Just Saying What’s Real

I know I have something to say, but honestly, I’m not always sure what that something is. There’s this loop I get into, wondering how to say it in a way that actually lands with someone out there. But the truth is, I have no idea where anyone is at in their life today, or what they’re feeling.

So instead of trying to tailor the message, I’m leaning into vulnerability. I’m choosing to just show up, share what’s real for me in this moment, and trust that it’s enough. Maybe one person finds something in here that resonates, and if so, that’s more than enough.

Lately, I’ve been feeling the ebb. You know how life moves in waves, there are the expansive moments where everything clicks, and then there are the quieter ones, where things feel heavier or uncertain. I’ve been in the flow recently, making progress, growing. But right now, I’m sitting with the slower part of the cycle. The stillness. The questions.

I’ve been bumping into some old beliefs again, the ones that whisper, “You’re not doing enough” or “You’re not good enough.” These voices go way back, rooted in how I was raised and the culture we’re all swimming in. It’s that constant pressure to do more, be more, prove more. Even when I’m doing a lot, it never feels like enough. It’s exhausting.

So I’m practicing trust. Trusting that what I’m doing is enough. Trusting that things are unfolding exactly how they’re meant to—no faster, no slower. Just right.

And with that trust comes compassion. Not just for myself, but for everyone I’m in connection with. Trusting the process means believing that we’re all doing our best, even when it doesn’t look perfect. That we’re all here, moving through our own versions of this shared human experience.

When I step out of my ego, the part of me that’s grasping for control or approval, I start to feel connected again. I remember that I’m not alone in this. None of us are. And the more I try to hold onto the idea that my struggles are uniquely mine, the more isolated I feel.

But when I soften, when I remember that we’re all just doing our best to navigate this life—it helps. A lot. I’m still learning, but I know this much: being real, even when it’s messy, is what brings us closer.

And here’s where vulnerability really comes into play.

I’m a man living in a society that still, in many ways, equates vulnerability with weakness. From a young age, the messaging is clear: be strong, be stoic, don’t cry. We’re told to “man up,” to push our feelings down, to never show sadness or fear. And over time, that conditioning separates us not just from our emotions but from our bodies, from our humanity.

It takes real work to even notice how deep that programming runs, let alone begin to unwind it.

Yesterday, I had one of those moments. A longtime friend, someone who knows the inner work and lives it, came over. She looked me in the eye and asked, “So, what’s going on with you? What’s real for you right now?”

And out of nowhere, I just cried. No explanation, no apologies. I didn’t hide my face. I didn’t try to tough it out. I just let it come through. And the moment I did, something shifted. A lightness. A release. A sense that I had been holding something for far too long.

And you know what? I didn’t feel weak. I didn’t feel less than. I felt the opposite; supported, appreciated, and deeply connected. She looked at me and said, “We need more men in the world like you.” 

That landed. And I agree.  I felt that our friendship deepened.

We need more of that, more truth, more softness, more space for each other. If we could just get out of our own way, be vulnerable, and lead with compassion and heart, this world would feel different. Lighter. More human.

We’re not fully there yet, but I feel the shift. It’s coming.

If there’s one thing I’m learning, it’s that being human isn’t about getting it all right—it’s about being honest with where you are, showing up with heart, and allowing yourself to be seen in all your complexity. The more we let go of who we think we should be, the more we make space for who we really are—and in that space, something beautiful opens up: connection, clarity, and a deeper sense of belonging.

This journey—of peeling back the layers, challenging old beliefs, and softening into trust—isn’t easy. But you don’t have to do it alone.

That’s why I believe in the power of The Mind Shift Network.

Whether you’re navigating personal growth, leadership challenges, emotional blocks, or just looking for a space to be real and supported, The Mind Shift Network is here to walk alongside you. We offer psilocybin experiences for coaching and personal transformation along with integration designed to help you drop the mask, explore what’s underneath, and create lasting, aligned change.

If any part of this reflection spoke to you, if you’ve ever felt like you’re not doing enough, or questioned your worth—know that you’re not alone. And if you’re ready to shift, to grow, and to show up more fully as yourself, we’re here to support your journey.

Let’s walk this path—together.