I used to think my goal in life was to be happy. But while I was loudly chasing happiness, I was quietly running from life.

Eventually, I stopped trying to run from the hard moments. I started trying to stay with them. To notice what they were made of. To ask: Even this? Could even this be part of something meaningful?

I’m not here to offer advice or answers. Just a record of what it’s like to try to savor even the fear, even the pain—even this.