The Majesty of Being Alive

Tag: living

  • On renewal

    What was the best promise you ever made to yourself, and was it actually a New Year’s resolution?

    It’s so easy to get sucked into this tradition of making an extreme commitment to changing your life. I’ve given myself resolutions that bordered impossibility in the past and had the audacity to be *shocked* when I couldn’t follow through. There are some folks that can set incredible goals for themselves and then achieve those goals, and I think those people are titans among mortals. They break the mold of humanity and inspire the masses to strive for more.

    I am not a titan. I am unbelievably mortal. I crushed my toes when I was walking out of the bedroom this morning because I didn’t see my walking pad buried under some sheets and blankets. I then hit those same toes again a couple of hours later walking through the living room, this time against the corner of my daughter’s play pen. Those poor little piggies do not belong to a titan. They belong to a clumsy dad who just wants to feel a little more energized, like he did when he was in his twenties.

    That said, this mortal man gave himself a few resolutions to get to a better place.

    I’m committing to reading in a more meaningful way than I have in the past. I used to be obsessed with the number of books I could knock out in a year (and the number was never particularly impressive, for you avid bookworms out there). A few years ago I was so excited when I read 36 books. Today, I can only tell you a bit about 10 of those books. I realized that (apologies in advance for the incoming cringe) I’m reading to fill a chart instead of reading to fill my heart. It’s silly, but it’s true. I want to read things that truly intrigue me and that I expect to find fulfilling. I also read a variety of genres, so I want to get high-quality reads in those realms. My biggest goals this year are Demon Copperhead (which I’m currently reading), James, The Lord of the Rings, and a good nonfiction read.

    I’m committing to movement and healthier choices. That’s vague because I’ve given myself specific weight loss goals in the past and couldn’t stick to the plans. Now, I’m thinking about it in terms of my energy; I am committed to being more active and making better choices about what I eat so that I have more energy to spend time with my family. This felt like a goal I could point to for encouragement when I’m thinking about being sedentary for another 5 hours.

    I’m committing to setting firm boundaries between work and my personal life. This is extraordinarily difficult to do, because I’m dedicating my professional self to being successful so that I can earn a promotion by 2026. However, I have been a child of a parent who obsesses over work at the cost of quality time, and it’s not worth it. I want to spend time with my partner and daughter making memories. I got really good at this when my daughter was born, and I’ll talk about how she changed my entire life in greater detail some time, but I want to continue to be accountable with this commitment.

    I’m committing myself to this website. I have always loved to write but could never build the discipline and commitment to writing consistently, let alone putting that writing out there on the internet for the world to scrutinize. But as stressful as it can be to put yourself out into the world like that, regret is so much worse. So, I’m going to continue writing and sharing these reflections in 2025.

    More importantly, I’m committed to giving myself grace. We can put together the most thought-out, structured plan that considers every contingency in our heads, but life (or fate, or God, or whatever you believe in) usually isn’t privy to your plans. So, be prepared to pivot and accept that sometimes, things change. Sometimes, you can’t get out to the gym, or read that book, or write that next post you really wanted to. In those moments, it will be easy to feel like you’re failing, and that can be frustrating. Breathe. This isn’t failure. It’s life.

    First comes life, then comes living.

    These aren’t the best promises I’ve ever made to myself. Those came at critical moments in my life, highs and lows. The holiday shouldn’t be about making insane promises. Rather, it’s about remembering, reflecting, renewing, and renovating. I am still me, with all of my flaws and blemishes. I remember the good, the bad, and the beautiful. I reflect on these things with others to celebrate, or understand, or to simply accept. I renew my commitments to things I felt good doing. I renovate by committing to change habits or behaviors in an effort to keep feeling good.

    And above all else, I rely on my commitment to giving myself grace.

  • Existence is a sublime expedition.

    Photo by Luis Quintero on Pexels.com

    When I hit my thirties, I had cautious optimism about the future. I meandered through my youth and twenties; shortcuts led to traps and scenic routes took me far off the path, until I felt lost and defeated. There were moments where I wondered what the point of all of this was. Am I just here to take up space? Am I an extra in someone else’s story? I was disconnected from my family, my identity, and my passions.

    Two years ago, things changed. I recognized that I let myself become a passenger on my own journey, and, thanks to an incredible support system, regained control. I fell in love with my soon-to-be wife. We made incredible memories, and then got life-changing news: we were pregnant. My entire world flipped and I had no idea what was going to happen next. The next nine months involved various shifts in my behavior and priorities. I got closer to my mother, who was over the moon about becoming a grandma. I felt an overwhelming need to protect my fiancee. I read books about fatherhood and met with other dads to get their advice. I reconnected with my cousin and became close with a newer group of friends. I found a stronger passion for my work and achieving a level of comfortable income that could provide for my family. There was an anticipation growing inside of me that I couldn’t describe when I thought about the impending birth of my first child.

    And then, she arrived.

    The moment my daughter was born, everything clicked. I saw her entire life, and I saw mine. I felt every emotion I would experience in my existence-past, present, and future, all at once. The world stopped and I saw it for all of its imperfection and beauty, and I knew how I fit in. I’m not here to take up space. I’m here for my fiancee. I’m here for my daughter. I’m here for myself. My story is their story; their story is our story; our story is your story.

    She’s a year old, and that year was both difficult and rewarding. I learned so much about myself, my partner, our relationship, my family, my interests, my culture, and how it all shapes my identity. Nothing is perfect. Some days, I’m on top of the world. Some days, I’m in the trenches. Most days, things are good.

    Recently, I wanted to reconnect with one of my passions: writing. I have loved writing and storytelling since I was a kid. I love the power it has to entertain, teach, and help me to reflect. The problem is that I never know what it is I want to write about. I get so lost in my head that I don’t know what it is I want to say. I end up feeling like an old ship at sea in the dead of night, clouds blocking the light from the moon and stars, unsure of where I can navigate to next. That can be painful to push through, but then I think about how dark things used to be, and then I remember:

    Every moment, challenge, decision, and action, brought us all to this place in life. Good, bad, calm, and chaos. And it is majestic.

    I hope this blog helps me to remember that, especially when things get hard. That’s ultimately what this is about: reflecting on my experiences and interests to understand my identity and continue to establish my place in the world.

    I hope this helps others find their way, too.