Man, I feel this. The grief. I was university lecturer for a good stretch, not high school--you did the real work, and thank you for your service, sir! But the grief I definitely feel. The crawling back from what *all this* was going to be and what it just...is. I think it's a big Gen X(ish) stumbling block, for sure. We saw them 90s. We thought the road went on forever. But that's just not how life works, in any era. Thanks for your words, man. Onward we go.
It's fascinating how much time I've spent reflecting on how I read your writing rather than just the content itself. I'm a reader at heart—non-fiction is my go-to, particularly self-help books. As a lifelong learner, reading usually puts me in a specific zone. My eyes scan each letter, my brain processes and stores the information, and then I move on.
But when I read your work—and Mel Robbins' too—it's a completely different experience. My reading isn't as smooth or linear. I get through a sentence or two, and suddenly, my mind is off on a tangent, exploring thoughts that stir up vulnerability. Then I refocus on the text, only to be drawn into another web of connections, deeper reflections, and processing far beyond what I typically experience.
I truly appreciate this. Your writing resonates with me on multiple levels—touching on my past, my present, and my aspirations for the future. It helps me engage with my anxiety in a way that's not just tolerable but transformative. Your words offer a space for growth, insight, and a unique connection that feels both personal and profound.
Side note - You've inspired me to get back to writing more on a personal level. I haven't done this since my kids were babies. I miss it and had so many excuses as to why I didn't have time. No audience. Just to clear my brain, "talk through" ideas, and make sense of this crazy world we live in...little by little.
Kaitlyn - Did you just lump me together with Mel Robbins??! That is high praise, as I react to her words much the same as you. You are way too kind, but I will say thank you and work hard to accept the compliment.
Meanwhile, your words capture exactly what I hope to create with Beyond Our Walls: a space where readers don’t just consume ideas but feel invited to pause, reflect, and connect those ideas to their own lives. It’s humbling to know that my writing resonates with you in this way, and I am thankful you took the time to share here.
And that side note? It’s the best kind of compliment. The fact that you are inspired to return to writing for yourself is so incredibly meaningful. Writing can be such a powerful tool for processing the complexities of life, and it doesn’t need an audience to be valuable. Little by little is exactly how it starts, and I have no doubt you’ll rediscover the joy and clarity it can bring.
There is so much grief in the world. It can be shattering when the truth of situation cuts through like a knife. And yet Tutu and the Dali Lama say: “acceptance is the only place from which change can begin.” It is a grief to accept a situation as it is…and not as we would wish it. But as you say, it is in honoring that grief that we find the capacity and courage to change what we can. And the change starts with us.
Thank you for this beautifully reflective comment, Sue. I think you’re absolutely right—grief often feels like a barrier, but acceptance can turn it into a bridge. That quote from Tutu and the Dalai Lama is powerful. It reminds me that while the world doesn’t always match our hopes. Honoring grief isn’t just about feeling it—it’s about allowing it to move us toward something new, something better. I’m so grateful you shared this perspective—it’s such an important reminder for all of us. Thank you.
Man, I feel this. The grief. I was university lecturer for a good stretch, not high school--you did the real work, and thank you for your service, sir! But the grief I definitely feel. The crawling back from what *all this* was going to be and what it just...is. I think it's a big Gen X(ish) stumbling block, for sure. We saw them 90s. We thought the road went on forever. But that's just not how life works, in any era. Thanks for your words, man. Onward we go.
As a former coach & educator I can certainly relate to this grief you are describing Tim. Keep fighting the good fight my friend.
Thank you-It really is universal.
It's fascinating how much time I've spent reflecting on how I read your writing rather than just the content itself. I'm a reader at heart—non-fiction is my go-to, particularly self-help books. As a lifelong learner, reading usually puts me in a specific zone. My eyes scan each letter, my brain processes and stores the information, and then I move on.
But when I read your work—and Mel Robbins' too—it's a completely different experience. My reading isn't as smooth or linear. I get through a sentence or two, and suddenly, my mind is off on a tangent, exploring thoughts that stir up vulnerability. Then I refocus on the text, only to be drawn into another web of connections, deeper reflections, and processing far beyond what I typically experience.
I truly appreciate this. Your writing resonates with me on multiple levels—touching on my past, my present, and my aspirations for the future. It helps me engage with my anxiety in a way that's not just tolerable but transformative. Your words offer a space for growth, insight, and a unique connection that feels both personal and profound.
Side note - You've inspired me to get back to writing more on a personal level. I haven't done this since my kids were babies. I miss it and had so many excuses as to why I didn't have time. No audience. Just to clear my brain, "talk through" ideas, and make sense of this crazy world we live in...little by little.
Kaitlyn - Did you just lump me together with Mel Robbins??! That is high praise, as I react to her words much the same as you. You are way too kind, but I will say thank you and work hard to accept the compliment.
Meanwhile, your words capture exactly what I hope to create with Beyond Our Walls: a space where readers don’t just consume ideas but feel invited to pause, reflect, and connect those ideas to their own lives. It’s humbling to know that my writing resonates with you in this way, and I am thankful you took the time to share here.
And that side note? It’s the best kind of compliment. The fact that you are inspired to return to writing for yourself is so incredibly meaningful. Writing can be such a powerful tool for processing the complexities of life, and it doesn’t need an audience to be valuable. Little by little is exactly how it starts, and I have no doubt you’ll rediscover the joy and clarity it can bring.
There is so much grief in the world. It can be shattering when the truth of situation cuts through like a knife. And yet Tutu and the Dali Lama say: “acceptance is the only place from which change can begin.” It is a grief to accept a situation as it is…and not as we would wish it. But as you say, it is in honoring that grief that we find the capacity and courage to change what we can. And the change starts with us.
Thank you for this beautifully reflective comment, Sue. I think you’re absolutely right—grief often feels like a barrier, but acceptance can turn it into a bridge. That quote from Tutu and the Dalai Lama is powerful. It reminds me that while the world doesn’t always match our hopes. Honoring grief isn’t just about feeling it—it’s about allowing it to move us toward something new, something better. I’m so grateful you shared this perspective—it’s such an important reminder for all of us. Thank you.