conversations in transit
reflections with a close friend and mentor
Galen
How are you?
Me
I’ve been in a time of transition.
Biological entropy has put life in perspective.
And motivation hasn’t been what it used to be.
I’m still doing things — I’m hosting events at Apple to help new hires and interns connect and set intentions. I’ve written music and lifted weights and made so many new friends. Things are happening. But I’ve also felt myself pulling back — I think there’s a large chunk of me that is not interested in being involved.
In anything. At all.
Galen
Expand on that, in what way?
Me
It boils down to this.
A young man realizes that life is not filled with the sunshine and rainbows as he thought it was. And he decides he doesn't want to engage with this bleak reality all the time, and, rather than process it–because he doesn't have very many people to talk with it about (because he has chosen not to)–he pulls away. And by pulling away from the sad life he loses the sweet one as well, because happy feelings cannot exist without sad ones.
This has left the young man in a sort of haze.
A much greater one than he is used to.
The hopeful kid wants to reclaim what he used to feel, before,
but he knows the past was never as good as he makes it out to be.
And at the same time, he will never agree.
Galen Hamilton
It sounds like you’re in one of those stretches where a person has to change. You said something powerful there — pulling back from feeling one thing often means pulling back from feeling all things.
Me
Exactly. It’s SUCKED bro.
I used to seek growth on my own terms — then I got to pull the levers myself.
But lately, life’s been the one pulling. And I’ve had to surrender to it and let the answers show up instead of chasing them. I used to feel so energized by the meaning I was making, constantly reflecting and crafting narratives to explain everything. But I’m tired. Tired of having to make meaning out of the meaning-making. Part of me had to die to make it through these last few months, and it has brought a new kind of personality crisis; this time, I’m learning to give in to the looseness of my experience.
All I can do is wake up in the morning and look in the mirror and accept that yes, I don't recognize the person in front of me, but I do see him. And all I can do is acknowledge him and say tell him I’m here for him and whatever it is that he needs to do to figure this out. Or he can do nothing at all.
There’s a kind of fatigue that comes from always asking yourself why. From constantly holding up every feeling to the light, inspecting it, trying to understand it. And at some point, you just want to feel — not analyze the feeling. There was a stretch where I didn’t know how I felt because I was too busy trying to understand why I felt that way. Wanting to know how I feel versus just feeling it. And now I want to live on the flip side of that sentence.
Galen
That’s the nature of real transformation. It’s not something we always choose — it happens. You’re not 16 anymore, change is necessary! And what you’re describing isn’t scary. It’s the evolution of your consciousness.
Me
Yeah. And I’ve been finding peace in new places. I’ve had long conversations with older mentors. One of them, said something that stuck with me — that at a certain point, death isn’t something to fear. He’s lived a pretty great life, and if it all had to end tomorrow, well then it would. What stunned me was that I could relate. And that didn’t scare me like it used to.
It just made me feel more human. More cognizant of our shared experience.
Because I have had days where I don’t want to get out of bed. Days where I wonder what it would feel like to just pause on existing for a while. I remember being in high school and thinking — not seriously, but still — that maybe if I just broke my arm, I could finally rest. Be in a hospital bed, not doing homework, not dealing with the pressure to perform. That was the extent of how bad it got sometimes. And then just recently, dropping my parents off at the airport, I saw this image flash in my mind of me swerving the car. It hit me — how casually these kind of thoughts could creep in.
And I realized I’m not alone in this.
It’s not that something is wrong with me.
This is just how we humans process.
We all feel this.
And I’ve come to hold so much more compassion for people who I’d used to label as fragile or lost. Because I have now been there. I have now felt it. And that feeling is perhaps the most grounding truth I’ve learned this year.
Galen
That’s a big realization. We all go through seasons where the joy goes quiet. And yeah, sometimes you just want to stop. Not forever — just long enough to catch your breath.
And that’s OK.
Me
There were definitely times when I felt like there was no joy left. Like I’d never feel light again. And it was scary. But I know now those moments pass. And I keep coming back to something I told myself: now is not the time to call it quits — I have the rest of my life to not exist. That’s my new truth.
And it rhymes too, so it must be true!
Galen
That’s a beautiful way to put it.
Sometimes the answer’s already there, inside the question.
That’s the deep work. It’s also what sets you apart — you ask the questions. You sit with the unknown. That’s a rare thing. But don’t forget to laugh too. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’re not going to let yourself go off course.
Me
That means a lot. Thank you my friend.
Galen
Anytime.