Every now and then, in the middle of a scroll or a deadline or a cold cup of coffee, I’ll get hit with this weird, overwhelming clarity. Not about life’s big questions, but about something deceptively small. Like the movement of my own hand. The way I walk. The sound of my voice. The strange truth that I am somehow made of water, atoms, stardust, and unfinished thoughts… and yet, here I am, managing bills, conversations, and the existential dread of that next work creative deadline (I probably should get on that!).

That’s where this post started.

Not with a plan.

Not with a purpose.

But with a breath, a glitch, and a question that felt like a whisper from the universe:

“Hey, you know you’re doing okay, right?“

Some days the world moves so fast it feels like you’re sprinting in place. Your to-do list breeds like rabbits, your phone keeps begging for your attention, and even your downtime feels performative. You’re constantly watching, comparing, absorbing, reacting. And through it all, you forget the one thing that matters most.

You.

No, seriously. You.

Put the phone down. (Or at least tilt it away for a second.)

Take a deep breath.

Feel your chest rise.

Feel the air exit your lungs.

You’re alive. And that alone is kind of a miracle.

We’re all walking universes made of atoms and stardust, water and memory. We’re movement, story, rhythm and scars. You don’t need to believe in anything cosmic to feel the weight of that. You exist. You love. You laugh. You hurt. You heal. You matter.

And somehow, we forget.

We get swallowed up in the granular chaos of everything, our bills, our inboxes, our errands, our Instagram feed, the podcast you’re behind on, the group chat you haven’t answered, the silent voice in your head whispering you’re not enough. And yet, here you are. Still moving. Still trying.

Still fucking amazing.

Now, look, I know how this sounds. Cliché? A bit. Over-sentimental? Maybe. But I don’t care. Because I also know what it feels like to forget who you are. To drift. To go numb. To wonder if any of this matters. And sometimes, all we need is one person, one moment, to remind us.

So let this be your reminder.

You are not behind.

You are not broken.

You are not a failure because your life doesn’t look like some curated Pinterest board.

You’re human. And being human is messy, loud, aching, hilarious, brutal, boring, beautiful business. You’re in it. That’s enough.

There’s a popular saying, “Don’t sweat the small stuff.” I used to roll my eyes at that. But lately, I’ve started to think it’s not wrong. Because the small stuff is the stuff. The whisper from your partner right before sleep. Your kid’s random “I love you.” A hot coffee in a quiet moment. That one friend who gets your weird. A memory that hits you out of nowhere and makes you smile like an idiot in line at the grocery store.

Those are the real riches.

We spend so much of our lives chasing big things, the job title, the house, the six-figure dream, the perfectly lit vacation photo. And don’t get me wrong, ambition is beautiful. But sometimes, we forget that we’re already holding the things that matter most.

So here’s what I’ve learned, in this middle-aged, crackly-kneed, coffee-fuelled, dad-joke-making stage of my life:

There are only a few hills I’ll die on.

1. My happiness.

Not some Instagram version of happiness. I mean contentment. Peace. Being okay with myself, even when I’m not killing it.

2. My people.

My wife. My kids. My people. No mountain I wouldn’t climb, no bullshit I wouldn’t wade through. End of story.

3. Honour and Respect.

This isn’t about being uptight. It’s about living with integrity. Treating people like they matter. Because they do. And when they don’t get that from the world, I want them to get it from me.

Those are my lines in the sand.

Everything else?

Traffic? Deadlines? Unread emails? That guy who cuts in front of me at the grocery store?

Not worth my soul.

I guess what I’m trying to say is this,

Life didn’t come with a manual. But if it did, somewhere around page 14 it would probably say something like:

Be kind. Breathe deeply. Stay weird. Love harder. And don’t forget, you’re a walking fucking miracle.

If no one told you today, I will.

You’re doing better than you think.

Thanks for reading this far.

If you did, chances are you’re one of my people.

And I love you for that.