What happens when you stop postponing life for "someday"? I'm spending my 33rd year running 12 experiments to answer one question: How do you build a state of joy that coexists with the uncertainty of life? This is autoethnographic research—documenting real-time experiments in creative expression, intentional living, and deprogramming from hustle culture. No guru shit, just messy truth from the wilderness.

January is loud. Everyone seems to have a plan, a vision, a glow-up timeline. Meanwhile, I’m sitting with a cup of tea, watching the trees rest, wondering why we expect ourselves to bloom on command.

This is a reflection from the space between endings and beginnings — about pressure, self-trust, and what it means to build a life without forcing clarity before it arrives.