A note to my younger self: stay stubborn, stay strange, and write it all down. You’ll need it more than you think.
Sunday’s adventure? Spelunking my own notes. Wandering deep, finding hidden connections, surfacing with insights I didn’t expect.
Some temptations shout. Others barely murmur. Either way, the real work is noticing them — and choosing whether to lean in or let them pass.
We search for “the way.” The secret system, the perfect method. But the only one that matters? Your way. Built from practice, not theory.
For me, the hunt isn’t for clarity wrapped in a bow. It’s for tiny scraps that quietly change everything.
It’s not the big blowups that get me. It’s the tiny snags—the little “oh crap” moments that quietly tug until the whole day starts to unravel.
Tiny logs, tiny reps. Proof you showed up today, in whatever shape it took.
Came home yesterday. Travel-tired, straight to the couch. Home isn’t just where we stay—it’s the spaces, the stuff, the little corners we make ours.
Soft skills don’t show up in Jira or sprint demos. But they shape how teams move, how trust builds, and whether the work actually sticks.
Humility is refusing to inflate yourself—again and again. Trusting that effort will speak louder than ego ever could.
Funny thing about pointing: it looks silly, but it works. A flick of the hand or a chin tilt can cut through the fog faster than a paragraph ever could.
The work isn’t about outdoing your best. It’s about showing up, writing through doubt, and stacking small steps until they become something bigger.
Decisions aren’t clean. They’re messy. A conversation between your head, heart, gut, and hands. They collide, they argue. And when the moment comes, it’s always the same: a leap of faith.
Every rabbit hole has a lesson. Get lost in one long enough, and you’ll stumble into the spark that makes the whole thing worthwhile.
Noise is everywhere—loud, constant, relentless. The skill isn’t escaping it. It’s tuning in, tuning out, and learning to amplify what truly matters.