Little Me

I've been solely dancing and displaying words with pen and paper, but I miss this space as well. Fingers and keys have a different kind of dance. They carry their own friction and flow, unique from the slow flow of pen on paper.

I have yet to reflect on year 47 of this cycle. This time last year, I was in Morocco. It feels like another lifetime. To excavate the memories, I would need to open my old journals and sift through my photos.

For the last couple of months, I’ve been carrying around a photo of little me. I think I was five years old. Below the Polaroid, someone wrote, "HI EVERYBODY." This sentence is me—it's who I have become, or maybe it’s who I’ve always been. It took a while to return to this authenticity because, for much of my life, I wasn’t able to flow in the way that was natural to me.

I was a happy kid—joyful and loving—but my environment was not welcoming to my nature. It was difficult. Still, it taught me to find joy in an incognito way. I learned how to protect my spirit from a very young age. I touched that place of safety when I was alone, playing in my room under the tents I would build. It was my place to be me.

I did this for a long time and still do, though as I got older, I learned to find calm and peace beyond my own space. To find peace under all roofs.

It has taken many years. The last few years of being nomadic have helped me reach this place. I consciously lived under shared roofs to learn how to flow with the energy of others. The one thing I am yet to master is how to flow—how to be this little guy with a smile—despite the chaos in romantic relationships. I’m still yet to find someone I can intertwine with and not lose myself.

I keep this photo with me because I want to reflect on how we started this journey. I want to ask him: How did we do? How are you feeling now? You carried us through some really difficult times.

Little me is getting emotional. I feel goosebumps throughout my body. I, too, am getting emotional as I write this. Or maybe it’s he who is getting emotional.

Tears want to flow, but I’m in a café, so I hold them back. I’ll save them for later. I love you. Thank you.

We made it through. What bigger accomplishment is there than to arrive at this destination of openness? To move through this world with an open heart and grand compassion. Compassion for self, compassion for others, and compassion for this life.

This maskless place. This happiness that rises deep within, without external dependency.

What a beautiful place to be.

I’m not going to look back and analyze this past year. Instead, I’ll observe the present, because the present tells me all I need to know about my past and the seeds I’m going to plant for my future self.

The Challenges of Showing Gratitude and Saying Thank You

I had an interesting realization the other night and have been wanting to write this all month. A pattern has surfaced within me—an inability to truly thank those who’ve had a profound impact on my life. When it’s someone I’ve known for only a short time, expressing my gratitude feels natural, like my thankfulness can match what I received.

But when it comes to people—and in this case, an entire community like GLP—that have profoundly shaped my life, I feel like no words could ever be enough. Nothing I say could measure up to the appreciation and love I feel.

Every single day, I find myself speaking about the GLP community, expressing my admiration and appreciation out loud. Talking about the impact you've all had on me is one of my proudest moments each day. You’ve shown me how to give and receive love, taught me that I am enough, and even shifted my view on social media—it’s not just a place for distraction, but a space that can truly connect and uplift.

You’ve given me permission to dive deeper, to be unapologetically myself.

As I entered a new decade, I took a moment to reflect on the one that just passed. My early thirties weren’t easy, but I got through them. I knew, even then, that there was a reward waiting. And in 2014, I received it—a gift that continues to unfold.

That gift is all of you.

I feel like I won the happiness lottery, a lottery that gave me access to a world of feeling good enough, a lottery that allowed me to shed all the masks I wore and simply be. The prize? A deeper self-awareness, an acceptance of who I am, and the permission to wear just one hat—my own.

Every day, I feel like the luckiest person alive, and it’s because of each of you. I love you all deeply. Thank you for being in my life and for being such incredible examples to follow.

Many see the world through a lens of negativity. I choose to see all of you. This community gives me the hope I need. When people complain about the state of the world, I think of you all and smile—inside and out. I know each of you is transforming, within and without, and your presence alone is impacting the world.

Regardless of how much darkness surrounds us, this community will always be the light the world needs. You are the flashlight that illuminates my path, that keeps hope alive, even in the darkest of times.

It’s by standing on the shoulders of this community that I can see the beauty that lies ahead.