The 4th of 2025

Tough this year. Kind of the definition of ambivalent.

I’m proud, in many ways, to be American. But today I am also ashamed, disheartened… and scared.

It’s not meant to be hyperbole. At this very moment, there are (for lack of a better term… how do we even label?) secret police rounding up people in the streets. Congress, the (supposedly) most powerful group of people in the country, has just passed legislation that a vast majority of Americans are against.

But today we’re celebrating democracy right? An indignation against solitary rule, a denouncement against despots with unilateral control. 

Here’s what I’m proud of: in my experience in this country, most Americans are genuine, kind-hearted people. Most uphold righteous values of freedom, self-belief, and friendship. It’s not hard to make friends in this country, whether the big cities or the remote countryside.

I’m proud to be American because I believe most Americans are good genuine people. Americans have passed on a tradition of goodness and greatness through the generations.

Not to say every American that’s ever been is enlightened. We currently have racists and fascists and those who wish to burn the world down among us. And our history can never be erased or commuted, a history rampant with hatred and indifference.

But I like to believe that most of the 330 million of us are not a part of that. That the goodness, the good things, have transcended any evil inherited from the past.

I believe most present-day Americans are good people. They want to contribute to a better America and a better wold.

But that’s a call to action. It’s time for Americans to act, to decry the greed and callousness infested in our government. It’s time for true patriotism. It’s time for us to rise together and craft one big beautiful amazing country.

One country, for all of us. Despite and due to its vastness and diversity. With and for all its beauty. 

I pledge my allegiance to the dream of America. So far we have not lived up to the dream. There are nightmares in our wake and the present. Can we start now?

Grand Education

Two days later and I might be only amazed with my daughter.

Hard to believe after witnessing the stunning scenery of Grand Teton National Park.

But it doesn’t compare. I’ve wondered, on this trip, if we’re setting up our 18 week old for bemusement: is the Earth always this volcanic, this dramatic, and full of such strange creatures?

No, I told her tonight at dusk, as the wind rolled through violently and quickly as we watched the trees blow. Pacha Mama gives us more than this. We walk this planet of wonder with privilege. She gives us everything, and it’s best for us to be appreciative.

On this trip, in one of America’s wildest, most surreal places, my daughter is gaining an education.

It is one I’m still receiving, one our species needs to keep seeking. We are a part, one small part, of this glorious planet ecosystem.

Grand Teton will show that to you.

Magnificent Yellowstone

I feel far removed from the fervor of Friday, and I see that as a good thing. Despite the crowds, of which I contribute to, I feel immersed in a foreign land.

I’ve joked to our family that our daughter will have a completely warped sense of the Earth. No dear child, most of the planet’s surface is not covered in volcanic activity, with bison and elk and bears roaming around. This is a special place indeed.

It’s felt so special that I’ve been reluctant to try to capture and summarize my sensations throughout each day here. Simply put, there’s nowhere else on Earth like it.

If we can give in to the natural beauty afforded to us on this planet, if we can let go and see just a little bit further to the horizon… There are no naysayers here, at the pinnacle of national parks, some of the last protected spaces. Tourists and sunscreen diehards like myself can’t preclude any other reaction but awe.

A Wild World

Yellowstone was the world’s first national park, opening in 1872. You can see why this is the place that started it all.

I often felt on another planet today. The geothermal activity, and all its visible features, makes one feel as though they’re embarking on a Martian journey. The color of the springs is spellbinding. You look out into the distance and see jets of steam everywhere, or if the timing is right, huge spouts of sporadic hot water.

There have been two bison hanging around the Old Faithful Inn the past two days. One has ironically posted up near the “DANGER WILDLIFE” sign, the other in the center of the main meadow right out front. These enormous animals have served as poster guides for all the tourists visiting.

There’s a lot of car time in the National Parks. I love looking out the window searching for wildlife, appreciating the beauty of the trees, streams and grasslands. The meandering rivers are absolutely picturesque, the epitome of America’s beauty and a far cry from the Martian landscape of Upper Geyser Basin. Even modern humans are drawn to the vistas, the open space, and the wildness of it all.

