I Almost Forgot - This is the Whole Point

It’s Sunday morning and everything feels still. I’m sitting on the back porch, a homemade iced chai sweating beside me, watching the rain fall in a steady rhythm. Not a downpour, just enough to hush the world around me. There’s thunder far off in the distance - low, soft, almost like it’s passing through politely.

Sadie is here, sitting beside me. Her patience is unmatched as I gently brush through her thick coat. She lets me work the knots out one-by-one, her eyes half closed, soaking in the peace as much as I am.

It’s quiet out here. Peaceful. And yet, my mind isn’t fully present.

I’m here - but I’m also somewhere else entirely.

Thinking. Wondering. Wrestling.

I’m thinking about the future, mostly. About all the decisions that seem to stack up in your twenties.

Grad school keeps circling in my head. What will it mean for our finances? Will we have to move? What will that mean for my career (short-term and long-term)?

And then, beyond that…

Kids. When? Where? What kind of life will we build for them? And who will help us raise them - daycare, family, a village of close friends?

And what about Memphis? Is this the place? Or just a place?

It’s all a swirl. None of it has neat answers. And if there are answers, they shift depending on the day.

And then, in the middle of all this spiraling, it hits me: This is the whole point.

You’ve probably seen it too. Those clips floating around Instagram and TikTok of people capturing small, seemingly ordinary moments - sipping coffee, hugging a friend, dancing in the kitchen - paired with the caption: “I almost forgot… this is the whole point”.

And they’re right. The point isn’t to have everything figured out. It’s not about having the perfect five-year plan or knowing the exact answer to every life decision. It’s about living. About being present. About feeling the air on your skin, listening to the rain, brushing out your dog on a quiet Sunday morning.

That realization pulls me right back. Back to Sadie’s soft golden fur beneath my hand. Back to this porch. This house. The first home Ryan and I made together. Our people - right across the street. The friends just down the road. The life we’re slowly and intentionally building.

I don’t know what the future holds. I truly don’t. But I know I’ll want to remember these days.

Because one day, I’ll look back on this time - and I’ll see it for what it is. A chapter worth saving. And I’ll want to remember how it felt to be fully here - even with all the uncertainty and unanswered questions.

A memory wrapped in stillness. A reminder that life isn’t just about the decisions and the milestones, but all the moments in between.

This right here is the whole point. And I almost forgot.

All is well,

H