Tag: mental-health

What Happens When You Force Your Brain to Sit Still for 5 Minutes? Spoiler: Chaos Ensues

~ David Willis ~ Leave a comment

Hey there, fellow overthinkers and perpetual doers. If you’re anything like me, the idea of “doing nothing” for even a few minutes sounds like a cruel joke. But that’s exactly what I stumbled into while diving into Suleika Jaouad’s The Book of Alchemy. This gem of a book packs 100 daily essays and prompts designed to spark creativity, and today’s entry—titled “Be Slow” and penned by Rachel Schwartzmann—hit me right in my productivity-obsessed soul.

The prompt? Simple: Take 5 minutes to do absolutely nothing. Then, jot down what you experienced, thought, or realized. Sounds zen, right? Call me a skeptic, but I didn’t buy it. How much could really happen in 300 seconds of stillness? My brain’s a hamster wheel on steroids—always spinning with to-dos, random lyrics, and half-forgotten memories. So, this morning, I decided to test it. I plopped down at my desk, set a timer, and committed to writing down every single thought that popped up. No filtering, no judging. Just pure, unadulterated stream of consciousness.

To say it was “active” would be the understatement of the year. Welcome to the wild ride inside my head…

The Raw Dump: My 5-Minute Brain Explosion

Here’s the list, exactly as I scribbled it down in real-time:

•  Costco

•  Chiropractor

•  Anxiety

•  Fan

•  Laughing

•  Office

•  Track Food

•  Three Doors Down – You Love Me But You Don’t Know Who I Am

•  What a croc!

•  Rocky V

•  Three Men and a Little Lady

I know, I know. If you’re reading this and thinking (in the immortal words of Buzz Lightyear), “Wow. You are a sad, strange little man, and you have my pity,” you’re not alone. At first glance, it looks like the ramblings of someone who hit their head on the way to the coffee maker. But stick with me—this chaotic jumble turned out to be surprisingly revealing.

Decoding the Madness: What It All Meant

Sitting still was harder than I expected. My brain rebelled like a toddler in a candy store, constantly yanking me toward tasks or distractions. I had to keep reeling myself back in, refocusing on the quiet. Here’s the breakdown of what each thought actually represented, in the context of my mental whirlwind:

•  Costco and Chiropractor: Boom—errands mode activated. These are both on my afternoon agenda. I need to confirm my chiropractor appointment (calling when they open later), and Costco? Well, who doesn’t need bulk toilet paper? These popped up first, totally unrelated to the exercise, but classic examples of my brain’s “get stuff done” autopilot.

•  Anxiety: Less than a minute in, and there it was—a subtle nudge of unease. I’m wired for action; stillness feels like slacking off. I get anxious when I’m not “productive,” even though I know deep down I could use more of this downtime. It’s a reminder that my natural bend toward hustle isn’t always a virtue.

•  Fan: Finally, a moment of presence. I tuned into the sounds around me—the gentle hum of my Amacool desk fan, the cool breeze keeping me comfy. It sparked a wave of gratitude for my wife, who gifted it to me. She’s a wizard at taking care of the little things that make life smoother. In that quiet, I appreciated how these everyday comforts ground me.

•  Laughing and Office: These tied into the sensory stuff. The “laughing” was me chuckling at how ridiculous this all felt, and “office” was just acknowledging my surroundings—the desk, the hum, the familiarity. A brief nod to the here and now before my mind wandered again.

•  Track Food: Panic strikes again! I remembered I hadn’t logged my morning calories in MyFitnessPal yet. Another to-do item crashing the party, like those little emotions in Disney’s Inside Out fighting for control. Joy? Anger? More like Taskmaster Fear taking the wheel.

•  Three Doors Down – You Love Me But You Don’t Know Who I Am: Right on cue for the Inside Out vibe, this earworm hit. (It’s actually “Let Me Go,” but close enough—my brain’s not great with titles under pressure.) Why this song? No clue. It’s catchy, I love the band, and apparently, my mental DJ thought it was the perfect soundtrack for attempted zen. I could picture the little red Anger character from the movie fuming as the tune looped endlessly.

•  What a croc!: A random outburst of disbelief—or just a random line that came to mind which led me to the face of a little girl in a movie which led me to Tom Selleck which led me to the next thing in the list which is where I first heard the phrase What a croc.