My daughter is too young to understand it, but I’m glad we’re showing her this magnificent place. I hope it will build a lifelong fascination with nature, the most powerful aspect of our planet. We are one with it, all the time. Even amongst the crowds of the national parks.

First Father’s Day

I kinda felt like Dorothy on Father’s Day.

We’re not in Kansas anymore Toto.

Many friends texted me for the specialness of the day, and I wasn’t expecting any of it.

We rode up and down a small plane to big sky country in Wyoming, and it was new for all of us as a family.

I felt proud to be American today. The national parks are beautiful, spectacular, and should be shared. Bison and bear and geyser today, all as a typical tourist, with little effort.

I want to contribute to a spur of effort for our wild places, for a recognized one world for all people, for a land with bison and bears.

Just like in the novel, we can land this cyclone. We can be free, and joyous and here.

We can be. If we recognize we’re not anywhere else.

Patriotic Euphoria

I upheld my duty as a father today. Coincidentally, I also feel I acted as a patriot.

“The liberties of our country, the freedom of our civil constitution, are worth defending against all hazards; And it is our duty to defend them against all attacks.”

— Samuel Adams

I was honored to attend the No Kings protest with my father-in-law

I was never up on the No Kings protest until the past 48 hours or so. In my local neighborhood, the protest lined 7 miles of El Camino Real, from Palo Alto to Sunnyvale. 

I was impressed and proud of the turnout, of the spirit of my fellow citizens. People of all creeds proclaimed their anger and dissatisfaction with the government. 

This is our right, this is our duty.

After a day of civic duty, it’s easy to retreat into comfort and reticence. That is not the path to change. We own this moment, as a people, standing as one, to demand a better country, a better democracy, and a better world. Keep fighting for One World.

Organize. Take Action. For Country and Children.

I’ve been arrested before. It’s scary and humiliating. I know what it feels like.

What’s happening in Los Angeles is not that.

When you’re arrested, you are detained by a uniformed police officer with a badge (and hopefully a body-worn camera). You are informed of the charges against you and the reason for being detained. Your rights are read to you. You are asked several questions upon being detained, which are used for the paperwork documenting the scene/circumstances and your arrest. The police officer notifies the police force that (s)he’s “bringing you in.”

Upon arrival, your identity is confirmed, your picture taken, and more paperwork is filed. This paper trail is public access. It’s all very official, and in many ways tedious and mundane.

In Los Angeles, masked, unidentified men are detaining Americans. ICE personnel are not identifying themselves or answering questions. They appear to completely disregard procedure. People are literally being grabbed, handcuffed, forced into vehicles, and driven off to unknown locations. There are multiple videos taken by bystanders showing this. Current reporting like this has confirmed detainees face grim, inhumane conditions at holding facilities: a lack of food, water, sanitation and light.

I do not wish to fear monger.

But this is the antithesis of due process, a right guaranteed to all people, not just citizens. It is a violation of the U.S Constitution, specifically the Fourth and Fifth Amendments.

If we are to protect our Union, for all its flaws, we must do so now. I urge you to find the upcoming protests scheduled in your area and show yourself, to demand a change in policy and to proclaim your rights and the rights of all who live in this country.

Tomorrow I go to protest the actions of my government. I believe it is my duty as an American and as a father. I do not want my daughter to grow up in this country as it exists today.

To raise global consciousness, to unite humanity, and to inspire change… requires action. I will not stand by and do nothing.

Another World

The problem with ignoring the news: I don’t know all the facts about Los Angeles. But as I’ve ‘caught up’ a little bit over the past few days, I’ve noticed that there are very little facts; it’s mostly rhetoric.

I browsed some Reddit threads in the L.A. and relevant subs. Most of the comments are anecdotal.

I read a few articles in yesterday’s San Jose Mercury News (the delivery man will toss another paper up the stairs if they miss my neighbor’s door). There were figures regarding the troop deployments and statements from both sides about the ongoing legal proceedings—a little better. But by the time I read through the paper, that information was undoubtedly outdated, as this situation is escalating and changing rapidly.

