My wife has been gently guiding me, patiently showing me a new way of being for years now. It’s a way that goes against the grain of everything I’ve been taught and everything I’ve strived for—effort, hustle, perfection. I’ve spent my life checking all the boxes: three master’s degrees, awards, honors, and recognition. You’d think after all that, I’d feel complete, right? Yet, the truth is, I’ve often felt empty. And I’ve found myself asking, “Is this it?”

Turns out, the answer is a resounding no. Not even close.

I recently spent two days in Toronto at the All the Magic event with Martha Beck and

, and what I walked away with felt revolutionary. For so long, I’ve been conditioned to believe that the hustle, the endless striving, the endless doing was the way to find happiness and fulfillment. But here’s the kicker: what I’ve discovered is that the real magic lies in embracing words that make me deeply uncomfortable—messy and foolish.

These words seem to be the polar opposite of everything I’ve worked for my entire life. For so long, I’ve been trying to be perfect and appropriate. Now, I’m slowly realizing that there’s beauty and freedom in letting go of that perfectionism. I’ve started creating art, messing around with paint, building Legos, writing songs, and spending an obscene amount of time building gardens for my tortoise, Snicker.

And guess what? I’m not really doing anything. I’m not producing. I’m not achieving. And yet—I’m happy. Genuinely, deeply happy.

But there’s this old voice in me, a part of myself that’s been screaming, “You’re not doing enough! Who are you if you’re not achieving, not earning, not checking boxes?” And that voice has been terrifying to confront. It feels as though I’m waiting for permission to step off the hamster wheel of productivity, to just be me without all the doing. So, who am I waiting for permission from?

I don’t have that answer yet. But what I do know is this: spending time with Martha and Liz affirmed that this path I’m on—the path of creating, playing, and being—is exactly where I’m supposed to be. They reinforced the idea that the most important work we can do is to simply create. So why did it feel like I needed their permission? Maybe it’s because, for the first time, I didn’t feel alone in going rogue.

Now that I’m home from Toronto, I’m embracing what I’ve always wanted: Legos, trees, water, cool sheets, writing, speaking, walking with my pups, and cuddle time with my wife and kid. I’m playing more, creating more, and giving space to the things that make me feel alive. The most interesting part? When I do this, I’m not an asshole. I’m not angry, hurried, or irritated. And that’s a big win.

What if we all just slowed down? What if we created more, played more, and embraced the things that truly made us feel alive? Wouldn’t that change the world?

I’ve spent so much time helping people who are desperate—desperate to live, desperate to heal, desperate to help others. And now, I finally feel like this is what can truly help. It’s about coming back home, back to ourselves, and connecting through art, play, and love.

So, what are you creating today? I’d love to see your art!