MICHIGAN

As a born and raised Texan, there's nothing more refreshing than heading up north. After a visit to Michigan last fall, I thought nothing could beat the vibrant leaves, crisp air, and sensational cider. That was until this trip. The entire week was all about fishing, grilling, and swimming.

Growing up on a crystal-clear river in South Texas, lakes never held much appeal for me. But Michigan is an exception. Not only are their Great Lakes stunning, but they also have thousands of smaller lakes scattered across the state. Michigan boasts over 11,000 lakes, ranking it 3rd among all the states. Lakefront property is commonplace in Michigan compared to Texas. It's not just for the wealthy or retired; it's simply part of being a Michigander.

With Joe's family residing on a smaller lake, we took the pontoon out at least twice a day. Pontoon boats would line up together while everyone sipped on beer and basked in the warmth of the sun. Some would tow kids on their tubes, and we would all revel in the spectacle of laughter and screams of excitement. Others were out there trying to reel in the biggest Pike fish they could find or simply paddling around on kayaks, relishing the day. One evening, I even managed to catch a pike for the family to enjoy for dinner.

We embarked on a day trip to Lake Michigan, and I must say, it truly resembles the ocean. It's so convincing that when I answered my phone, the person on the other end asked, "Are you at the beach?" It was a day filled with sandy beaches, gentle waves lapping at the shore, and a horizon stretching as far as the eye could see, all water.

We lounged in our floats, got a bit too tipsy at lunch, and let the water and sun exhaust us before heading home.

The people we encountered were incredibly friendly, and that little lake felt like a close-knit community. It's the kind of community that adores Chevy cars, local corn, and a good light beer – a true "American-made" community. I have to say, the Amish up there grow some darn good corn, and a Bud Light washes it down just right.

The sunsets were breathtaking every night, and one evening, we even enjoyed a free fireworks show courtesy of a neighbor. The stars filled the sky, accompanied by a chorus of chirping crickets. It was genuinely a relaxing and rejuvenating trip, one I will certainly make again if the opportunity arises.

LOVE

I constantly find myself asking, “What’s the point of life?” No one really knows, but I’m pretty sure its to find love. Find it in a sunset, in a good coffee, in walks with your childhood dog, in a brother’s hug, in a good laugh with friends, and finding it in yourself.

As a kid, the idea of love was framed by movies, music, books and your parents, if you had them. As I’ve grown up, my idea of love has changed. It used to seem so simple, so concrete. Today, I can’t say I believe the same.

Of course I believe in love. In fact, I consider myself a hopeless romantic, but that doesn’t skew reality. Love is what makes life worth living. Whether that means to love running, love traveling, love dogs, love an idea, or love someone, just to love anything I think, is what makes life worth all the bad, ugly and sad days.

How do I define such an overwhelming feeling, idea and act? Well, I’d say love is seeing something or someone for what it is or who they are, not what we want them to be or what we want to see. Love is selfless. Love is acceptance and understanding. Love is also challenging and frightening. It’s challenging yourself to be the best person you can be and supporting the people you love to do the same. Love is hard.

It may fade through the rainy seasons of life, but deep down, it will always be there. As naïve as it may seem, I think love makes the world a better place. It frees us from judgment, hatred, bitterness, selfishness, all the things that slowly rot the sole. It brings us back to innocence. When you see kids, you see innocence and love. The purest form of love. Love before its compressed by bias, heartbreak, stress and fear. I think we can learn from kids as much as we think they can learn from us.

For so long I let love take the back seat in my life. I let greed, selfishness, judgement and hatred take control and I almost didn’t come back from that. I make a point to love each and every day now, because it helps me be the person I want to be, someone I can love.

I have a tattoo on my wrist, “F.L.Y.” First. Love. Yourself. I think loving anything is nearly impossible unless you learn to love yourself first. I couldn’t love others or anything else in life the way those things and people deserved to be loved, until I learned to love myself. I had to admit mistakes, forgive myself, and let go of all the ghosts that I let haunt me. Only then, did I find true happiness. I got that tattoo to remind myself everyday that we aren’t promised tomorrow. Choose love over hate, over anything because if today was your last day, what would you choose?

