lead.
I’ve got to be the one to step up. I’ve got to set the standard. I’ve got to lead by example.
I’ve learned this the hard way, especially when it comes to taking care of my family, my friends, and my businesses.
I can’t afford to sit back and hope things will work out. I have to be proactive, make the tough calls, and sometimes, yeah, I have to take risks. But this isn’t about being a control freak; it’s about owning my life and my choices. It’s about recognizing that if I want to see change, I need to be the catalyst for it.
Being first isn’t just about making decisions—it’s about embodying the values I hold dear, even when it’s uncomfortable or inconvenient. It’s about having the courage to stand up for what I believe in and the integrity to follow through. It’s about leading with action rather than words.
I remember a time not too long ago when I was faced with a situation that really tested this philosophy. A close friend was going through a tough time, and it would have been so easy to just offer some comforting words and move on. But I knew deep down that he needed more than that—he needed someone to really step up, to be there in a way that mattered. I had a lot on my plate already, and part of me wanted to take the easy route, but that voice in my head wouldn’t let me off the hook. “Chris, don’t be foolish.”
So, I made the time, put my own stuff aside, and really showed up for him. And you know what?
That decision didn’t just help him; it changed something in me too.
It reinforced that when I take responsibility when I lead by example, I grow stronger. My self-respect deepened because I knew I could rely on myself to do what’s right, even when it’s not convenient.
There’s something remarkable that happens when I consistently take responsibility and lead by example. My self-respect grows, brick by brick, day by day.
I start to see myself as someone who can be relied upon, someone who doesn’t shy away from challenges but meets them head-on. This self-respect is the foundation of confidence and inner strength.
It’s a way of living that breeds respect, trust, and ultimately, fulfillment—for yourself.
Philosophy: From Me to We.
We’re all part of something bigger—this thing we call life is a team sport.
It’s not just about us as individuals or a string of disconnected events. It’s about recognizing that everything and everyone is intertwined in this vast, intricate web.
Our actions, choices, and even our very existence are part of a larger whole, affecting not just ourselves but everyone around us.
I used to think life was about chasing my goals and focusing on what I needed to do.
But the more I’ve lived, the more I’ve realized that my well-being isn’t just about me; it’s about the people I interact with, the environment I’m in, and the community I’m part of.
I’ve seen this play out in my own life probably more times than I’ve even realized.
There was this one time, after a particularly rough day, I was being the typical prick we all dislike. I was the dude standing in line, head in my phone, trying to reply to Slack messages.
On my way home, my head buzzing with frustration, I stopped by a local cafe in Bali to pick up my dinner.
The waiter did something remarkable.
He clearly noticed my shitty energy and paused long enough in our interaction that made me look up to take notice of him. I met his eyes, and he gave me a genuine smile. “Hope you have a great evening,” he said, and it was like a switch flipped.
My whole demeanor changed and I realized I was living in a world with people all around me, and here I was being a douche. That brief moment of connection turned my day around.
It was a small gesture, nothing earth-shattering, but it’s proof that we’re all deeply connected.
Our actions, no matter how small, have real consequences. When we forget that, when we start thinking only of ourselves, that’s when things start to fall apart.
Misunderstandings brew, relationships break down, and you’ve got a fractured community before you know it. Ignoring our shared humanity isn’t just shortsighted—it’s a recipe for disaster, creating unnecessary pain for everyone, including ourselves.
But I’m not here to preach. Let’s get real. When you see how your life is tied to others, you naturally make better choices.
You become more thoughtful more considerate, because you understand that what you do ripples out. This awareness doesn’t just make you a better person; it strengthens your relationships and your community.
It’s those small connections—a smile, a kind word, a simple act of kindness—that make all the difference.
Philosophy: The Power of Reframing.
I’m a little embarrassed; this piece took me a while to put together.
The first attempt of this essay was over 7-weeks ago. And here we are on the final passage together…
And here I am again, about to share with you how I’ve messed up.
As last night, I came home after a long day, and I was in a terrible mood.
You know the kind—where everything that could go wrong did, and then some. I was pissed off about a domino effect of things that went sideways, each one compounding on the last until the whole day felt like a colossal waste.
And to top it off, I knew that tomorrow was going to be more of the same—filled with tasks I didn’t want to do, things that felt like they were just eating away at my time. Two days gone, just like that.
So there I was, venting to my wife like a five-year-old who just got his favorite toy taken away. “I have to do this, I have to do that,” I grumbled, words spilling out like a broken record stuck on ‘complain.’ And then it hit me—right in the middle of my pity party—I heard myself say it: “I have to…”
There it was, the immature, childlike version of myself having a full-on tantrum because I wasn’t doing what I thought was more fun, more fulfilling.
I wasn’t just mad; I was resisting the reality that not every day is going to be a highlight reel. I was avoiding responsibility, plain and simple.
That’s when I realized I needed to hit the brakes and reframe the whole damn situation.
See, life isn’t just a series of events that happen to us; it’s a relentless stream of experiences that challenge, shape, and redefine who we are.
And if there’s one philosophy I’ve made the cornerstone of my life, it’s the art of reframing.
When I talk about reframing, I’m not just tossing around some feel-good jargon. I’m talking about consciously and deliberately choosing to meet every twist, turn, and setback with resilience and responsibility.
Because let’s face it, no one ever built a meaningful life on easy street.
The truth is, adversity isn’t just inevitable; it’s essential.
A master in any craft knows this.
You hit a plateau, and most people might panic, see it as a sign to quit, or change course.
But not me.
No, when I hit a plateau, I do my best to meet it like an old friend. This isn’t a detour; it’s the way.
This mindset is beautifully captured in Rumi’s poem, The Guest House.
Rumi reminds us that every emotion, every experience, is a visitor in our lives. “This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival.” Joy, sorrow, anger, frustration—each one is a guest, and it’s our job to welcome them all, even if they’re dragging mud across the carpet. Rumi teaches us not to shut the door on these visitors, but to greet them with open arms, to learn from them, and to let them pass when their time is done.
And let’s be real…
It’s easy to hear all this and think it sounds a bit too soft, a bit too passive.
But there’s nothing passive about embracing your fate or greeting every experience like an honored guest.
It takes guts.
It takes grit.
It’s about standing in the face of life’s storms with your feet planted firmly on the ground, saying, “Is this all you’ve got?” And when the storm passes, because it always does, you’re still standing—stronger, wiser, and more ready than ever to take on whatever comes next.
So, there I was, mid-rant, when I caught myself. I stopped and thought, “What the hell am I doing?”
I was letting a couple of frustrating days dictate my mood, my mindset. I was letting it steal my joy, my peace. And that’s when I decided to reframe the situation. I took a deep breath, apologized to my wife for the tantrum, and reminded myself that this was just another plateau, another opportunity to practice what I preach.
Sure, I had things to do that I wasn’t excited about, but I could either resent them and make myself miserable, or I could embrace them as part of my journey. I could see them as stepping stones, not stumbling blocks.
And that’s exactly what I did. I woke up the next day with a different attitude—not one of resignation, but one of determination. I tackled those tasks head-on, not because I had to, but because I chose to.
And you know what?
It made all the difference.
We often get so caught up in the daily grind, in the tasks we dread and the things that go wrong, that we forget the simple truth: we have a choice in how we respond to it all.
Life isn’t going to hand us a smooth ride on a silver platter, and honestly, where’s the fun in that?
It’s the bumps, the detours, the plateaus that shape us.
They’re the moments where we get to decide—do we let them break us, or do we use them to build ourselves up?