Lately, I have found myself feeling um
stuck. Every week, I sit down to cover
the news, and every week it feels like
we're hearing a different version of the
same story. Uh the names change, the
headlines change, the details change. Um
but the underlying feeling, it doesn't.
Tensions rise, we're told a breakthrough
may be just around the corner. Then
another threat gets made, another
deadline passes, and the cycle, it just
starts all over again. And that happened
again this week. Normally on Fridays,
we'd be talking about the latest
headlines, and that was a plan. I was
preparing to film this week's news
update on Thursday evening when another
announcement came out suggesting a peace
deal with Iran was imminent right before
reports that bombings may take place.
And as I sat there looking at it, I just
kept thinking, how many times have we
been told this before? How many times
have we been here before? Meanwhile,
life keeps getting more expensive.
people are stretched thin. The future,
it feels more uncertain and it starts to
feel like we're just living inside this
constant loop of crisis, promises,
threats, and just waiting. So, before I
sat down to record, I decided to call in
audible. This week, uh, I want to step
back from the headlines for a moment.
And to be a little transparent with you,
uh, I usually don't share a lot about my
own personal life, and I've always
preferred to keep that separation
between what I do here on YouTube and my
own private life, but today I want to be
a little more vulnerable and share where
I'm coming from when I talk about these
issues. There's something that's been
weighing on me personally lately, and I
have a feeling I'm not the only one
that's been carrying this around. When
you spend your life paying attention to
the threats that concern our community,
that awareness, it can start taking up
too much space inside of you and
preparedness. Yeah, it's important, but
it can also become unhealthy if we lose
sight of what we're trying to protect.
And I believe families should be ready,
households should have margin, and
people should not be completely
dependent on systems that they can't
control. But if we're not careful, the
same mindset that helps us prepare for
tomorrow can also rob us of today. Now,
in saying that, I don't think the goal
is to stop preparing, but I do think the
goal is to prepare in a way that helps
us to live with more peace, not in the
way that keeps us trapped in the fear of
what might happen next. And I'll give
you a personal example.
A few days ago, I spent some time
camping at the Carl'sbad State Beach
here in California with my daughter.
It's about an hour drive away and every
time I go there, I wonder why I don't go
more often as it's pretty close to me.
And we spent just a few days near the
water in a pop-up RV. We had beach gear,
boogie boards, and all the little things
that go into a trip like that. And like
most trips, there was plenty of
preparation before we even got there. I
had to get the gear ready, think through
everything that we needed, go through uh
my list in my head and on my phone, get
everything packed, loaded, driven,
unloaded, unpacked, and set up. And if
you've ever dealt with an RV uh pop-up
camper, you know how much is involved in
setting it up. And also, if you've ever
taken kids camping, you know exactly
what I'm talking about. By the time you
finally get everything ready, party
feels like you need a vacation from the
vacation. And even when you're doing
something good for your family, it can
still feel like work getting everyone to
the point where they can finally relax.
But I am excited to build those memories
with her. And then something happened
that really caught me off guard. After
all that preparation, work, and mental
energy spent getting ready, I watched my
daughter run down the beach with her
boogie board. She was happy. She was not
thinking about the checklist, the
unpacking, the setup, the news, the
economy, or anything else going on in
the world. She was just there running
toward the water, playing in the waves,
laughing, and enjoying something
incredibly simple. It reminded me of
those Christmas mornings when you buy a
child a gift, spend time picking it out,
wrapping it, putting it under the tree,
and then half the time they end up
playing with the box. And as adults, we
can laugh at that. But there's a lesson
in that, too. We spend so much time
focused on the contents, the things we
planned for, protected, packed, bought,
prepared, or worried about. And
sometimes the child just sees what we
miss. And the joy was not only in the
thing inside the box. It was the moment,
the imagination, the people in the room,
and the freedom to enjoy something
simple.
And that's what really hit me at the
beach. I had spent so much time
preparing the trip that part of me could
have missed the trip itself. And the
preparation, it mattered because it got
us there. But the point was never the
gear, the checklist, or the perfect
setup. The point was my daughter running
into the water, wanting me there with
her, and giving me a chance to be fully
present for a moment that I'm never
going to get back. And for a little
while, everything got very simple. It
was the ocean, my daughter, the waves,
and that time together. And what
mattered most was not whether everything
went perfectly. The thing that mattered
was that I was there with her and that I
was actually present enough to enjoy it.
