The older I get, the more I realize that one of the most attractive traits is genuine enthusiasm. It's energizing to spend time around people who show real excitement for life. For people, ideas, and tiny moments. It takes courage to care so openly. Enthusiasm is contagious.
Underrated life advice: Be fully where your feet are. When you're at work, work. When you're with family, be with family. When you're resting, rest. Most people are physically present and mentally everywhere else.
Underrated life advice: Give yourself credit. You’re doing better than you think. You’ve made it through things that once felt impossible. You’ve grown in ways you once prayed for. You've accomplished goals others said you never would. Take a moment to soak it in.
Stop rushing through your life. Slow down. Be present in your own life. Don’t just do things on autopilot while your mind is somewhere else. Be in that moment. When you pick up a pen, be there. When you go for a walk, be there. When you’re driving your car, be there. When you’re drinking coffee, be there. Don't be physically present but mentally absent. Always thinking. Always spiralling on "what's next". These little things are not little. They are your life. A quiet morning. The smell of coffee. The cool breeze through the window. Birds chirping. Pay attention. Because life happens in the ordinary moments we keep rushing past. Be there...
Live slower. Take walks with no destination. Try things you’re not good at. Sit with a book until you drift off. Life isn’t just for achievement. It’s for the ordinary moments that make it worth living.
Anonymous
I work the night desk at a rundown motel. $39 a night. Cash only.
Man checked in at midnight. Paid for one night. Looked exhausted.
Next morning found him in the parking lot. Sitting in his truck. Engine running. Hose from the exhaust.
I ran. Ripped the door open. Pulled him out.
He fought me. “Let me go. I have nothing left.”
Called 911. Stayed with him until they came.
Paramedics took him. Psychiatric hold.
Found his room key in the parking lot. Went to his room.
Suicide note on the bed.
Addressed to his kids. He’d lost everything. Job. House. Family. Couldn’t see a way forward.
Visited him at the hospital every day. Brought food. Sat with him.
“Why do you care? You don’t even know me.”
“Because you’re here. And that means something.”
Two weeks later, he got out. Had nowhere to go.
Gave him a job. Night maintenance at the motel. Let him stay in a room.
Six months later, he was managing the place. I’d trained him. Trusted him.
Three years later, he bought the motel from me.
I was retiring anyway.
Last week, drove by. Sign out front: “Second Chance Inn.”
He’d repainted. Fixed it up. Made it nice.
Called me. “Half the rooms are permanent housing. For people like I was. People who need somewhere to start over.”
He’s housed forty-seven people in two years.
Suicide hotline number on every room phone.
“Because a night clerk grabbed me out of a truck and refused to let me disappear.”
Something I’ve had to relearn again and again: Nothing changes if nothing changes. The new life you want doesn’t magically appear. It’s built through ruthless action. New habits. New mindsets. New standards. New boundaries. Reinvention has a cost of entry. Pay it with pride.
The sun was free. They sold you SPF 50 and a vitamin D deficiency.
Sleep was free. They sold you an app, a pill, and a wearable that tells you your sleep was bad.
Walking was free. They sold you a treadmill, a fitness tracker, and a £180 pair of trainers.
Fasting was free. They sold you meal replacement shakes and the anxiety that skipping breakfast would wreck your metabolism.
Cold water was free. They sold you a £3,000 plunge barrel and a podcast episode about it.
Silence was free. They sold you a meditation app with a premium tier.
Animal fat was cheap. They sold you seed oils, then supplements to replace what the animal fat contained.
Tallow was cheap. They sold you a seventeen-step skincare routine and a clinical trial proving your face needs ceramides.
Meat was cheap. They are currently selling you the idea that you shouldn't eat it.
The 20th century removed access to everything the body needs to function.
The 21st century is selling it back, one subscription at a time.
Your great-grandmother had none of the products.
She had all of the things.
A rule that will lower your anxiety: Don’t replay conversations you can’t change, and don’t pre-live ones that haven’t happened. Focus on the next right action. Most stress comes from living everywhere except the present.
At the end of the day, it’s just you and your quiet little life. So go on, read the books you enjoy, go outside for a walk or run, drink some good coffee, be the person you want to be.
I want the kind of money that lets me show up for my people. Even if I can’t fix everything, i want to at least soften the moment. To send food. To send transport fare. To send ice-cream money on a hard day.
I’m tired of only saying “sorry.”