I watched Gavin Newsom’s “major address to Californians” and found it to be mostly theater. He made a good point about the lack of due process with masked men disappearing people in the streets, but I was otherwise left wanting for more facts. What were the casualties and damages in L.A. from the initial protests, before the National Guard was deployed by Trump? What have the casualties and damages been since? Providing these simple details would validate his claims that the situation was “under control.”

I believe the protest and unrest in L.A. were mostly peaceful, that there was little violence or property damage. But how can I be sure?

Our national conversation around these events prove it’s difficult to know the truth, even if one follows the news. In today’s world, virality is the only thing that matters. It’s how our news creates revenue. Thus overreaction is the intended effect. Get on a team and root for your side while disparaging the opposite’s position.

All the while, these events have significant consequences and scary implications for the rule of law and former precedence.

It's alarming and disheartening. My only solace is the sentiment I have strived to maintain through the past decade or so, one that was encapsulated perfectly in a window I passed by on a walk last week: “another world is possible.”

As of this moment, Americans have the right, and the power, to choose the direction and path of our country. Every human alive has the capability to contribute to another world. A better world. Can we organize and rise up as one? For our shared values of love, health and freedom?

We won’t find inspiration from the news. It must come from ourselves. I pray it does. And I still believe.

A Dash of Salt

“Take this with a grain of salt.” It’s something I’ve eternally struggled with: how do you know which inputs to accept, and which to guard against?

Alex Hormozi offers 2 criteria:

1. Is this person aligned with me? Are they incentivized for me to be successful?

2. Does this person have domain-sufficient competence or expertise?

That’s all well and good when it comes to feedback in sports or business. But what about in life, in the philosophy of life? Maybe the point is you must be specific—you can’t simply contemplate reality in generalizations.

If seeking life advice, you can probably vet the adviser using the above criteria. Is it someone that genuinely hopes you live well? Do they seem to be enjoying a happy, fulfilling life themselves (even if it’s not the exact life you want)? A ‘yes’ to both those questions means less salt.

And then there’s intuition, which I still highly value. Maybe one day we’ll better understand it scientifically. The way I think of it now: we exist within this particle soup we call the universe, and are somehow connected to all of it. We are a part of it. We are it, and intuition is the feeling of our connection. l find it powerful, useful, and trustworthy. When you’re present and in a clear state, intuition is rarely wrong. If the criteria above fails, it’s safe to lean into intuition.

Without stress--that’s the final part. All the paths before us are merely options, and it’s fully within our power, and purpose, to choose. We may live with as much or as little salt as we like.

Thoughts from Truckee

We made great time, barely hitting any traffic. It felt a little foreboding to be honest, to miss so much of the crowds on a holiday weekend. One of the new rules is babies aren’t supposed to be in their car seat for more than 2 hours. So we stopped just outside Sacramento. The gas station was right off the freeway, and full of… colorful characters. I told my wife to lock the car while she nursed and I went to use the restroom, which the attendant had to buzz me in to use. Once we set off again, our baby girl definitely gave us the look of “really, you’re still keeping me in this thing?” We didn’t have to stop after that, arriving in Truckee, and the cabin, before sundown.

The cabin… it was surreal driving on 80 as we neared Truckee. I remembered various spots on the road, the lonely gas station, where Boreal was, the commercial train across the valley. I watched those things as we passed them by as a kid, riding in the back seat with my aunt and uncle. They were gracious enough to take me up to Tahoe often when I was growing up, both in the winter and in the summer. I made the familiar turn off the highway and headed up to their Tahoe Donner neighborhood. The turns came naturally, as if I could feel my way in return. We arrived. When I first saw it, I was hit with a wave of nostalgia. This cabin was a place of adventure for me as a youth, a place in which I felt comfortable and cared for, but still somewhere foreign, where I learned about harsh winters and the snow, life at elevation, and so much more.

I gained a lot of independence here. My aunt taught me to swim in the pool at my house, but she would take me to the community Northwoods Pool, and I was “off on my own,” with no friends but free to explore. I learned archery here in the summers, and did rock climbing trips with the local kids. And in the winter I learned how to snowboard, that surreal sensation of floating down the mountain on fresh powder. In many ways, it was here that I grew up and became independent, separate from my parents.

