The other day, I was on a walk contemplating how I could be more extreme in my political and religious beliefs and a thought occurred to me. Having kids is the singular most human thing we can do. You're probably thinking "well no shit"...but hear me out. The more I think about it, the more I realize how fundamental this is to our existence. Our purpose biologically or spiritually, is literally to create life. If you reframe the idea, it starts to become less of an obligation and more of this mind blowing sacred act.

It's so ritualistic. We create our own little Garden of Eden by having two people (ideally embodying their respective divine masculine and feminine energy), come together to raise a new consciousness. A little being who will grow up, explore this reality, and eventually go off to start their own loop. Creators creating creations who will create more creations, forever. A fractal pattern of both inward and outward. I've sat with this for a minute and I feel like this is exactly what God (or whatever you chose to call it) had in mind all along.

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This realization sparked within me, a deeper desire to be a father. Not in some "maybe someday" kind of way, but in a real, tangible sense. I want to step into that role. The thing though, is that I know myself, and I know that this desire comes with a whole lot of responsibility. I can't just want it, I have to be ready for it. I know there's that whole cliché about how there's never a perfect time to have kids and sure, life is unpredictable. I get that. But as a conscious creator, I also think there's such a thing as a better time. A more thoughtful time.

Right now, for me, that means taking a hard look at myself and asking: Am I ready to bring a whole new being into this world? Am I ready to be the kind of father who shows up fully? The answer at least for now is "not yet." I've still got work to do. My physical, mental, spiritual, and financial health isn't where I'd like it to be and I refuse to pass on my broken pieces to my kid. I can't promise they'll come out unscathed (because who ever does?), but I can make damn sure I can do my best not to add more baggage to their load.

Interestingly though, the path forward is clearer than it's ever been. This desire to be a father has become my North Star. It's reframed everything from how I make decisions, to what I prioritize, and what I need to let go of. Every choice now goes through that lens of: Does this help me become the man I need to be to raise a child? If the answer is no, well then I move on. If it's yes, I lean in. It's really that simple. So much so that I'm like...wait really?

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I guess this is what people mean when they talk about "purpose." I used to think purpose was this far out abstract thing, something you had to find or that came to you in a burst of inspiration mid acid-trip. But now I think purpose is just the thing that makes life make the most sense. It's the thing that simplifies everything else. For me, that's fatherhood. For someone else, it might be something different. But once you find it, it's like you can see how everything falls / will fall into place. Not perfectly, but clearly.

Cool thing is, I can already feel myself shifting because of it. Even in these early stages, I'm noticing how my priorities have changed. The things I used to care about even just a year ago feel absurd now. Aspirations that once seemed important have fallen away. I find myself thinking about Emma in a new way too. How will I care for her when she's preggy? How will I support our family when life inevitably throws curveballs? How do I make sure I'm showing up for everyone, including myself?

These aren't new questions by any means, but they hit different now. They feel heavier. More real. And I'm realizing that this isn't just about me anymore...but then again, it never really was. It's about what kind of legacy I want to leave behind. What kind of world I want to bring my kid into. And what kind of man I want to be in the process of that.

I think what I'm trying to say is... this isn't just about fatherhood. It's about purpose. Once you have a purpose, life starts to simplify in a way that feels both terrifying and liberating. It's not that life gets easier (far from it actually) but it does get clearer. The distractions sort of fade away, and you're left with this one guiding light helping you march forward.

I'm learning to trust that light. To lean into it, even when the path ahead feels uncertain. Because as I've said before: life rarely unfolds the way we plan it anyway. I don't need to control every detail of the journey. I just need to keep moving toward that North Star and trust that I'll get to where I'm meant to be.

For now, that's enough.

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The other day, I was on a walk contemplating how I could be more extreme in my political and religious beliefs and a thought occurred to me. Having kids is the singular most human thing we can do. You're probably thinking "well no shit"...but hear me out. The more I think about it, the more I realize how fundamental this is to our existence. Our purpose biologically or spiritually, is literally to create life. If you reframe the idea, it starts to become less of an obligation and more of this mind blowing sacred act.

It's so ritualistic. We create our own little Garden of Eden by having two people (ideally embodying their respective divine masculine and feminine energy), come together to raise a new consciousness. A little being who will grow up, explore this reality, and eventually go off to start their own loop. Creators creating creations who will create more creations, forever. A fractal pattern of both inward and outward. I've sat with this for a minute and I feel like this is exactly what God (or whatever you chose to call it) had in mind all along.

Subscribe now

This realization sparked within me, a deeper desire to be a father. Not in some "maybe someday" kind of way, but in a real, tangible sense. I want to step into that role. The thing though, is that I know myself, and I know that this desire comes with a whole lot of responsibility. I can't just want it, I have to be ready for it. I know there's that whole cliché about how there's never a perfect time to have kids and sure, life is unpredictable. I get that. But as a conscious creator, I also think there's such a thing as a better time. A more thoughtful time.

Right now, for me, that means taking a hard look at myself and asking: Am I ready to bring a whole new being into this world? Am I ready to be the kind of father who shows up fully? The answer at least for now is "not yet." I've still got work to do. My physical, mental, spiritual, and financial health isn't where I'd like it to be and I refuse to pass on my broken pieces to my kid. I can't promise they'll come out unscathed (because who ever does?), but I can make damn sure I can do my best not to add more baggage to their load.

Interestingly though, the path forward is clearer than it's ever been. This desire to be a father has become my North Star. It's reframed everything from how I make decisions, to what I prioritize, and what I need to let go of. Every choice now goes through that lens of: Does this help me become the man I need to be to raise a child? If the answer is no, well then I move on. If it's yes, I lean in. It's really that simple. So much so that I'm like...wait really?

Subscribe now

I guess this is what people mean when they talk about "purpose." I used to think purpose was this far out abstract thing, something you had to find or that came to you in a burst of inspiration mid acid-trip. But now I think purpose is just the thing that makes life make the most sense. It's the thing that simplifies everything else. For me, that's fatherhood. For someone else, it might be something different. But once you find it, it's like you can see how everything falls / will fall into place. Not perfectly, but clearly.

Cool thing is, I can already feel myself shifting because of it. Even in these early stages, I'm noticing how my priorities have changed. The things I used to care about even just a year ago feel absurd now. Aspirations that once seemed important have fallen away. I find myself thinking about Emma in a new way too. How will I care for her when she's preggy? How will I support our family when life inevitably throws curveballs? How do I make sure I'm showing up for everyone, including myself?

These aren't new questions by any means, but they hit different now. They feel heavier. More real. And I'm realizing that this isn't just about me anymore...but then again, it never really was. It's about what kind of legacy I want to leave behind. What kind of world I want to bring my kid into. And what kind of man I want to be in the process of that.

I think what I'm trying to say is... this isn't just about fatherhood. It's about purpose. Once you have a purpose, life starts to simplify in a way that feels both terrifying and liberating. It's not that life gets easier (far from it actually) but it does get clearer. The distractions sort of fade away, and you're left with this one guiding light helping you march forward.

I'm learning to trust that light. To lean into it, even when the path ahead feels uncertain. Because as I've said before: life rarely unfolds the way we plan it anyway. I don't need to control every detail of the journey. I just need to keep moving toward that North Star and trust that I'll get to where I'm meant to be.

For now, that's enough.

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