It's not about want, fear, or running out of time, so that nothing pulls on you. Humans feel restless because bodies age, desires persist, and choices have costs. That tension creates ambition, meaning, and care. The contentment you’re drawn to isn’t found by becoming less human...it comes from wanting fewer things at once, with clarity.

Is it magical for you or stressful? I was going to write a big thing on the topic but I wanted to know your thoughts first.

There is a strange balance we walk as fathers. We want to raise honest, thoughtful kids, but we also spend so much energy shielding them from things they are not ready for. It becomes a constant question of when to integrate them into the harder parts of life and when to protect their peace. Last night reminded me of that balance. Nothing dramatic happened. I was simply overstimulated after a long workday. My son wanted a fun evening with his dad. I wanted that too… but my nerves were shot. I was tapped out. Instead of snapping, I tried being honest with him in the simplest way I could. I told him, Daddy might yell right now. I just need a second. He definitely didn’t understand the full picture, but he understood the signal. He gave me that moment. And I realised that some truths can be shared earlier than I thought. Not the heavy stuff…not the marriage worries or money stress or the avalanche of adult concerns. But a small truth he could hold. Our kids are smarter than we give them credit for. They want to be part of our team if we treat them like they are already on it. And they need so much from us. Sometimes more than we feel we have to give. That part is hard. That part stretches us. But last night reminded me that honesty, even in small doses, can be a gift for them and for us. It keeps the connection intact. It keeps us human. It keeps them included in a way they can actually handle. That might be the hardest part of being a good father… knowing when to protect and when to let them in. No questions today Boys. I just wanted to share. I made this group for us to learn from each other and get things off my chest. Thanks for joining me.

I was having a rough time this morning with Gratitude. Did some work and it left me with a few points on the topic: 1. Gratitude isn’t a feeling; it’s a direction. You don’t have to feel grateful for something to acknowledge its place in your life. Sometimes gratitude is just: “I see that this is here, even if I didn’t ask for it, and even if I don’t know how to feel about it yet.” That still counts. 2. You’re allowed to feel conflicted about good things. Good things that came at the wrong time… Good things that weren’t your dream… Good things that don’t feel aligned with your identity… Those don’t ignite the same emotional circuitry as the core things you named. There’s no guilt required. 3. Gratitude grows backwards. Sometimes you appreciate things only after you’ve lived enough life to understand the role they played. That delay doesn’t mean anything is wrong right now. 4. You’re not required to force a feeling your body isn’t producing. That’s not gratitude—that’s performance. — If you’re not from the US, this can still ring true. Gratitude plays a huge part in our lives and our happiness. To all my fellow Americans, enjoy your holiday. I can only hope you spend it with people that bring you joy…or at least something to laugh about. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Hey Fathers, A quick thank you and a strong “keep grinding” to all the fathers showing up every day. It can be frustrating that motherhood is often met with unanimous praise while fatherhood tends to operate in the shadows. When absence is acknowledged more than presence, it’s easy to feel invisible or unappreciated. Platforms like this can help shift that narrative. One of the hardest parts of fatherhood, for me, is the lack of recognition. You don’t want to ask for it, but after helping your wife, your kids, your pets, your friends, your family—it’s hard not to hope for it. It’s like standing in a room full of empty cups while you’re the only pitcher, pouring into everyone else. But who pours into you? Where’s your refill? How do you stay whole when everyone needs something from you? Books, music, and forums have helped me stay grounded, but I’ve been missing the connection piece. Talking with like-minded men helps me feel less selfish or crazy for wanting more—even when I already have so much to be grateful for: a wife, kids, love, health, happiness. I believe this will be a space where iron sharpens iron, and I want to thank you brothers in advance. Let’s get stronger together. Let’s be each other’s refill. Keep going, fathers. You’re doing amazing.