•  Rocky V and Three Men and a Little Lady: And just like that, time travel. Suddenly, I’m back in late November 1990, 12 years old, begging my mom to drop me at the movies. I watched Rocky V (which, oddly, I didn’t even like the previous Rockies that much), then snuck out, bought another ticket, and caught Three Men and a Little Lady. I’d seen the first one, but really? At 12, alone? The real mystery: Why did my parents greenlight this solo adventure? Pre-teen me was living on the edge, apparently.

All of that—in just 5 minutes. From errands to existential gratitude, from Disney analogies to ‘90s movie marathons. It’s a snapshot of my daily mental gymnastics: turning mundane tasks into epic detours through time and emotion.

The Takeaway: Why You Should Try This (Even If It Sounds Nuts)

This little experiment was eye-opening. I had no idea so much was bubbling under the surface in such a short time. It highlighted how my brain defaults to productivity, distraction, and nostalgia—anything to avoid true stillness. But forcing the pause? It brought clarity, gratitude, and even a laugh at the absurdity of it all.

If you’re a skeptic like me, give it a shot. Grab a timer, sit down, and let your thoughts flow unchecked. You might uncover errands you forgot, songs you love, or childhood memories you didn’t know were lurking. In a world that glorifies hustle, “Be Slow” is a radical act of self-care. Who knows? Your 5 minutes could be the most productive non-productive time you’ve had all week.

What about you? Have you tried something like this? Drop your stream-of-consciousness stories in the comments—I’d love to hear how your brain rebels (or relaxes). And if you’re intrigued by the book, The Book of Alchemy is a good one. Slow down, tune in, and see what magic unfolds.

Keep Feeding Your Dreams: A Journey of Growth and Self-Discovery

~ David Willis ~ Leave a comment

For as long as I can remember, one question has followed me like a shadow: “What do you want to be when you grow up?” As a child, it sparked curiosity and wonder. As an adult, navigating multiple careers and now in my mid-40s, it lingers—not as a sign of failure, but as a reminder that growth never stops. I’m not questioning whether I’ve “grown up.” I’ve lived independently for nearly three decades, built a life, and found passions. Yet, the question persists, whispering: Is there more? Is there something inside me still waiting to be discovered?

The answer, I’ve come to believe, should always be yes. Not because we haven’t found what we love or what we’re good at, but because life demands evolution. As the Roman philosopher Seneca once said, “As long as you live, keep learning how to live.” If we stop dreaming, stop exploring, stop stretching, we risk becoming stagnant—like a neglected sourdough starter.

The Sourdough Metaphor: A Lesson in Tending to Growth

I’m a passionate sourdough baker. There’s something magical about the process—whether I’m crafting crusty loaves, gooey cinnamon rolls, or delicious cakes, the possibilities with sourdough are endless. But the heart of it all is the starter, that living culture of flour and water that needs constant care. Neglect it for a few days, and it slows down. Ignore it longer, and a bad spot might form on the surface, or it might start to smell off. Without fresh flour, water, and attention, it loses its vibrancy.

Our dreams and aspirations are much the same. If we don’t feed them with new ideas, new books, new experiences, they stagnate. They start to “smell” of complacency, and in the worst cases, they become irredeemable—not because they were flawed, but because we stopped tending to them. “We are what we repeatedly do,” Aristotle reminds us. If we repeatedly ignore our inner spark, we risk losing it.

But here’s where the metaphor offers hope: a sourdough starter can be revived. Scrape off the bad spot, feed it fresh material, and with a little care, it bubbles back to life. So can we. No matter how long we’ve let our dreams sit untouched, we can always start again.

The Power of Asking Hard Questions

The question “What do you want to be?” isn’t just for kids. It’s a lifelong challenge to keep asking ourselves: Am I doing what I’m meant to do? Am I pursuing the things that set my soul on fire? These questions aren’t meant to haunt us but to push us toward clarity and action.