DRY TORTUGAS

For those who love travel, here is an abbreviated version of my latest adventure.

My week of adventure began by flying into Fort Myers, FL, where I met my mom for the drive down to Key West, FL. There is nothing like a packed flight to remind yourself to never take personal space for granted. aha.

The six-hour drive flew by fast by chatting with my mom, and we were thrilled to make it to the dock before sunset. The ocean air revived our souls, as did the beer. As the sun set, our boat captain, John, picked us up on the dinghy for a quick ride to the anchored sailboat, Halia.

Now for the real adventure! Come morning, we set out to Sand Key Lighthouse, where we were fortunate enough to snorkel the most abundant reef formations and swim with nurse sharks chartering the shallows. We then sailed to Boca Grande, where we snorkeled a shipwreck home to Jerry, the Goliath Grouper. I swam through and around the shipwreck like one of the fish. As the day ended, we anchored the boat in the calm, protected bay and enjoyed dinner and a sunset.

The next day, we sailed nine hours to the Dry Tortugas. Nine hours of sailing takes it out of you… Being surrounded by nothing but water all day has a way of humbling you. I was reminded how insignificant and powerless I was compared to the ocean. Oddly enough, I loved that feeling. I felt untouchable and safe and at peace sailing through the ocean currents. A few pods of dolphins waved to us along our way. They jumped and slapped their tails, and we cheered them on while they performed. Dolphins are surprisingly interactive with our energy, which made this encounter one to remember. We even got to jump in and swim side-by-side with them before they departed. They are such amazing creatures.

We anchored Halia right before sunset and were able to give Fort Jefferson an evening tour. Fort Jefferson took 32 years to build. Its intended purpose was a military outpost, but in the three decades it took to make, weaponry had drastically changed, making The Fort of no use. Fort Jefferson was then used as a prison for a short time. A real-life Azkaban. So cool! The Fort has two stories with a rooftop of old canons going all the way around its octagon-like shape. The inside was grass and trees, framed by red brick arches everywhere. It was an architect’s garden. Fort Jefferson also doubles as a bird sanctuary. Hundreds of birds swarmed over the tiny inlet behind The Fort. The Fort made for a great sunset spot, where I watched the sun set behind nothing but the ocean’s horizon.

First thing the following morning, we snorkeled what remained of the fort’s original dock. The old steel pillars underwater made a home for a massive array of healthy coral. Little schools of fish swam under and around the dock, happy to be nestled in their haven. As the sun rose, we sailed a short distance to Logger Head Light House on Logger Key. This desolate island is without buoys to prevent the destruction of its reefs. As respectful tourists, my mom and I jumped off Halia and swam the half mile into shore, snorkeling along the way.

The key was home to a few buildings where the groundskeepers resided. On the windward side of the island, we found an old couple residing in their home away from home. I couldn’t imagine living on such a small island for months with no human interaction. It was a beautiful place regardless. The lighthouse was made of red brick with a white paint wash finish, which was slowly disappearing from wind and water erosion. After I had taken ample photos and severely worsened my sunburn, we returned to the boat to sail back to Fort Jefferson before sunset.

Once we arrived, I dove around the shallows of the fort and retrieved any amiss bricks in the sand. I swam them to shore and stacked them like a mini Fort Jefferson. I loved making something new out of something broken. Reminder: You are never too young to play.

For sunset, my mother and I took to the hammock, enjoying music and laughing about the most insignificant things. You know those moments where you know you won’t ever forget what you had with someone? That was one of them for me. Truly grateful for that.

The next morning, we sailed to Marqueses. This consisted of a small group of islands formed by a meteorite hitting the earth hundreds of years ago. The islands formed in a circle, which made a protected bay inside, sheltering small fish, birds, and tons of hermit crabs. A desolate place. There were ice-cold springs draining into the ocean from the islands, so when walking right on the shore, your feet were refreshed by ice-cold water amidst the heat of the day. All I could hear were the pelican’s wings ruffling as they changed positions in the water. The space was so empty the sounds of the birds seemed to echo.