I unlocked the front door and faced the familiar mud room - it was here that I first learned what a ‘mud room’ was. The familiar dining table was just beyond, where I had many coming of age conversations with my uncle. I turned to the left to find a completely redone kitchen and living room. The cabinets and counters were brand new, and the sunken floor of the living room was gone, leveled off to the sliding glass door and large windows. It felt familiar yet strange.

…

Admiring the scenery at Donner Lake

People were very friendly, but I’m pretty sure most side-eyed us as I pushed the bassinet stroller along the trail. I guess no one takes little babies on hikes through the forest. 

But it was blissful. The excessive bumps and jiggles of the trail rocked our baby girl to sleep, and pushing the stroller gave me a better workout. I remember looking up and seeing the trail wind ahead, silhouetted by towering trees all around us… the snow dripped mountains resolute in the distance, with nothing but us and the sounds of the forest. 

We love nature. We belong in nature. Visiting Truckee has brought us to it again.

We’ve also been doing a digital detox while up at the cabin. We haven’t turned on the TV at all, and we’re staying off ‘the algorithmic internet,’ as Cal Newport calls it. For me, that means no Reddit, no ESPN, no social media. Resorting back to using our phones for only 5 things: calls, texts, photos, maps, and music.

I found this “cabin chill” playlist on Spotify and it’s been so relaxing and fitting. Soft slow sounds that seem to soak up the wooden walls and wooden beams high up on the ceiling. It helps fully transport us to this cabin retreat.

The cabin creaks and settles. It’s a different type of building, a different experience staying here. These little differences would be unnoticeable if we were plugged in.

I sat out on the deck with my baby girl near dusk while Mommy took a shower. It was incredibly peaceful to sit there with my daughter, listening to the sounds of the forest. She is fascinated by trees. I counted over 50 with her, just within our immediate field of view. We heard the birds and the squirrels, felt the wind gently pass through our glade. I felt the forest then, even the bears and the deer and the coyotes and cats, all the birds and owls and squirrels… you just know when you’re in a forest. It feels… enclosed and sheltered, but vast… immersive but connective. How wonderful we enjoy a world with forests.

…

Downtown Truckee on a beautiful May day

Happy Chill Morning mix for Spotify to start the day. I got to spend time with baby girl while we let Mommy sleep some more. Just us on Great Grandma’s quilt with the woods outside. It’s amazing how much she’s learned in 15 weeks. She now plays, with toys, with you. I love playing with her. 

Diced tomatoes and spinach and cheese in scrambled eggs over toast for breakfast, along with our trusty French Press once again. I guess we’re those kind of people now, bringing our fresh coffee beans and grinder and French press. Simple hearty breakfast with fresh hot coffee, just the three of us isolated in our mountain cabin. I want for nothing more.

I heard my daughter’s first laugh today. I was walking up the stairs, bringing diaper cream to Mommy who was changing her, when she started. Hastening up the final steps, I hurried to the edge of the bed where she was being changed, just giggling away at the wind from the open window blowing on her bare bottom. It lasted all of 15 seconds, and I cried. We shared the joyous moment together, just the three of us. I didn’t have my phone to take a picture or video, and I didn’t need it. It was a private moment just for us.

We did our first walk with baby girl facing outward in the carrier. It was just behind the cabin, in the trailway between the open backyards. I’d say maybe 25 minutes, a half a mile. But she liked it, and that was the measure of success. In a way I felt more a Dad than ever, shielding her face from the sun (hats are still strictly off limits for miss high maintenance), walking carefully over the trail, one hand under her bottom, one across her chest. It was a walk in the woods with a new family, and in some mystical sense, I felt it was a rite of passage. A modern generation living a life of convenience, but walking amongst the trees with baby in tow, like so many thousands of generations before…

…

Looking back at the ponds from Cold Stream Drive

She’s started to give us this look when we put her in the carseat, like “where now?” So much adventure for a new family of three over the past few days. Adventure for all of us, Mom and Dad trying to learn how to do all of it all over again with a baby now, and for baby girl herself, her first time for so many things… her first road trip, first bumpy rumbly hike, her first outward-facing walk in the woods, her first stay away from home… her first time at elevation, first time in a forest with the breeze ruffling her hair and sweet baby skin. First time in a foreign place for multiple days… “we’re still here?!” 

