My dear Thomas, James, and Margot,
Life will give you laughter and joy, purpose and pain, love and loss, triumph and failure. It will give you people—some who stay, some who go. But one of the few constants it will offer you is this: at many points along the way, you will be alone.
Not in a tragic way. Not as punishment. Simply as truth. You will be alone when you make the biggest decisions of your life. You’ll be alone in the late-night silence of uncertainty, in the early morning thoughts that press on your chest before the world wakes up. You’ll be alone in your dreams and in your fears. You’ll even feel alone when you’re deeply loved. That is the paradox of the human experience—we are never truly alone, and yet we feel it deeply and often.
"All alone! Whether you like it or not,
Alone will be something you'll be quite a lot." —Dr. Seuss
That quote stayed with me from the first time I read it. At first it sounded like a warning, but over time I realized it was an invitation. An invitation to build a relationship with yourself so grounded, so whole, so unshakable, that you stop fearing the moments of aloneness and start finding power in them.
Because here’s the truth: the person you will spend the most time with in this life is you. You will live in your own mind every single day. You will live in your own heart. No one else will ever know your full thoughts. No one will feel the pulse of your inner world quite like you do. Which means, if you don’t learn to befriend your own silence, to comfort your own heart, to guide your own thoughts, then being alone will always feel like suffering. But if you do learn to find peace in your own presence, there will be nothing in this world you cannot face.
And I promise you, my loves, that’s possible. I’ve lived it.
I’ve stood in places of heartbreak and fear where no one could reach me. And I’ve stood in crowded rooms where everyone could see me, but no one truly knew me. But in time, I learned how to stand tall in those spaces. I learned how to sit with the weight of loneliness and not run from it. I learned how to master my thoughts and hold my own hand when no one else could. And through that, I found an incredible gift: the realization that if I could be at peace within myself, no one could ever truly take that away.
I want that for you.
So master your thoughts. Don’t let them run wild. Don’t let them turn against you. Learn to speak to yourself with kindness, with discipline, with courage. Your mind is the most powerful tool you will ever have—learn to use it. Learn to quiet it. Learn to steer it when it drifts toward fear or self-pity.
And tend to your heart. You will love people who do not love you back. You will give pieces of yourself to people who do not know what to do with them. You will ache for connection. You will long to be understood. All of this is part of being alive. But do not let that longing convince you that you are incomplete without someone else. You are already whole. You are already enough.
Love others fully. Let people in. Build connection wherever you go. But never lose the ability to stand alone. Because life will test you. It will give you seasons of separation, of silence, of standing on your own. And when those seasons come, I want you to be ready. Not hardened. Not bitter. But strong. Rooted. Calm.
Know this too: while I may not always be by your side, I am with you. Always. You carry my love in your blood and in your bones. When you are alone, and the night feels cold and long, I want you to remember me. Not to make you sad, but to remind you that you are never alone in the ways that matter. I will never stop loving you. Not even for a breath.
Find peace within yourself, and you will find peace everywhere. Because when you no longer fear solitude, you begin to see the world more clearly. You stop chasing empty noise and start creating real meaning. You stop waiting to be saved and start living with power and presence.
You don’t need to be constantly surrounded to feel full. You don’t need approval to feel worthy. You don’t need noise to feel alive.
You just need to know who you are.
You just need to love yourself well.
You just need to remember that the quiet is not a punishment—it’s a practice.
So when you find yourself alone, breathe. Listen. Settle into the stillness. And smile. Because you are not broken. You are becoming.
With all my love,
Dad
If today’s episode resonated with you, share it with someone who might need a reminder that solitude isn’t emptiness—it’s strength. Follow along for future episodes, and know that the quiet isn’t something to fear, but a place to grow.
Until next time—keep going, keep growing, and keep becoming.
