What I Realized After the Mirror
Integrity is what remains when correctness is no longer enough.
Wisdom is how you live.
Integrity is what remains when correctness is no longer enough.
This is not a religious argument.
It’s a human one.
It’s about how we learned to live at scale,
what that cost us,
and the one human life that showed what we lost.
It’s also about how that life found me again.
There was a time I couldn’t name why my work felt heavy.
It wasn’t failure or burnout—it was the moment I realized I had been maintaining function where responsibility had quietly slipped away.
This morning, a song from my youth opened something I didn’t realize I’d been carrying. Welcome to the Black Parade became the doorway—through absence, grace, and return—that led me back to a place I didn’t know I’d left. Sometimes the song you’ve carried the longest is the one that finally carries you home.
We remember Home Alone for the chaos, but its real Christmas story hides in the quiet scenes — a church pew, a forgotten woman, and two strangers rediscovering the courage to return. This is a reflection on grace, honesty, and the small human moments that bring us home.
How a tattoo taught me systems, drift, and the beginning of my discernment.
A reflection on what happens when a life stretches beyond its natural shape — and the quiet grace of returning to the river you really are.
This reflection traces how presence and grace live in tension: between clarity and kindness, between comfort and awakening,
between the Christ who soothes and the one who stirs.
A quiet remembrance on how every inhale is borrowed and every exhale is a gift — a reflection that begins in a shared bed, expands through family, and ends in communion with all that breathes.
I never really interviewed for jobs. Each one found me through presence. And this morning I realized — Christ has been my longest interviewer.