It’s been adaptation for all of us. Particularly baby girl, who we couldn’t have asked more from. But also for us, learning that she’s okay, that she can handle change and variation and less than ideal conditions. 

It’s also been listening to perfectly timed playlists, looking out the windows to the forest beyond, just soaking in the essence of the cabin. Up in the mountains, you don’t need TV or internet.  You need your connection to your tribe, which we’ve maintained these past few days, but there’s something about the reclusive lounging, the disappearing far away high up in the mountains, that’s suited us. It may be gone tomorrow, once we enter the hustle and bustle of the Bay Area. But that doesn’t mean there wasn’t something to learn up here, just the three of us, “hiding” away, learning and growing together as a family.

This was special. It’s been a reconnection to nature, to our roots of humanity, but also a journey. There’s only more learning ahead, based on all the learning that’s happened rapid-fire so far.

Truckee is beautiful. California is awesome—don’t let the media or Texans or anyone else tell you different. It’s amazing we have these mountains and lakes high up on the border, just here to enjoy and bask in their pristine glory. Keep Tahoe blue for sure. Visit nature. Explore. This is what makes us human, even with a baby in tow. Thank you Tahoe, thank you pacha mama, and thank you God, the universe, whatever we call this miracule we get to enjoy and explore.

Finding the Signal

Well the Golden State Warriors' season is over. I guess I'll have to find something else to do every other night. Replace it with reading? Because we don't want our daughter to be exposed to screens before two years old, we've been watching a lot less TV, and it's felt great. Trying to raise our child 'the right way' is also ensuring we are indeed living the right way.

I've also become much more selective with the podcasts I download. My queue is down to one last health episode, and I will heavily scrutinize any future episodes published by my subscribed shows.

Most of it is noise. I want to prioritize 'need to know' and 'just in time' information, as pertinent to my life circumstances. Most of my consumption is entertainment to stave off boredom.

When we escape that urge for dopamine release, we wake up and smell the flowers, sometimes literally. I still enjoy the sounds of nature amidst the early morning quiet on my balcony each day. The slower, simpler, deeper life isn't invigorating, but it's rewarding. It's peaceful. And it enables me to more conscientiously choose what to prioritize, how to spend my time.

It's clear, in this mode, that my family is most important to me right now, and always. I choose love, I choose time, and I choose health. And I believe we all consistently make that choice, once we cut down the noise.

When I'm Gone

I heard something recently about multigenerational goals… that if your goals can be accomplished within your lifetime they’re too small. It’s an interesting perspective.

I want TAV to be here when I’m gone. I want someone after me to showcase the wonder of our one world. I want the mission of raising global consciousness, uniting humanity, and inspiring change to continue.

I believe anyone and everyone on the planet can buy in to this mission. Because the Earth, and humanity, and the glory of the universe is worth dedicating generations toward. The wonder is utterly beautiful. I guess I just need to inspire someone to keep going.

Malaise Monday Motivation

Today felt like a malaise Monday. It rained in the South Bay, unusually cold and dreary for May, and there was a post Mother’s Day hangover in the air. But there were quiet moments I enjoyed: sitting on the floor with my daughter, having one of our “conversations,” watching the green leaves on the tree rustling in the wind outside. The sun eventually poked its way through the gloom. I got a good workout in, despite being tired from yesterday.

It’s not the first time I’ve told myself, “these are the good old days. These are the days I’ll look back on fondly, and wish I can return to when I’m old and worn down.” It can be difficult sometimes, but I try to appreciate and be grateful for the simple things on ordinary days. Appreciate getting a good lift in—one day I won’t be strong. Enjoy sitting on the floor talking with my daughter—one day she will be grown, and I’ll remember how cute and innocent she was as a baby. 

