I sat in a parking lot and cried. That moment changed everything.
2020 didn't just take my chiropractic practice. It took my identity. I had built something I was proud of. Then overnight β it was gone. I sold everything, closed the doors, and tried to keep moving like I always had. Crisis mode was comfortable for me. I was good in a crisis. But this time was different. I kept moving for almost a year without ever stopping to ask: where am I actually going? Then one afternoon I found myself sitting in a parking lot, staring at nothing, tears I didn't expect streaming down my face. And a thought broke through the noise: "This isn't living. This is just... existing." That parking lot was my semicolon moment. In grammar, a semicolon means the sentence isn't finished. The author chose to continue. It doesn't end the story β it pauses it, intentionally, before something meaningful comes next. I lost my business; I found my purpose. That's why this community exists. Not to give you more advice from someone who's never fallen. But to be the friend who's been in the hole β and knows the way out. If you're here, I want to know: what's the semicolon moment that brought you to this page? You don't have to share it all. Even one word. π