The next day, Halia took us out of the Dry Tortugas and back to the Florida Barrier Reef where we snorkeled the Western Dry Rocks. I had never seen more barracudas in my life! I also saw the largest angel fish I had ever seen, gently exploring the beautiful canals and caves the reef formations had made here. After a few front flips off the front of the boat, we sailed back to Key West. I rode out those last few hours on the water sitting above the anchor. I felt comforted by the water washing my feet and the sun reflecting on me. A bittersweet afternoon to say the least. As excited as I was to return to the city and its magical plumbing and restaurants, I felt empty. I was leaving behind an entirely different life that people choose to live. It reminded me that we can live any life we want to. It’s never too late.

Sponsored by:

Dramamine

All Day Founders IPA

Please visit the bottom of my gallery to see more photos from this great adventure. Thanks for reading!

PERSPECTIVE

We all see the world through our own perspectives, shaped by our unique life experiences. These perspectives evolve as we grow and encounter new situations, much like a lens on a camera that allows us to adjust our focus. The ability to explore different viewpoints is not just enlightening but also essential for personal growth.

When we’re young, many things—rules, choices, or the complexities of life—don’t fully make sense. But as we age and navigate new stages, our perspectives shift, enabling us to empathize and understand things we once found puzzling. This process of looking at life through different lenses broadens our understanding and helps us see the bigger picture.

Taking on someone else’s perspective—even briefly—can transform the way we view the world. Whether we imagine life through the eyes of someone with a different career, culture, gender, or even species, it often reshapes what we consider important. Suddenly, the challenges we face in our daily lives might seem smaller, while the experiences or struggles of others take on greater meaning.

I’ve heard parents say, “You won’t truly understand until you have kids.” While I used to nod politely, I’ve come to realize they were right—it’s hard to grasp their perspective without stepping into their shoes. This principle applies to every perspective we’re unfamiliar with: understanding requires us to actively shift our view.

The way we choose to frame our life experiences carries incredible power. We can approach life with positivity or negativity, with open-mindedness or resistance, with selfishness or selflessness. From my perspective, these choices either expand our world or limit it.

This is one of the reasons I’ve always loved photography. Photography allows us to choose how we frame our world, capturing the beauty, complexity, or simplicity in any moment. I have a particular affinity for macro photography, which magnifies the smallest details—things we often overlook in our rush through daily life. When I photograph the world from the perspective of a flower, a dog, or even an ant, I consistently find beauty in unexpected places. This practice reminds me to slow down, savor life’s subtle wonders, and truly “stop and smell the roses.”

This week, I encourage you to embrace a new perspective. Try something unfamiliar: watch a documentary, read a book outside your usual genre, have a conversation with someone whose life differs from yours, or simply take a walk with fresh eyes. Challenge yourself to reframe your experiences—you might just uncover a whole new way of seeing the world.

HOME

Home is more than just a physical space—it’s a feeling of familiarity, a sanctuary of love, and a haven uniquely our own. It can take on countless forms, which is why the idea of home holds such deep significance. For many of us, much of life revolves around finding that sense of belonging and creating a space where we feel at peace.

As children, having a safe and nurturing home is foundational. Looking back on my own childhood, I realize I took every roof over my head for granted—not just the walls and the bed I slept in, but also the people and comforts that filled those spaces. My pets, my family, my little corner of the world, even the meals on the table—I accepted them as givens, rarely pausing to appreciate them.

But not everyone is so fortunate. Some grow up without a place to call home or continue to face homelessness throughout life. That reality reminds me to cherish even the simplest comforts: a cozy spot to read or nap, a favorite rug where pets curl up, a thriving houseplant, sunlight pouring through a window, or even the luxury of clean, drinkable tap water. There is so much within our homes that deserves gratitude.

