The holiday season arrives wrapped in glitter — bright lights, cheerful music, overflowing schedules, and constant reminders that this is supposed to be the happiest time of the year. But the truth is: the holidays are not joyful for everyone, and we rarely talk about that. Behind the smiles in family photos and the perfectly decorated trees are people quietly holding grief, loneliness, stress, exhaustion, and emotional pain.

There’s a kind of tug-of-war no one really prepares you for — the one that happens when your heart is split between two places, two families, and two versions of home. For me, that tug stretches from Los Angeles to Sacramento. My mother and extended family are here in L.A., where my roots are planted deep. But my kids and grandkids are up north in Sacramento, where a different part of my heart lives and breathes.

Pain changes you. Not just in how you move, but in how you think, how you speak, and how you see the world. When your body hurts, calm can feel like a luxury — something just out of reach. You tell yourself to breathe, to relax, to ride the wave, but when every movement reminds you of what’s wrong, that peace can slip through your fingers fast.

Every November, we pause to honor our veterans — the brave men and women who’ve served our country in uniform. We post tributes, attend ceremonies, and share heartfelt words. But the truth is, the sacrifice, resilience, and courage of veterans don’t start and stop on one day of the year. Their service doesn’t take a holiday — and neither should our gratitude.

Being intentional sounds simple: make conscious choices, focus on what matters, and live with purpose. But living that way—really living that way—isn’t always easy. It’s one thing to talk about being intentional, and another thing to practice it when life is loud and unpredictable. Between responsibilities, relationships, and routines, it’s easy to slip into autopilot. We wake up, handle what’s in front of us, and hope we have energy left for the rest.

I didn't know that I last posted on Oct 30th!! Well I'm back!!!!!! I was in Sacramento visiting my daughter and 3 of my grandkids. It was my first time leaving LA since January. It was my first time seeing them in person since last year. I needed this trip and it was I needed. I love been a father and grandfather and of course I am that all the time but it is different when you are not around them in person.

There’s a version of life people like to talk about — the highlight reel, the success stories, the “it’ll all work out” optimism. And then there’s the real world — the one we crash into when the bills pile up, when someone we love gets sick, when the news feels heavier every day, and when the weight of simply being a human…

If there’s one thing Gen X knows how to do, it’s roll with life. Born between 1965 and 1980, this generation grew up latchkey, independent, and self-reliant. They watched vinyl become streaming, typewriters become tablets, and somehow figured out how to live in both worlds. Now, as many Gen Xers step into grandparenthood, they’re doing what they’ve always done best — adapting, with a wink and a playlist from the ’80s in the background.

It’s not easy to look at a situation that frustrates you, hurts you, or drains you — and choose to see it differently. In fact, it can feel almost impossible in the moment. But I’ve learned that reframing — the act of shifting your perspective — can change everything. Reframing doesn’t mean pretending everything is fine or sugarcoating pain. It means recognizing that, while you can’t always control what happens, you can control how you interpret it.

When people hear the word author, they often think of someone tucked away in a quiet cabin, endlessly typing words that will one day live between two covers. And while I respect that image, my journey as an author has been much more dynamic, messy, and alive than that. For me, being an author isn’t just about writing books — it’s about…

There’s a quiet power in reclaiming your time. It doesn’t happen with fireworks or big declarations — it happens in the moments when you finally say, “Wait a minute, what about me?” For a long while, I was running on fumes — saying yes to everything, showing up for everyone, managing tasks that only I could handle. The responsibilities piled up like a never-ending to-do list that just refilled itself.

When life feels too heavy, it’s easy to think you need a grand reset — a total overhaul of your mind, your routine, your everything. But healing doesn’t always happen in sweeping transformations. Sometimes, it’s about taking small, calculated steps toward peace. Recently, I gave myself two full days that were just for me. No clients, no family demands, no “quick favors” that turn into full projects.

Let’s talk about boundaries — those invisible lines that protect your peace, time, and energy. Setting them doesn’t make you mean, distant, or difficult. It makes you healthy. It makes you aware. It means you finally understand that not everyone deserves access to every part of you. 🚧 Boundaries Are Self-Respect in Action When you say no, you’re not rejecting someone — you’re respecting yourself.

Let’s be honest — meltdowns happen. To all of us. Maybe it’s the weight of too many responsibilities, too many “I’m fine” moments stacked on top of each other, or just one thing that finally tips the scale. The moment itself feels messy, scary, and even embarrassing. But here’s the truth: a meltdown isn’t the end. It’s a beginning — an alarm that something inside you needs care, not shame.

I have so much on my plate that even I can't believe it sometimes.I don't openly whine about it or complain because I know in reality that no one cares. Okay let me rephrase it a bit, there are a few people who may care but lets go back to reality..everyone is going through stuff. Everyone is busy. I don't like to air all of my feelings.

There are a million matchmakers out there promising true love. There are a million dating apps where everyone swipes but no one talks or meets up. There are people saying they are lonely yet they are stubborn on what they want. Its very specific and very hard to find. I have to navigate all of that while: Living in a large city.

There was a time — not that long ago — when donuts and I had an unbreakable bond. We were inseparable. Glazed, jelly-filled, chocolate frosted — I didn’t discriminate. If it came from a pink bakery box and smelled like heaven, I was in love. Then, life threw me a plot twist: diabetes.And just like that, my sweet relationship turned toxic.

I’ve spent a lot of my life moving. Doing. Managing. Creating. Fixing. My mind was always in motion, my hands always full. I used to think if I slowed down — even for a moment — everything around me would fall apart. Deadlines would be missed, people would be disappointed, and somehow, the world would spin off its axis without my constant attention.

Let’s be honest — sometimes, the phrase “self-care” gets twisted. People love to tell you to take a break, light a candle, or get a massage when you’re stressed. And sure, that all sounds nice — but when you’ve got a pile of responsibilities staring you in the face, relaxation isn’t what you need. What you really need? Help. With. The.

There’s something magical about a long bath. Not the quick rinse-and-run kind, but the kind where the world slows down, the water is just right, and for a little while, nothing else matters. It’s more than a routine — it’s a reset button. A long bath gives me permission to pause, to breathe, and to let go of everything that’s been weighing on me.