In my own life, I’ve taken on a personal challenge—what I call the 7-40 Challenge—committing to seven habits daily over 40 days to find my focus and turbocharge my achievement. It’s been a game-changer. It’s forced me to sharpen my focus, to clarify what I want to achieve, and to prioritize my goals. Some dreams move forward; others take a backseat, not because they’re unimportant, but because life requires us to choose what matters most in the moment. As Marie Curie once said, “Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood.” Understanding our priorities helps us move forward without fear.

Staying Alive and Bubbly

Like a thriving sourdough starter, we need to keep ourselves “alive and bubbly.” That means feeding our minds with new ideas, challenging ourselves with new goals, and taking responsibility for turning our dreams into reality. It’s not enough to have a spark of inspiration—you have to do the work. You have to show up every day, even when it’s hard, even when other priorities clamor for attention.

For me, this means continuing to ask: What’s next? What’s inside me that I haven’t explored yet? It means staying curious, staying open, and never settling for stagnation.

A Call to Keep Growing

So, wherever you are in your journey, I encourage you to keep feeding your dreams. Tend to them like a baker tends to their starter—with care, consistency, and a willingness to start again if things go awry. Celebrate your successes, no matter how small, and keep asking the big questions. They’re not a sign of being lost; they’re a sign you’re alive.

“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.”

— Eleanor Roosevelt

Here’s to day 37 of our journeys—may we all keep growing, keep dreaming, and keep bubbling with possibility

Writing Without Fear: Lessons from the 7-40 Challenge

~ David Willis ~ Leave a comment

Hey there, friends! I’m 33 days into the 7-40 Challenge—seven daily habits over 40 days to spark growth and transformation. I am so thankful for this challenge. It has me back in a good space practicing daily. 

One habit I’ve clung to is reading or listening to a book for at least 30 minutes every day. There have even been days where I have gotten in a couple of hours, soaking up ideas like a sponge. It’s become a welcome pause, a moment to breathe and grow. For me, this daily ritual is my way of arming myself with knowledge, clarity, and a whole lot of heart.

A Space to Ponder

This reading habit isn’t just about flipping pages or hitting play on an audiobook. It’s about carving out space to think. I’ve revisited books I read years ago, and let me tell you, it’s like meeting an old friend who’s got new stories to share. With a clearer sense of who I am now, those familiar words hit differently. It’s humbling, sometimes exhilarating, to see old lessons in a new light. As Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “The mind, once stretched by a new idea, never returns to its original dimensions.” That’s what this practice does—it stretches me, challenges me, and pushes me to become a better version of myself.

Journaling with Courage

Today I began diving into Suleika Jaouad’s The Creative Alchemy, a book that’s both a gut-punch and an inspiration. It’s built around a 100-day journaling challenge, born from the author’s battle with a rare form of leukemia. The book is a collection of 100 essays from her community, each paired with a prompt to get you writing. One question stopped me in my tracks: What would you write if you weren’t afraid?

Whoa. That made me think. Are there topics I am staying away from because I am afraid of them? After considering for a few, I believe this would be my answer:

If fear wasn’t in the driver’s seat, I’d write about my life through the lens of lessons learned. Some parts of my story? They’re sacred, private, and mine to keep. But others—those universal moments of struggle, triumph, and the messy beauty of being human—those are meant to be shared. I want to write stories that uplift, that remind people they’re not alone. I’m inspired by Zig Ziglar, who said, “You can have everything in life you want, if you will just help enough other people get what they want.” His words weren’t just about sales—they were about connection, service, and lifting others up. That’s the kind of writing I’d do: stories that resonate, that spark hope, that build bridges.

Faith, Love, and Shared Humanity

Writing without fear would mean living with intention. It would force me to be deliberate about my time, my words, and how I share my faith in God and my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I’ve never been shy about being a Christian, but I’ll admit I’ve sometimes held back personal stories, worried they might make someone squirm. Here’s what I’m learning: discomfort often comes from how a story is shared. If I approach it with love, empathy, and a desire to share God’s love, the walls come down, and understanding takes root.

My goal—whether I’m writing or speaking—is to share God’s love through my story. I want to shine a light on the struggles we all face, the shared humanity that binds us. As Charles Dickens put it in A Tale of Two Cities, “We are all fellow-passengers to the grave.” If we embraced that truth—that we’re all in this together—the world would feel less divided. I believe in right and wrong, and my faith is my anchor. Sharing stories of hope, resilience, and redemption is how I’d write if fear didn’t hold me back.

