During my 1000-day challenge — yes, I talk about it often, and for good reason — I’ve discovered something powerful: solitude isn't loneliness; it’s clarity. This journey was first introduced to me by a mentor who visited while I was in a rehab facility. He spoke truth that pierced straight through me — as if he’d known my story before I even opened my mouth. That conversation sparked something. I started digging: watching videos, reading articles, and studying the discipline required to follow through. But the real beginning wasn’t research — it was my desire for change. The kind that comes from surrendering control over what I cannot change and fully owning what I can… me. In the past, I’d slip, then try to keep going without adjusting anything. But nothing would change. I’d just continue, disappointed. Then I stumbled onto a concept: “The Marathon Monks of Mount Hiei.” Their journey spans over seven years. If they fail, the cost is unthinkable: Hara-kiri — ‘honorable suicide...
Lately, life’s felt like rolling the dice every morning. Not in terms of my dreams—those remain clear—but everything around them seems to shift: where I’ll be living, who I’ll be living with, when I’ll return to the state I want to build my future in. Even the energy in the room changes. Uncertainty shows up in every corner, and it would be easy to call it quits. But I’ve been learning to face it differently. The first shift? Not taking things personally . I’ve said it before: things change, people change, feelings change. And trying to carry someone else’s feelings as your own is a heavy burden. Be there for people, absolutely—but don’t lose yourself trying to fix what isn’t yours. Stay present. Realize that not everything is about you, and that's not a bad thing—it's freeing. Then there’s the structure. Even when everything feels up in the air, I still do the things that ground me : recording gameplay, going for walks, updating my ROG Ally, writing these blogs. These sma...