The concept of home evolves as we move through life. For some, it’s a series of stops along the way—military families moving state to state, children of divorce splitting time between households, or foster children adapting to new environments. Others may stay rooted in one house growing up, only to create new homes later in life—a dorm room in college, a new city for work, or eventually building a home for a family of their own.

Ultimately, home is what we make it. Whether you live alone or share your space with others, remember how much your actions and words shape the atmosphere of that home. A kind gesture or a loving word can make all the difference in how others experience their shared space.

For me, home isn’t just a place—it’s a feeling. It’s wherever I find acceptance, love, and comfort. With that definition, I realize I have many "homes." I find it within myself, in the memories of my childhood, beside a body of water, in a gymnastics gym, with my cat curled up by my side, in my car on an open road, and most of all, in the embrace of those I love.

So, what does "home" mean to you?

SEASONS

In celebration of Texas finally getting a taste of cold weather, I couldn’t help but reflect on the beauty of the seasons we’re lucky to experience year after year. Summer, Fall, Winter, Spring—each brings its own distinct memories, complete with unique flavors, scents, and sensations.

Summer takes me back to sunburns soothed with aloe, half-melted ice cream cones dripping down our hands, cars that still smell faintly of sunscreen, and those endless warm days that close with lazy, golden sunsets.

Fall sweeps in with red and orange leaves crunching underfoot, crisp air that plays with our hair, and the comforting embrace of cozy knit sweaters and pumpkin spice lattes warming our hands.

Winter blankets everything in frost or snow, with that satisfying crunch under our boots. It’s the season of chapped lips in need of balm, the warm glow of pine-scented candles, and streets twinkling with festive lights.

Spring arrives with fresh morning dew, pastel wildflowers begging to be picked, and birdsong floating in the air. It’s a time of renewal, when New Year’s resolutions find their second wind and nature itself feels like it’s waking up.

Each season is like a time capsule, holding memories we’ve gathered over the years. And much like the changing weather, our lives move through their own "seasons"—childhood, high school, college, and the mysterious adulting phase where we’re all figuring it out as we go. These life seasons carry their own vivid recollections: family trips, favorite meals, fleeting interests, or scents that transport us to a specific moment.

What I love most about seasons is how they remind us that change is inevitable. When life feels tough, this realization reassures me that nothing stays the same forever. Hard times will pass. And when things are good, it makes me savor the moment even more, knowing it’s precious and fleeting.

I’m grateful to look back on past "seasons" of my life with pride or humor, marveling at how far I’ve come. It’s exciting to think about the "seasons" yet to come—new jobs, homes, friendships, hobbies, pets, and relationships. Change is constant, and that’s such a freeing thought. It lifts the weight of the present and lets us focus on appreciating the now.

So, here’s to the seasons—both in nature and in life. Be thankful for the one you just left behind, cherish the one you’re in, and look forward to the one waiting ahead. Change is beautiful. Embrace it.

SOCIAL FREE

When people find out I’ve stepped away from social media, their reaction is almost always the same: “What do you even do without it?” It makes me laugh because I vividly remember a time when I was so glued to social media that I might not have noticed if a tree fell right in front of me. It’s such an effortless time-sucker—hours lost scrolling, stalking, and shopping without even realizing it.

One of my students was genuinely baffled, asking how I could possibly function without social media. But looking back, I can’t help but wonder how I ever functioned with it.

For me, social media was like quicksand—pulling me in deeper and deeper while making real, unfiltered moments feel almost nonexistent. It created this distorted version of reality, not just for me but for so many others. Walking away from it felt liberating, like shedding a heavy weight I didn’t even know I was carrying.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m not anti-social media. With two degrees in the field, I see it as an incredible tool for business and connection. It’s a game-changer, especially for small businesses looking to make an impact. But as a personal escape? For me, it became more of a trap than a tool.

Stepping away has made my life feel more grounded and genuine. I’ve found clarity in being my true self and have become much better at recognizing authenticity in others too.

The past six months without social media have been nothing short of transformative. My mental health has flourished now that I’m not stuck in a cycle of comparison or longing for a highlight reel that isn’t real life. I’ve reclaimed so much time to focus on self-improvement, deepen my relationships, and truly be present—whether I’m alone or surrounded by loved ones.

