Distilling all the chaos to stillness – I’m tired and fatigued

I'm Tired - I Seek Rest - And I Find Joy And Stillness

I captured a moment of “stillness” after a long day spent recalibrating my daughter’s bedroom. Rear‑view‑mirror glimpses can be grounding, though sometimes they feel more like fairytales. This quiet pause, following a day full of joyful moments, reminded me of how rare stillness has been this year. Rest and recovery weren’t easy; deliberate, purposeful acts often required more energy than I had, while life kept demanding adaptation and throwing plot twists I never asked for.

This moment of distilled quiet — the kind my mind often craves — has too often required effort that left me fatigued and bewildered. I’m grateful that my spouse, Liz Livingston, and my kids trust me, even when the nonexistent instruction manual has been replaced by chaos and whisky‑tango‑foxtrot moments.

As I close out the year, I find myself reflecting on how much compulsory demand is baked into misguided American culture. It reminds me why I keep seeking stillness, and why I try to bridle my desires with discipline, determination, and dedication. Injury and life have both been heavier than usual, shaped by forces far beyond my control. Navigating my own path with mindful self‑scrutiny isn’t easy, but it’s something I’ve been doing since I was fourteen.

People love to throw out clichés about friends and cliffs — but my circle has always been small, and I was usually already at the metaphorical edge doing gainers into deep water. My risk‑reward calculations have always been methodical, guided by intuition, lessons learned, and the wisdom of those who came before me. I’m grateful for the “daemons” — my kids, my ancestors, my mentors — who help me filter the noise.

Too often, while wrestling with obstacles, I forget the sweetness of the journey itself — the waypoints that matter just as much as any outcome, whether planned, prescribed, or serendipitous. I’ve noticed how destination blindness robs so many people of joy.

My hope is that when I find myself sitting in the mud — alone or alongside someone else in theirs — I remember to honor the privilege of our sparks colliding. In those dark, muddy pauses, the small light we share with one another is its own kind of greatness. And when we rise from those moments, may we carry our sparks forward for others who find themselves navigating their own whisky‑tango‑foxtrot chapters.

Some recent reflections to close 2025

Reflection 1 - Distilling Chaos,Joy and Sitting in Stillness

Spent a big part of today giving my 10‑year‑old’s room a makeover — the princess bed is officially retired, and the loft bed era has begun. Her excitement was off the charts. Watching her bounce between pure joy and that classic neurodivergent “okay… what do I do next?” moment was honestly adorable. She’s such a bright, joyful little sunbeam, and getting to witness her move from one joyful moment to the next felt like a gift.

I know she’ll eventually have to navigate a world that doesn’t always offer the guardrails so many people fought for. I just hope she gets to stay a kid for as long as she needs, without being pushed into adulthood too soon.

Today’s bonus: a surprise free Cold Stone treat thanks to a random coupon. She was beaming while the teen behind the counter made her ice cream. Meanwhile, he kept looking at me instead of her, and I wanted to say, “dude!!!she’s the customer.” It’s wild how often kids — and women — don’t get the same basic courtesy men get by default. It’s frustrating.

But overall? A recalibrated room, a joyful kiddo, and ice cream magic. I’ll take it.

Reflection 2 - WTF 2025

Yeah, this year has felt a bit like William Wallace in Braveheart—constantly colliding with a system that seems designed to test my patience, my autonomy, and occasionally my sanity.

But as the Stoics would say, the obstacle is the way… even if the obstacle is wearing chainmail and shouting at me in Middle English.

Honestly, I’m starting to think the Irish guy had the right idea: stay unpredictable, laugh at the chaos, and let everyone assume the gods are on your side.

Reflection 3 - Journeying the Chaos

The chaos of having to stay patient—the endurance, the long suffering—has been overwhelming. I try to let empathy and kindness guide me, even through the plot twists, the pivots, and the apathy around me. I’m exhausted. I’m worn thin. But I still believe that good usually finds a way to prevail. So however you search for hope, hold on. Stay with it.

“Objective judgment, now at this very moment. Unselfish action, now at this very moment. Willing acceptance—now at this very moment—of all external events. That’s all you need.”

– Marcus Aurelius

Reflection 4 - From December 19, 2024

“The wise woman’s stone ‘’ – Unknown

A wise woman who was traveling in the mountains found a precious stone in a stream. The next day she met another traveler who was hungry, and the wise woman opened her bag to share her food. The hungry traveler saw the precious stone and asked the woman to give it to him. She did so without hesitation. The traveler left, rejoicing in his good fortune. He knew the stone was worth enough to give him security for a lifetime. But a few days later he came back to return the stone to the wise woman. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, “I know how valuable the stone is, but I give it back in the hope that you can give me something even more precious? Give me what you have within you that enabled you to give me the stone ? ‘❤

I’m grateful for the way this story invites me to think. Lately, I’ve been exploring the relationship between the journey itself — the experiences, the waypoints — and the measured outcomes at the destination. Both paths offer countless opportunities to intersect with joy or anything else life brings.

Too often, I notice myself and others getting trapped in hyper‑focus on one or the other: either the journey or the outcome. In doing so, we sometimes miss a more fulfilling experience — integrating the lessons from the entire end‑to‑end process.

This story gives me space to pause, reflect, understand what truly matters to me, and then recalibrate and refocus.

Reflection 5 - A thought on Reading by Ryan Holiday

As a dyslexic – reading can be hard, I am grateful for other mediums so I can be a participant on this “bridge”.

Last reflection - A capture and a thought from our journeys to Bremen Germany

The burdens of what she carried from her fall protecting Dennis down the stairs years ago finally had promise- an impossible that had turned for her into I’m possible! The context is below:

The image above is probably one of my favorite captures I have ever taken – under the bridge walkway in Bremen, Germany adjacent to the Schmoor and the river. After walking the schmoor and the Christmas market – Liz’s first big post surgery adventure – we happend across this moment! The person that sheltered there was not present, but on that cold day along the river with Lucas on my back and Liz Livingston wandering the streets post surgery a few thoughts emerged!

The thoughts that my other kiddos, while in great care with the grand parents – this empty feeling could be something they were bearing – with the lights of hope that mom would be better!

Today- I see it reflect a vivid feeling – I feel that I am grieving living people – as they apathetically accept and willfully or otherwise discard their agency to systems that ignore their value, worth or others of this human experience – I don’t say much on the socials – but life is more difficult and heavier than I have encountered as an adult – and I feel that the latch key approach I thought we had matured past is alive and present again! Gen Xers have always just absorbed and adapted, this comfort carousel of others – to which I cannot exert control – is a Painintheass and does not represent the value system I was sold in adolescence- so this image is one of hope for me – demonstrating how recalibration allows for light and reconstructive improvements after wading thru darkness that can seem overbearing – I will not soon forget those that choose to sit with me (virtually or in person) – not to fix me, but to abide with me until the light after the storm that almost always emerges helps to provide clarity from uncertainty few can navigate – uncertainty is too often all I sojourn thru.

So yes, it’s an image that struck the fairytales past and future in a way that allows for my present today to be affected – I feel alive and am grateful that Liz took this leap – it was an still is a miracle – we lived it and still live its fruits today!

🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪 Cheers / memories of the schmoor – Bremen Germany! 🇩🇪🇩🇪🇩🇪