And that really hit me harder than I
expected. Um, I'm 50 years old now. I
have two older boys who are nearly grown
up. And I want to be careful in how I
say this because I have a lot of great
memories with them. I love my boys. I've
spent time with them. and I was there
for them in many ways. And this is not
me saying that I miss their childhood or
that I was absent from their lives
because that would not be true. But when
they were younger, and again, I'm just
being vulnerable here with you for a
moment. I battled severe anxiety in a
way that many of you may understand.
There were seasons of my life where even
when I was physically present, my mind
was somewhere else. I could be in the
room, but inside I was thinking about
the future, the next problem, the next
responsibility, or the next thing that
could go wrong. And I could be with my
family, but part of me was bracing for
something I could not even fully name.
And anxiety, it does that to you.
Sometimes it doulls the edge of joy
while life is happening right in front
of you. It tells you that peace has to
wait until every threat is gone, every
bill is handled, every problem is fixed,
and every possible outcome has been
accounted for. And so when I look back
uh now, there are definitely moments
with my older boys that I'd wish I could
have experienced again with the peace
and sense of presence that I now have
because I can see more clearly how
anxiety stole pieces of my attention
that should have belonged fully to them.
And maybe you know that feeling as well.
Maybe it was with your kids, your
spouse, your parents, or someone you
cared about. Maybe it happened when
money was tight, work was uncertain,
health issues were piling up, or the
world just felt heavier than usual. You
were there, and from the outside,
everything may have looked fine. But
inside, your mind was somewhere in
tomorrow, trying to solve problems that
had not happened yet or somewhere in
yesterday, reliving moments you could
not change. And those are hard ways to
live. And over time, they can make even
good memories feel slightly out of
reach. And I think that's why this trip
with my daughter affected me the way it
did with her. In some ways, I feel like
I have been given a second chance. And
again, I don't mean that my relationship
with my boys is somehow finished because
they're still in my life. And I still
spend quality time with them all the
time, but anyone who has raised kids
knows there's a difference between
parenting the little children and
parenting older teens or young adults.
When they're young, they still want you
in the waves with them. They still want
you to watch every little thing they do.
And they still want you to be part of
those simple moments. Then one day,
almost without warning, those seasons
begin to change. The house gets quieter.
Their requests become fewer. Those
little moments that once felt ordinary,
they become memories that you wish you
could step back into for just a few
minutes.
So, when I watched my daughter at the
beach, I felt gratitude, sadness,
relief, and regret because I know how
easy it is to miss life while you're
busy trying to protect it. And that's
really what this video is about. It's
not about camping, and it's not really
about the beach. It's about the danger
of spending so much time preparing for
tomorrow that we stop appreciating the
life that we have today. And I think
that matters deeply for people in the
preparedness community because many of
us carry a kind of awareness that can be
useful but also heavy. I mean we look at
food prices, debt, inflation, job
instability, uh war, civil tension,
cyber attacks, infrastructure problems,
insurance costs, healthc care issues and
weather events. And then what do we do?
We start connecting the dots. We see
patterns and we understand cycles. and
ignorance. It can be bliss, but it's a
luxury that I was never afforded. In
this awareness, it can be necessary
because a household that never prepares
can be hit much harder by a disruption,
a job loss, a storm, a medical issue, or
sudden expense. And that's why we store
food and water. We learn skills, we
build systems, we reduce dependency, and
we try to create margin for our families
before we need it. But if preparedness
becomes constant worry or if paying
attention to the world causes us to stop
paying attention to the people sitting
at our own table, then something's out
of balance. In preparedness, it should
create peace. It should give us enough
stability that we can look our children
in the eye, sit with our spouse, enjoy
meal, take a walk, spend time with our
friend, or sit around a fire without our
mind constantly racing to the next bad
thing.
And that doesn't mean the concerns are
not real. The economy is under immense
pressure right now. Families are under
extreme pressure. Food, insurance, gas,
and utilities are all more expensive.
And many people are working harder while
feeling like the walls are closing in.
But some of the moments we're trying to
protect are already happening right in
front of us. The dinner table is here.