I’ve rediscovered my love for reading, drawing, and writing. My days feel purposeful, and I no longer feel the constant pull to keep up with someone else’s updates.

I’m sharing my experience because it’s been one of the best decisions I’ve made recently. If you ever feel like social media is taking away time from what you love or the people who matter, it might be worth reflecting on how it fits into your life.

This journey has redefined my priorities and left me happier than ever. Finding this freedom has been so fulfilling, and I hope it inspires you to consider what freedom might look like for you.

GRATITUDE

A gentle nudge to pause and appreciate the many blessings that often go unnoticed in our busy lives.

Today, I caught myself taking something for granted that’s so integral to modern life: the internet. When checking emails or hopping on a Zoom call suddenly becomes impossible, it reminds you just how much we rely on these everyday conveniences. It’s humbling, really—and a great opportunity to step back and be grateful for the things we often overlook.

We’ve all had moments where we’ve complained about the little things—a lukewarm shower, a limited menu, or minor frustrations with work or relationships. But complaining has this sneaky way of clouding our ability to feel gratitude.

That’s why I’ve adopted a personal mantra:
“Don’t complain, but if you must, let it be about things outside your control.”

Growing up, many of us were taught to vent our frustrations about things we could change—it’s almost second nature. But unlearning that habit has been one of the most transformative decisions I’ve ever made. It didn’t happen overnight. It took me three years of steady effort to stop seeing complaints as a reflex, and even now, I have moments when old habits creep back in. Still, I can say, with real pride, that this shift has made me a person I truly like and respect—someone I’d want to spend time with.

Letting go of complaints has also made gratitude come so much more naturally. It’s like a door opened, letting me fully appreciate the beauty in the everyday. The wildflowers lining my running path, the elderly couple holding hands on the boardwalk, the way the sunset paints the sky—all of these things feel more vivid and meaningful now. Gratitude has helped me see the world through a lens of love, uncovering the little joys I used to miss.

Gratitude isn’t just a feel-good practice—it’s a powerful tool for growth. If self-improvement is something that excites you, try starting a gratitude journal. I promise, it won’t feel like a wasted effort. Instead, you’ll nurture something beautiful within yourself: a deeper sense of appreciation and a clearer path to becoming your best self.

GROWTH

The beauty of growth lies in its subtlety. It doesn’t happen in the blink of an eye or leap out to announce itself. Instead, it unfolds gradually, often becoming most noticeable when we step back and reflect on how far we’ve come.

Think of a potted plant. If you stare at it all day, waiting for it to grow, it feels like nothing is happening. But go about your life—run errands, explore, embrace your routine—and when you return, you’ll suddenly notice that tiny new leaf or an extra inch of stem. That’s the magic of growth—it rewards patience and consistency, gently reminding us that progress takes time.

What I love most about growth is its transformative power. It nudges us forward, adding layers of depth and experience to our lives. Without it, everything would feel stagnant and predictable. Growth teaches us that life doesn’t wait on our timelines; it moves at its own pace, and that’s okay.

As I look toward the year ahead, my biggest goal is to grow—no matter how big or small the progress might seem. I want to dive deeper into my passions, embrace new adventures, and challenge myself to step outside my comfort zone. I hope to spend more time connecting with nature and finding purpose in my professional journey.

This year, I’ve taken the time to write down my goals—a habit I wish I’d started sooner! I’ve listed the skills I want to learn, the projects I dream of completing, and the places I long to visit. If you haven’t done something similar, I highly recommend it. Dream big, and give yourself the joy of seeing those dreams turn into achievements.

I’m already looking forward to revisiting this moment a year from now—to seeing how much I’ve changed and how the world around me has shifted. I hope these words inspire you to take that first step toward something you’ve been putting off—whether it’s starting a project, signing up for a class, or planning that road trip you’ve always talked about.

Because when we take action, we learn. And when we learn, we grow.