Life was moving right along.
Great job.
Great marriage.
Great friends.
Great kids. Even a brand-new granddaughter.
My cup was full, but I felt empty. My job had become my identity. Seemingly out of nowhere, I stopped giving time to the people who mattered most. I wasn’t reading. I wasn’t writing. I wasn’t learning.
That’s when I found myself staring at a fork in the road.
Keep coasting.
Keep doom-scrolling.
Keep pretending everything was fine.
Keep giving less than my best.
Or…
Make massive changes.
Rediscover fun.
Connect and reconnect with people.
Break some habits and start new ones.
Dig deep and find my spark.
So, I did.
I left my job. I spent time alone. I wiped the slate clean and started again, rediscovering the things I used to love: walking with my wife. Shooting hoops. Picking up pickleball (yeah I’m one of those now). Getting back on the radio, listening to people’s stories.
And I rested—really rested.
What’s amazing is how people began to show up for me.
My wife. My daughters. My son-in-law. Friends. Former classmates. Three former bosses and a bunch of co-workers. Even complete strangers I met on LinkedIn.
You should see my inbox. One afternoon, exhausted from mowing the lawn in 98-degree heat, I sat down on the porch, checked my phone…and broke down in tears.
The kindness.
The offers to connect.
The freelance work I’ve been trusted with.
It’s overwhelming. And it’s given me space to start paving my next road. To draw closer to God. To be more present in my marriage. To show up as the dad and son my family needs and deserves. And to carve out the kind of grandpa I want to be.
It’s raw.
It’s new.
It’s uncomfortable.
It comes with heartbreaking endings and awkward new beginnings.
I wake up in this new world and I’m building something meaningful. I’m putting God first. Family, friends, real connection, and work that matters. Less acting, more vulnerability. Less fear, more joy. Less doubt, more boldness.
David Bowie once said, “Aging is nothing more than becoming the person you were before the world got its hands on you.” This has become my mantra for the rest of my life.
So here I am, traveling down this new road. Destination: change.
Seemingly out of nowhere.