Choosing Courage

This 7-40 Challenge has shown me that fear is a choice. Every day, when I carve out time to read, I’m choosing to grow. I’m choosing to challenge myself. I’m choosing to live with intention. If I can take that courage to the page, I can write the stories that matter—stories that inspire, uplift, and remind us we’re all fellow travelers on this crazy road called life.

So, here’s to writing without fear. Here’s to sharing the lessons learned. And here’s to trusting that our stories, when told with love, can light the way for others. As C.S. Lewis once said, “You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.” Let’s start where we are. Let’s write without fear.

So, tell me—what would you write if you weren’t afraid?

Day 30 of the 7-40 Challenge: A Walk, a Stranger, and a Lesson in Gratitude

~ David Willis ~ 1 Comment

Today marks day 30 of my 7-40 Challenge—a 40-day journey where I’ve committed to practicing seven habits daily to better myself and the world around me. Ten days to go, and I’m already overflowing with gratitude. This milestone feels like a victory, not just for sticking with it but for the unexpected moments that have reshaped my perspective along the way. Today, I want to share a story from my lunch break—a simple walk that turned into a profound reminder of what it means to be thankful.

It was an unusually cool August day in Oklahoma, where triple-digit heat is the norm this time of year. The temperature hovered in the low 70s, a rare gift that made my daily half hour walk feel like a treat. I was strolling through downtown, earphones in, soaking in the fresh air and the rhythm of my steps. The walk itself is always a highlight—part exercise, part mental reset. But today, it became something more.

As I paused at a crosswalk, a voice broke through my music. “Young fella, young fella! Can I talk to you for a minute?” I turned to see an elderly man, his clothes worn and his face weathered, clearly someone who’d been living on the streets. I popped out an earphone, smiled, and said hello. He grinned back, his eyes bright despite his circumstances, and said, “Young fella, can you spare 87 cents?”

Eighty-seven cents. The specificity caught me off guard. Either this man knew exactly what he needed—down to the penny, tax included—or it was the cleverest pitch I’d ever heard. I couldn’t help but chuckle, especially since he called me “young fella” at an age when I’m starting to feel more “old fella” than “young.” I reached into my pocket, and pulled out what I had…a $5 bill. I handed it to him and said, “How about five dollars?”

His reaction was pure gold. His eyes widened in what seemed like genuine disbelief, and he broke into a wide, toothy smile. “Thank you!” he said, offering me a fist bump. “God bless!” That moment hit me like a ton of bricks. Here was a man, likely facing hardships I can’t even imagine, radiating gratitude for a simple $5 bill. If that’s not a reality check, I don’t know what is.

I wish I could’ve stayed longer, sat on that curb, and heard his story. Why 87 cents? What brought him to that corner? What was his life like? Despite his circumstances, his smile was infectious, his gratitude palpable. It made me pause and reflect on my own life. I’m not sharing this to pat myself on the back—far from it. This encounter humbled me. It reminded me that even in the face of struggle, gratitude can shine through. This man, with so little, was thankful for what I could give. That’s the posture I want to carry in my heart.

The 7-40 Challenge has been about building habits, but moments like this remind me why I’m doing it. Life is a gift. I’ve been provided for, even through tough times. I’ve worked hard, sure, but I’m blessed beyond measure—a family that is healthy and safe, a roof over my head, food on my table, a warm bed to sleep in. These are things I can so easily take for granted. Meeting this man today was a clear reminder to stay grounded, to use the talents and resources I’ve been given to better myself and the world around me.

I don’t know if that gentleman will ever read these words, but I’m grateful for him—for his smile, his gratitude, and the chance to pause and reflect on that downtown corner. As I head into day 31 of the challenge, I’m carrying his lesson with me: gratitude isn’t just for the big wins or the easy days. It’s for the small moments, the unexpected encounters, the reminders that we’re all connected.

So, I’d love to hear from you. Have you had a moment recently that made you stop and feel grateful? Share your story in the comments—I’m all ears. Day 30 is in the books, and I’m ready for tomorrow. Here’s to day 31 and the lessons it brings.

See you then.

