It’s July 8, and I’m still thinking about the fireworks.
Not just the kind that light up the sky, but the kind that spark something deeper within—the kind that remind me of life’s challenges, choices, and the lessons they bring.
On the morning of the Fourth, I found myself reflecting on what the day would bring. Fireworks have always been a source of anxiety for me—not because I don’t enjoy them, but because of how they disrupt my nervous system. I can’t control when the noise will go off, and that unpredictability stirs something deep inside me.
As a child, evenings were often the hardest part of the day. They felt unpredictable, uncontrollable, and filled with a kind of tension that left a lasting mark on my nervous system. That helplessness shaped me in ways I’m still uncovering.
Now, as an adult, I’ve learned there’s a difference between being helpless and being powerless. I can’t stop the fireworks from going off, no matter how much I want to. That’s powerlessness. But being powerless doesn’t mean being helpless. I still have choices.
This year, I made a choice that was different—and I didn’t make it alone. My wife, with her incredible patience and compassion, helped me navigate the day. She gave me the space to feel what I was feeling, even when moments of irritation got the better of me and I said or did things I didn’t mean. She didn’t take it personally. Instead, she stayed curious, asking questions and helping me uncover what I needed.
Together, we made a plan. We went down early to find a great spot for the fireworks, knowing I could watch as much or as little as I wanted. When the fireworks started, I stayed for a few minutes, taking in the beauty of the moment. Then, when I was ready, we jumped on our bikes and headed home. By the time I got into bed, the fireworks were over, and my heart rate was calm.
This experience reminded me of something important about leadership and relationships: we all have challenges, and they don’t always look the same. Some of us are deeply aware of what we’re struggling with, while others are navigating challenges they can’t quite name.
When we have patience and compassion for others—especially when we take the time to ask questions and understand what they’re working through—we create space for growth and connection. The same is true for ourselves. When we ask more questions of ourselves, we discover what we need. And when we know what we need, we can ask for support in ways that help us navigate life’s challenges.
The Fourth of July is supposed to be about freedom. But freedom isn’t just about fireworks, barbecues, or patriotic songs. It’s about the deeper work of becoming free within ourselves—healing from the past, taking responsibility for the present, and seeking truth, even when it’s uncomfortable.
We are all connected. We can’t harm others without eventually harming ourselves. And in the end, we take very little with us. Not our possessions. Not our status. What we carry forward—what truly lasts—is our healing, our love, and our growth.
So today, I ask myself: what do I want this day to mean?
Do I want quiet? Maybe. Do I want peace? Absolutely. But most of all, I want truth. I want to live in reality. To honor where I’ve been, who I’ve become, and the choices I now have.
I’m no longer helpless. I can care for myself. I can love the parts of me that have survived and grown.
And as a leader, I can extend that same care and understanding to others, knowing that we’re all navigating our own fireworks—some loud, some quiet, and some we don’t even recognize yet.
Today, I remember: I am safe. I am loved. And I am free—not because of fireworks, but because I continue to choose love over fear, and truth over illusion.
Happy Independence Day—whatever that means to you.
What about you?
What are the “fireworks” in your life—the things you can’t control but are learning to navigate? How do you find freedom in the midst of challenges? I’d love to hear your thoughts.