All of this is living. Sure I strive for adventure, seek it out regularly. We travel and learn about the world and its inhabitants. I’d like to build as much of that into my life as I can, because my heart yearns for it. But I also try to recognize the real living, the true living that occurs on a daily basis. Struggling for that last set in a workout. Feeling good about trying your best in all you did that day. And being present with your family. 

We can all do these things, and we all do… it’s our shared experience as humans. Plebeians of Ancient Rome worked through malaise Monday’s. Royals in 1600’s Europe dealt with them. It is the human condition. And I’m pretty certain, at the end of my life, whenever that may come, I’ll look back on a malaise Monday and wish I could return to it, for just five minutes, one more time. For living is the greatest gift, not to be squandered. 

To Mothers

I woke up early this morning to care for our daughter. A blowout and change of clothes later, she was back in bed with Mommy, and I went out to the living room to write.

For the first time, there are two letters to write this year. And it got me thinking, that Mother’s Day might perhaps be the most important holiday we celebrate. Every single human being who has ever walked this Earth has had a mother. Every person born was born to a mother, no matter their culture or gender or timeline. It is something all of humanity shares. And having recently witnessed the birth of my first child not too long ago, I can confidently say it’s nothing short of miraculous.

Women possess an ability that we should regularly rejoice. Without them, none of this would be possible. They are the foundation of our species, passing strength to each other through the generations. The two most important people in my life are mothers, and I’m eternally grateful for their sacrifice, their spirit, and their love.

To celebrating Mother’s Day, a most important holiday.

Summer in the Air

Do you feel the zest for life as it gets warmer in the Northern Hemisphere? The flowers are blooming, the bees are buzzing, and the activity is picking up. I relish my time out on my balcony each morning. There’s still a hint of coolness in the air, but there’s so much more light shining on the foliage, and the birds are in full song.

Playoff basketball is on, politics is fading from center stage, and the end of the school year is near. Families are gearing up for summer, for family trips and barbecues and pool days, for long hikes and dinners outside and the wild freeness of hot summer nights. As I’ve gotten older, it’s the anticipation before the season that I enjoy the most: late spring, before the summer begins, and mid-autumn. I guess sometimes it’s easier to look forward than to appreciate the gravity of it all in the moment, or just after.

But there’s more than hedonism in the air. We can embrace the throes of society as well as the ones of summer. There is much to be grateful for, and far more to improve. I wonder how we can organize our own Summer of Love, perhaps digitally. We all clamor for love and meaning, and we all share dissatisfaction with the way things are going. It is time for us to coalesce into a global consciousness, one that unites all of humanity and triumphs love. How will we use this summer?

Transient Peace for a Human Being

Consistency and discipline is the name of the game. Or put differently, there are very few rich people who didn’t work hard. And there aren’t any successful ones. To be satisfied you have to put in the work, make it through the struggle. I once heard Brendon Burchard say at a conference, “you have to embrace the struggle.” It’s also known as ‘embrace the suck’ by former military personnel. Right now I’m reading “Flow” by Mihály Csíkszentmihályi and the message seems similar. When we devote our whole selves to something difficult, we dissociate our ego, at least transiently. We are the universe contributing. We are the universe organizing itself. 

We all die. Our purpose may simply be to serve as a vessel for our genes, to pass them on to the next generation before our fragile bodies become dust. But in that moment of spark, in our lifetime of light, we can move. We can dance with the other molecules in this particle soup, and influence and change them, and disappear amongst all the other atoms and cells.

I feel at peace when I’m writing, or observing my surroundings and taking photos in silence, or when deeply absorbed in an interesting conversation with an interesting person. It’s not a euphoric feeling, but a calming, a quieting of all the noise, a simple experience of being.

And it’s so hard to get there most days. My brain tricks itself into reading the news or checking email or tidying up the living room. After all, I should be a good husband and father, and do those dishes and fold that laundry—right? Anything to maintain the monkey maze mind. That’s where the struggle and suck come in. We have to tolerate it in order to start. We have to resist the more, the distraction, the pleasure. Because the experiencing peace vastly outweighs any guilty pleasures.