What Do You Want and How Bad Do You Want It? The Fuel That Ignites Your Dreams

~ David Willis ~ 2 Comments

Hello there. Pause for a moment and ask yourself: What do you want, and how bad do you want it? This isn’t about fleeting wishes or goals jotted down on a whim. It’s about that deep, burning desire that jolts you awake in the morning and dances in your dreams at night. The kind of want that demands every ounce of your focus, your drive, your relentless spirit. What do you want so bad that you could become obsessed with it? Because half-hearted efforts don’t leave a legacy—they barely leave a mark. To make something real, you’ve got to dive in with everything you’ve got.

As Benjamin Franklin once said, “Energy and persistence conquer all things.” You have to know the goal you are after. But, it’s not just about what you want; it’s about how fiercely you’re willing to chase it. Let’s unpack this through a story from my own life that still stings years later, a lesson in what happens when you don’t bring your all.

The Half-Hearted Hustle: A Wake-Up Call

Remember being a kid, sent on a mission by your parents? “Find that lost toy” or “Clean your room.” You’d poke around for a minute, call it impossible, and slink back with excuses. That’s the default for too many of us—minimal effort, maximum cop-outs. But life doesn’t reward those who give up quickly; it honors those who push through.

When I was 18, a rookie reporter for my college newspaper, I learned this the hard way. My editor tasked me with covering a speaker whose story was, in her words, interesting and story worthy. She wanted the heart of his experience—what he’d done, seen, and endured—to captivate our readers. Simple enough? Nope. Instead of diving in, I treated it like a casual outing. I brought a date to the event, chatted through the talk, and left early to get my date home. When I sauntered back to my editor with a lazy “No story there,” she looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

“Are you out of your mind?” she snapped. “He was a rescue worker at the Oklahoma City bombing. Of course there’s a story—a remarkable one!”

She was right. The 1995 bombing was a national tragedy, and this man had been in the thick of it. My apathy had blinded me. Desperate to save face (and my job), I did what I should’ve done from the start: I tracked him down, got him on the phone, and asked every question I could think of.

What I heard was unforgettable, even 28 years later I can remember his voice as he told me the events. He described arriving at the chaotic scene, pulling bodies and parts of bodies from the rubble amid dust and despair. He described hope mixed with exhaustion as the work wore on. How the team’s morale crumbled when they learned it was a domestic attack, not foreign terrorism. The weight of it impacted him greatly. He couldn’t stay in his job. It drove him to attempt suicide multiple times one night. Only through his family’s prayers—especially his mother’s—did he find the strength to seek help and heal. Two years after the tragedy, he was sharing his story to inspire others.

That interview turned “no story” into the story—a raw testament to resilience. As Winston Churchill said during World War II’s darkest hours, “If you are going through hell, keep going.” That rescuer lived it, and I almost missed it because I didn’t want it bad enough.

From “No Way” to “I Made It Happen”

That screw-up was a gut check. If I’d given that assignment my full focus from the start, I wouldn’t have needed a second chance. But that’s the power of tenacity: It uncovers gold where laziness sees only dirt. When you decide what you want and pursue it with everything you’ve got, you don’t just chase a goal—you transform yourself. You go from “There’s no story” to “This is my story, and here’s how I shaped it.”

Think about your own dreams. What do you want? A thriving career? A stronger family? A passion project that lights you up? Now, how bad do you want it? Progress comes from relentless commitment, not fleeting bursts of effort.

Albert Einstein, who changed the world by wrestling with impossible problems, put it best: “It’s not that I’m so smart, it’s just that I stay with problems longer.” That’s the edge—sticking with it when others walk away.

Live with Fire: Your Call to Action

I’m older now, and I’ve lived enough to know I don’t want passive, uninspired days. I want to live on purpose. With focus. With impact. I want to pour out the love of God and goodness into the world, sharing my story to lift others up. Because when you chase what you want with every fiber of your being, you don’t just achieve—you become something greater. I am still a work in progress, but thankfully I keep walking further down this road.

So, ask yourself again: What do you want, and how bad do you want it? What are you willing to sacrifice, to endure, to make it real? Answer that, and you’re already closer to turning your dreams into reality. As Nelson Mandela said after decades of fighting for freedom, “It always seems impossible until it is done.” Now let’s go write our stories—with fire.