For The Creatives Fine-Tuning Their Signals and Silencing The Doubt
A letter to the ones tuning in again, finding clarity in the chaos, and remembering who they really are.
Sometimes, the rhythm of life drowns out the rhythm of our hearts—but not forever.
I loved writing poetry when I was a kid, all the way into my teens. I don’t remember when I developed a passion for it, but it was strong. Unrelenting.
I had rhymes pouring out of my head that I couldn’t write down in my notepads fast enough. And I had a lot of notepads. You know the ones with the white and black stripes over the cover – the Mead Composition Book.
If you’re serious about growing with strategy, not guesswork, now’s the time.
→ Unlock everything for $24/year. Launch pricing ends soon.
I would finish filling one, and continue writing in the next. Stacks of them built over the years.
And then I graduated highschool and real life began. The first few times I moved, I made a point of bringing them all with me. As life sped up, my writing slowed down.
As adult responsibilities took up space in my mind and priorities were rearranged, the rhymes seemed to slow down. They showed up less frequently, and they seemed to carry less weight. Not as much emotion. Dull, if you will.
Eventually…
I just… stopped writing.
I don’t know when that happened, exactly.
Maybe it was when I moved off completely on my own on a business adventure that put significant distance between me and my immediate family.
Maybe it was when I got married and my attention became consumed by the one I love.
Or when I had my first kid and the responsibilities of being a dad for the first time controlled every moment of my day–and night.
Or was it when I had my second kid, and was juggling the responsibilities of an infant and a toddler at the same time, as well as a full-time job, marriage, and my other hobbies and passions that seemed easier to focus on than writing when…
The rhymes and rhythm of life had silenced the rhythm and rhymes in my head.
Don’t get me wrong–
Simultaneously there were beautiful rhythms and rhymes in my heart. It was overflowing, but for entirely different reasons. My life was full of joy and happiness. I had a beautiful wife and kids, and moments of clarity of what life was truly about.
But my mind had stopped taking note of those moments and putting them into words.
I felt them, but I didn’t write them.
Years later, my career had taken me on an unexpected path into an unexpected field in unexpected ways.
But this time, it was different.
My words weren’t derived from inspiration.
Writing was a significant part of my new role, and yet… the words weren’t there.
My rhythm was off.
I suddenly noticed the silence… Where had the rhymes gone?
Now my mind started racing. I panicked. Tight, shallow breath, tension.
Who even was I? How had this happened? What had I become?
Oh–it was clear what I had become. I just didn’t accept it. I couldn’t… accept it.
Rather than take life by the horns, I had allowed life to consume me.
The responsibilities, the fears, the doubt, the discontentment. Things I’d never struggled with as a child or as a teen, but now? Oh, now they were in control.
I had a family who needed a roof over their head.
I had kids who depended on me for their very survival.
I had a wife who loved me, and wanted me to be successful – but what if…. what if I failed?
What if I couldn’t meet any of these expectations… what if I was a failure…
Suddenly, I snapped out of it.
This isn’t me. This isn’t how I operate. These thoughts will not control me, this doubt will not hold me down, my fear of failure will be the fire that burns uncontrollably, fueling my momentum to achieve the unachievable and take life by its horns.
One foot will be placed in front of the other, one letter will be written just before the next, each rung of the ladder will be the one I step on until I reach the top.
Because when I look back at who I was ten years ago, the silence in my head wasn’t because I lost my edge.
It wasn’t because I lost my passion.
It wasn’t because I had become dead inside.
It wasn’t because the responsibilities of life had taken over, or fear had drowned out my dreams, it was because I had become focused on what mattered in that moment.
The responsibilities of life built into a crescendo with new cities, a new marriage, newborn kids, new jobs and an entirely new and unexpected career.
This is how life works.
And the mind can only focus on so much.
So I became focused.
But as the marriage grows, and the kids get old, the relationships deepen. As I gain experience and first-hand knowledge, insights and a clearer understanding of who I am and who I want to be, my future becomes brighter.
That wasn’t fear I felt before. That was uncertainty.
Those weren’t responsibilities I had to my wife or my kids. That was a privilege.
That wasn’t just a job working with those people. That was an honor.
Suddenly, I understood.
Life goes in cycles. It feels like patterns, but it’s not. It’s cycles. And each cycle is different from the next.
Sometimes we leap forward. Sometimes we take a step back. Sometimes we hop to the left or to the right. Sometimes we run into a brick wall.
And then we pick up a sledgehammer and we smash it to the ground.
Each step of the way, we’re learning new things, picking up new skills, meeting new people, and building new relationships.
And as we do, we keep circling back to a place of familiarity. A place where the rhythm is building, where the static dies down and we can hear clearly. A place where the mind is calm.
It’s here where we are building our own signal.
Our own clarity.
Our own message we want to share.
Built from our experiences.
Our failures.
Our fears.
Our struggles.
Our convictions.
Our passions.
Our desires.
Our hopes.
Our dreams.
And every time we return to that place and do the difficult work… the signal is building. It grows stronger. It drowns out the voices of self doubt, fear, anxiety, and failure.
So today… return to that place of familiarity.
Focus on what matters and leave everything else outside the door as you enter the studio of your mind.
And build your signal.
Here’s a song I wrote, inspired by how my wife and I met at a bus stop (lyrics written by me, melody/voice by AI at Mureka.ai). Oddly enough, I would never have met her at a bus stop if my car had not been repossessed a few months prior during the fallout of the 2008-2009 depression when money was tight and jobs were few and far between. Funny how life works.
Do you have an example of unusual events in your life that ultimately resulted in a blessing?
Lyrics:
[Intro] A soft rain falls, neon in the night,
Hearts unknown, waiting for the light.
[Verse] At the bus stop corner, under city skies,
You stood there quiet, stars behind your eyes.
No words were spoken, but the silence knew,
That something eternal had just come into view.
[Pre-Chorus] And it felt like a sign, something greater in play,
The world paused for us in that fleeting delay.
[Chorus] It was destiny, meant to be,
Just you and me— A bus ride to eternity,
Let’s leave it all behind.
No map, no plan, just your hand in mine,
Riding through forever, one stop at a time.
[Verse] Coffee in the morning, footsteps in the rain,
We danced through sorrow, we laughed through pain.
The roads weren’t easy, but love always knew,
That the ride was worth it when shared by two.
[Pre-Chorus] Each mile a memory, each turn a vow,
What started by chance is everything now.
[Chorus] It was destiny, meant to be, Just you and me—
A bus ride to eternity, Let’s leave it all behind.
No map, no plan, just your hand in mine,
Riding through forever, one stop at a time.
[Break]
[Bridge] Through every skyline, every bend,
I’d choose that corner, again and again.
Our journey’s inked in stars above,
A story sealed with steady love.
[Chorus] It was destiny, meant to be, Just you and me—
A bus ride to eternity, Let’s leave it all behind.
Forever in motion, with hearts aligned,
We’ll ride through the echoes of space and time.
[Outro] Let’s leave it all behind… Just you and me, forever aligned.