We all fight this battle, whether we are Jeff Bezos or the poorest child in Pakistan. Despite the rife inequality in the world, there are some things all humans share. The same basic wants and needs. The same existential fear and dread of death and the beyond. The same wonder about our place in the universe. The same questions about meaning. And the silent battle of accepting less in the moment in order to achieve that ever elusive peace.

We all share these afflictions and desires. We all share the same purpose. How incredible, and how beautiful that can be.

Nature Walks

When I was a high school freshman, I went on a hike with a friend and his dad. He told me to bring headphones (back in the day when you'd lug around an actual CD player if you can believe it). I found it incredibly weird, the three of us walking in the woods silently, each listening to music instead of fully immersing ourselves in nature. I didn't hike with them anymore after that.

And yet today, I'm constantly plugged in to either podcasts or music.

I went for a walk yesterday without headphones for the first time in a long time. It was liberating. I listened to the birds chirping and noticed the different types of trees I passed by. My thoughts were recursive at first, my brain grasping at ways to stay busy. But eventually I was able to simply enjoy the walk for what it was: a stroll through nature.

How often do any of us do that anymore? This basic act was a staple in humanity's daily routine for hundreds of thousands of years, and yet today many of us never walk with nature. I live in the concrete jungle, like an increasing number of humans today. What if a big part of the solution to our problems was just to get out in nature more? No notifications, no human-made sound, just you (and maybe a companion) and the trail.

We didn't grow up in such crowded, concrete conditions as a species. Maybe the cure for our rising animosity is to ditch the CD player and just take the walk. We can still learn from Mother Earth.

Simple Family Life

I told my wife last night how simple life is. Find the love of your life, spend as much of your time on this Earth as you can with them. Have children with that person, and fully embrace the expansion of love you’ll feel for your family. Love them every day, and be happy.

It really does feel that simple as a new Dad. I know I write about purpose and calling and how to contribute to the universe often, but the most powerful way a lot of us can contribute is by raising open, kind, loving families. And simple isn’t easy. But when I’m holding my daughter at night before bed, when I sit and appreciate the undistracted moments with just us as a family, simple can be as easy as letting go.

Maybe if we all let go of what we’re holding more often, and we instead stay present with our families, we can indirectly contribute to a better world. Our children’s futures depend on it.

Earth Day 2025

I was Snow White out on my balcony this morning, making friends with the birds and squirrels. It’s incredibly peaceful to stand out there in the quiet early morning, hearing nothing but the sounds of nature. It’s almost as if I was in Yosemite. I think it’s something I want to make a regular habit this summer.

I love my daughter so much, and I treasure her and want the best for her in life. I’ve written previously how we all want that for our children. And then I thought, in a way, the Earth is sort of like our child. The Earth is how we live for our biological children. It is our Mother Earth, what enabled us to enter the universe, and what allows us to have children to live their own lives when we’re gone. It is where we all live out our entire lives. It is what we bequeath to future generations. How will we care for it? What will we leave them?

I hope to establish Earth Day as a legitimate holiday with my daughter. As a day to celebrate, for we are here together on this wondrous planet, having life because of it. Our Earth is the most fantastical thing we know of in this universe. We should celebrate it, and take care of it.

Bassinet Smiles

I reached into my daughter's bassinet this morning and a beautiful smiling baby looked up at me. It melted my heart like it always does. After a few rough days post Rotavirus vaccine, it was reassuring to feel like I was getting my daughter back.

Parents want nothing more than their children to be happy and healthy. I figured as much, but it becomes so obvious when you become a father. I would do anything for my daughter’s health and wellbeing, make any sacrifice for her happiness.

What if that was our starting point on this planet? There are billions of parents around the world, and we all want the same things for our children. Does it have to be a zero-sum game? Can we prioritize the health, safety and wellbeing of our billions of children over everything else, and does that change the equation?

It seems everyone could subscribe to such a simple belief. That it could make our time together in this life a whole lot easier. We all want the same things. Can we unite around them?