Getting Real: Things That Hit Different

There’s something funny about how life works: when everything flows and everything’s going well, I barely notice it. It’s like my brain refuses to acknowledge peace unless it sends me a calendar invite. And then — because life loves balance — I always end up having a couple of days where my mind is exhausted and I suddenly go “what the hell am I doing with my life?”

Getting out of that headspace isn’t always easy. Sometimes it feels like trying to climb out of quicksand. But there are these small moments that help me breathe again — moments that give me a much bigger boost than I realize in the moment.

So today I wanted to share a few of those little things that remind me that, no matter how lost I feel, it’s still worth keeping on. Whether it’s thanks to friends, random sparks of joy, or the unexpected ways nature and daily life show up for you.

I’ve been trying to pay more attention to the tiny stuff that somehow keeps the chaos manageable. Not the big cinematic moments — the real ones.

Like walking back from the gym in the early morning when the sky is just starting to change color. I know it sounds like something straight out of a cheesy “new chapter in my life” montage, but fuck it, I actually like it. There’s something grounding about being sweaty, half exhausted, and watching the sky turn pink like the universe is casually whispering, “Relax, you’re doing fine.”

And then there’s New York. I was walking around the lake in Central Park with my wife — just talking, laughing, taking a break from the city noise. At one point we stopped to take a photo, and for some reason that pause made everything around me hit differently. I noticed the runners passing by, the friends playing tennis nearby, the constant stream of helicopters and planes cutting across the sky. It reminded me that life doesn’t stop. It keeps moving, relentlessly, beautifully, relentlessly again. And if life is bold enough to keep going like that, maybe we should be too — looking it in the eye, taking our chances, grabbing the tiny opportunities it throws our way.

“If I can make it here, I can make it anywhere” – Frank Sinatra

Then there’s the everyday stuff: my cats deciding to sit close enough to acknowledge my existence, or that beer with a friend you almost cancelled on but ends up fixing your entire brain after three sips. Those tiny moments do more for me than any grand revelation ever has.

None of this is huge. None of this will show up anywhere important. But these small, stupid, wonderful pieces of life? They make everything feel a little less ridiculous and a lot more worth being part of.

And honestly? That’s more than fucking enough.