The child asking us to play is already
here. The spouse who needs our attention
is already here. The parent who is
getting older is already here. The
friend who could use a call, they're
there. The quiet evening that could have
been peaceful, it's in front of us. And
if we're not careful, we can spend our
entire lives preparing for our future
hardship while missing the ordinary
gifts right in front of us. And look, I
still believe 100% preparedness, looking
ahead and making sure that I can help
your household prepare with things like
food, water, backup plans, financial
margins, uh, skills, and some ability to
function when systems are strange or
fill. But the point of all that is not
to make fear the center of your life.
The point is to make room for peace,
give your family more options, reduce
panic, keep a bad week from becoming a
disaster, and create enough stability
that you can actually live. And maybe
that's the part that we need to remind
ourselves of more often. We're not
preparing so we can stare at the horizon
every day waiting for something terrible
to happen. Uh, I'll be honest again, I
I've spent many years of my life in the
past doing just that very thing. And
frankly, it was exhausting. But I've
never wavered from my core belief that
we're preparing so that when trouble
comes, it doesn't completely consume us.
And there are times when the most
prepared thing you can do is turn off
the news for a little while and be fully
present with your family. And there are
times when preparedness looks like
checking your pantry. And there are
times when it looks like taking your
kids to the beach and actually getting
in the water with them. And maybe
building core memories with the people
we love is a kind of prep as well. In
our darkest moments, I think we're going
to reach back for proof of life that has
been good before and can be good again.
And we can draw strength from the people
who loved us, the places we felt safe,
and the moments that really reminded us
that we were not alone. So, I took the
time to be fully present with my
daughter at the beach. And I wasn't only
enjoying the moment with her. I was
helping place something in her life that
her future self may one day need. I was
giving her another memory of being
loved, seen, safe, and connected. And
those kinds of memories can become
reserves people will draw from when life
gets hard. And I know that may sound
simple, but I don't think it is small.
If we lose the ability to enjoy the life
in front of us, then we really have to
ask oursel what we're trying to
preserve. And that's one of the hardest
parts of getting older. You start to
realize how quickly seasons change. When
your kids are young, the noise,
questions, interruptions, and endless
needs, they can feel like they're going
to last forever. Then one day, they're
driving, they're working, they're moving
out, and they're building their own
lives, and you realize there was a last
time you picked them up, a last time
they asked you to play, and a last
ordinary moment you did not know was
ending. And I don't think we should live
in regret about those things, but regret
can teach us if we let them. For me, it
has taught me that I don't want anxiety
to get the final word. I don't want fear
of tomorrow to rob me of the people in
front of me today. And I don't want to
be so focused on protecting my family
from future problems that I forget to
enjoy the family I'm trying to protect
right in front of me now. So, if you're
listening to this and you feel worn down
by everything happening in the world, I
understand. Maybe the encouragement
today is not to do more, but to remember
why you're doing it in the first place.
Take the practical steps. Store some
food. Build a pantry. Pay down that debt
while you can. Learn the skill. Fix the
weak point. uh put water away, have the
hard conversations, and make the plan.
But don't live in yesterday or tomorrow.
Don't let the fear of what could happen
steal the beauty of what's still
happening. Take your children to the
beach or camping. Have dinner with your
spouse, call your parents, sit outside
for a few minutes, go for a walk, laugh
with a friend, and notice the ordinary
gifts before they become memories you
wish you had paid more attention to
later. Build your prepping stockpile of
core memories with others. And the goal
is to be informed enough to prepare and
wise enough to still enjoy the life that
you're trying to protect. And that's
what I was reminded of this week at the
beach that I just wanted to share with
you. After all the packing, planning,
setup, and effort, the thing that
mattered most was very simple. It was my
daughter running into the ocean with a
boogie board, smiling, laughing, and
wanting me there with her. And this time
I was there not only physically but with
my intention, my heart and my mind
actually present in that moment. And
that's why I want more of this in this
season of my life. And I hope that for
you as well. Yes, prepare for tomorrow.
But don't live there. If you're taking
the steps, building the pantry, putting
waterway, learning skills, and getting
your house in order, then let that be
enough for today. Do what wisdom
requires, and then give yourself
permission to leave the anxiety behind
for a while. And the life that you're
preparing to protect is not waiting
somewhere in the future. It's already
here in the people around you, in the
ordinary moments that you have and in
the simple things that are easy to
overlook when your mind is always
bracing for what's going to maybe come
next. So yeah, I mean definitely pay
attention, be wise, build margin before
you need it, but also let's remember to
pause, look up, be present, and not miss
the life right in front of us. As
always, stay safe out there.