We’ve taught ourselves that our self-worth is directly attached to how many “to-dos” we check off our list before laying down to sleep.

We’ve convinced ourselves that if we simply tell enough people why we’re right and they’re wrong the world will be a better place.

As difficult as the sadness and despair was from losing my parents, those emotions were small compared to my struggle with severe anxiety and depression.

Failure feels like an awful word describing a terrible condition. As a result, most people avoid it at all costs.

A problem arises when we teach ourselves that there’s something wrong with us if every step of the path isn’t filled with delight.

Google (and all the information it delivers instantly) has tricked us into believing the myth that certainty is attainable. It isn’t – nor will it ever be.

Eventually the law of diminishing returns kicks in and you realize that there’s only so many productive hours in each day.

The problem is that we spend countless hours worrying about a lot of different interests, but rarely do anything meaningful to make an impact.