Most of my 20s, I spent Valentine's Day pretending I didn't care. I was alone while couples celebrated. I felt their eyes on me. The guy with no one. Ashamed of what that said about me. The sadness was there. I just wouldn't let myself feel it. Suppressed it. Acted indifferent. Told myself I was fine. Yesterday, I didn't celebrate either. Both our toddler and newborn were sick. Crying all day. Couldn't sleep. My wife and I had maybe 30 minutes together at the end of the day. Nothing about the day was romantic. Yet I was OK. Not just OK as in "not miserable." Back then, getting a partner felt like the solution. And in a way it was. The pain went away when I finally got my first girlfriend. But most people with partners aren't happy on Valentine's Day. They're just not lonely. Looking back, that’s what I felt. The want got satisfied. But it didn't get let go of. Happiness isn't the absence of pain. It's not needing the day to go differently than it does. That shift isn't about finding the right person. You don't have to stop feeling lonely. You have to stop fighting it. And that's usually when love actually has room to find you.

I can see why people believe "A job is not about joy". Many feel trapped in jobs they dislike or even hate. They stay, going through the motions, running on autopilot, never stopping to question if this is still what they want. But in today's world, it's easier than ever to change that. Let's start with the obvious solution: Ikigai. Ikigai = the intersection of: • What you love • What you're good at • What the world needs • What you can be paid for If your job covers all 4, you've found your sweet spot. If it only checks 3/4 boxes, you're probably in a good place but something's missing. Looking at Nikita described: ✅ Loves the product ✅ Does what the world needs ✅ Gets paid (though less than before) ✅ Presumably good at it That's 4/4. That's actually Ikigai. The pay is lower, the chaos is real, the risk is there. But the work itself? Aligned. In my previous job as an engineer, I checked 2/4: ✅ Good at it ❌ Didn't believe it was what the world needed ✅ Paid well ❌ Didn't love it I was quite comfortable but feeling empty. So I transitioned to coaching, my actual Ikigai. Deep down, I always knew personal development was my passion. That's the easy answer: find better alignment. But let's go deeper. Here's what I've learned since then: Even in coaching (my Ikigai), there are parts I could hate: • The admin work—scheduling, invoicing, follow-ups • Inconsistent income early on • Client cancellations If I resisted these parts, I'd suffer. Same work, different internal experience. This is what many people miss: They transition to a different job only to discover the same suffering follows them. Now, being wiser, I genuinely believe: I could have been happy in my engineering job. Not because I'd suddenly love engineering. Because I'd stop resisting what I didn't like about it. This is the deeper work most people never do: They think: "If I just find the RIGHT job, I'll be happy." So they chase passion or alignment (often overlooking that even passion work has hard parts). And when they find it, they discover: there are still parts they don't like. Because every job - even your Ikigai - has hard parts. The ancient Zen saying: "Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water." The tasks don't change. Your relationship to them does. You can chop wood while resisting every swing. Or you can chop wood while at peace with the chopping. So here's what's actually happening when you hate your job: • You dislike your salary → You're in resistance to what you're paid • You hate the chaos → You're in resistance to disorder • You resent the risk → You're in resistance to uncertainty The circumstances create the situation. Your resistance creates the suffering. This is the mechanism: Every time you think "this should be different," you create tension in your body: "I should be paid more." "I want it to be organized." "I need to feel secure." Every time you fight reality, you create suffering. Here's the wild part. Two people can have the EXACT same job. Same pay. Same chaos. Same risk. One person suffers. The other person loves it. You may say the other one has more talent or passion, But still, the only difference is the resistance. Most of what you call talent or passion is just the absence of resistance. There seem to be two paths to finding joy in your work: PATH 1 (Easy answer): Find better alignment • Use Ikigai framework • Transition to work you love • Get all 4 elements in place PATH 2 (Deeper answer): Stop resisting what is • Let go of the resistance • Accept the hard parts • Find peace in the work itself Path 2 is actually the foundation for both. Without learning to let go of resistance, even Path 1 (perfect alignment) won't work long-term. Some people spend their whole life chasing passion, hopping from one job to another. And even when they find a better one, they start to feel uncomfortable after some time. So the answer to "how to find a job you love" is: 1. Notice what you're resisting about your job 2. Realize resistance is just a feeling that you can let go of When you let go of resistance: • Your salary doesn't change. • The chaos doesn't disappear. • The risk is still there. But you stop suffering over them. You stop creating a story about how things "should" be different. You chop wood without resisting the chopping. From this place, something interesting happens: You can see clearly. "Is this job actually aligned with me?" "Do I want to negotiate a raise, or do I rather want to find something else?" But you're deciding from a conscious place, not from your current emotional state. From clarity, not resistance. And sometimes you realize: The job is fine. Even good. You're doing what the world needs. The problem was never the job. It was you fighting the parts you didn't like about it.

Yesterday was my birthday, and I gave myself this gift. I’ll be less active with writing for a bit, moving more into video. My wife stayed with the kids and gave me quiet space for the whole morning. Enough to step back and focus more deliberately. She also booked a table at a café, told me someone was waiting, and covered the bill. She’s the best. Three friends were sitting there. Had a good time. Now, with more clarity, moving forward.

I've been avoiding this for 3 years. Been a bit quiet on X lately. Building something in the background. Just posted my first YT video: A release meditation on the Scarcity of time. Writing came easy. Video? Still working on that. But here we go. Link in the first comment.

Logging off for the weekend. Nature. Family. Rest. Reset. Sometimes the best productivity hack is doing nothing. See you Monday.

You can't think your way out of overthinking.

She has a PhD, two businesses, and published books. But that's not what inspires me about her. Three years ago today, I met my wife. And I quickly learned she was different from any woman I'd met before. She wasn't interested in validation or status. She had already spent: • 21 days on a walking pilgrimage—twice • 7 days in complete darkness at a silent retreat • A year in voluntary service at a hospice, caring for the dying She cared about deeper things. Her love opens me. Her edges sharpen me. Her courage inspires me. Just a month after we met, she went on a planned 14-day silent Vipassana retreat. The separation hurt. We've never been longer apart since then. Because just seven months after we met, she got pregnant. The next year brought our son. Seven months later, we married. Five months after that, our daughter was born. Two young children. No family nearby to help. Both of us trying to work from home while they cry, laugh, demand to be held. We practice attachment parenting—they nap in slings and want to be held all day. It's exhausting. But it's also the perfect training ground. Because she's shown me what it means to stay grounded when I'm reacting. To go deeper when it would be easier to stay surface-level. She's driven and sovereign. She sets boundaries clearly and communicates directly. And she believes in me. Through her, I've become more confident, more sovereign in my own right, better at setting boundaries in relationships. I've also learned to slow down, have more patience, and love more deeply. Our kids reveal the parts of us we didn't know were still there—the patterns we thought we'd overcome, the places where we still need to grow. Even in the chaos—the sleepless nights, the impossible juggle of building businesses while parenting, the layers of growth neither of us expected—I've never felt more joy, peace, and love. She remains my greatest inspiration. Not because of what she's accomplished, but because of who she is. Love you, my darling.

Why you keep getting what you don't want.

Your words either trap you or free you.