Reflections on Five Years of Change and Growth

I am remiss. I love this blog. I love everything about it and I’ve virtually ignored it for almost 5 years. I’m ashamed and sad and all sorts of other passing emotions I cannot put a finger on but alas June 30th is a big anniversary and that prompts me to start…yet again. So here’s a 5 year rapid rundown.

God delivered me when I didn’t think it possible. Ten years ago I thought my life was over and it was really just beginning. In the past 10 years I’ve won, lost, gained, lost, loved, lost, and I’m still standing. I’m tired of building character and I often feel like it’s “my turn” but ultimately I’m not in control. God is in control and he has delivered me back to the land of health and solvency.

Fighting Covid and it’s economic effects was an 18,800 kilometer ordeal. I started in Costa Rica where I had finally moved full time to my adorable condo in Playas del Coco. I sold my Rolex and installed a stunning kitchen…I was all set. I headed to Orlando to a conference where I was confident I could build a new career based on the training I received at ITMI. It was a hugely successful trip and I managed to cobble together a years worth of profitable work between over the road tours and a coveted Guest Speaker position aboard American Cruise Lines. I was stoked to say the least. After a disastrous stint on the Yangtze River in China as a Cruise Director I was dying to get back on the water. My recovery was almost complete…then…Covid. I did not see my condo again for over two years and I only went back to prep it for sale. More loss.

But is there really light at the end of the tunnel? What no one warns you about is that the tunnel doesn’t end—it branches, twists, and multiplies into an endless maze of choices. There are no signs, no maps, no whispers of which path leads to peace and which one dead-ends in chaos. You stumble down one, hopeful, only to realize it’s the wrong one—and the journey back? It bruises you. It humbles you. But it sharpens you, too. You gather wisdom along the way, sure, but it never quite arms you for the next crossroad. Every decision still feels like a shot in the dark. It all feels like guesswork—wild, desperate, deeply human guesswork. And yet, somehow, amid the confusion, you learn. You learn to stop sprinting toward an exit and start standing still. You breathe. You begin to live in the now.

And that? That’s the key that unlocks everything.