Where the Water Falls (Because Even Small Ripples Can Reach Far Places.)



I graduated today.

No cap, no gown. No champagne pop or emotional slideshow. Just a cheesy little Teams ceremony, a few Little jokes, with the team that went through so much together in short time, and a quiet moment when they said we were done. Cohort training complete. They released us into the wild.

So here I am—on the porch, watching the water drop from Jamie Lee’s little waterfall. There’s sunlight on my feet. No Team pings. No breakout rooms. No scripted claim scenarios to run through one more time.

I thought I’d feel something bigger. A spark, a fire, some kind of “next chapter” energy. But what I feel instead is stillness—and maybe that’s the point.

We’re all so conditioned to chase the next thing. The hustle. The grind. But maybe this little moment—graduated, unplugged, sitting in the sun with a homemade DIY waterfall and a fake diploma—is the actual reward.

A couple months ago, after more than a decade away, I started blogging again. Not because I’m building a brand or looking for clicks, but because when I went searching for stories like mine, I didn’t find many. Plenty of data. Plenty of opinions. But not a lot of actual voices. Not a lot of authentic ones, anyway.

I don’t blog as a side hustle—though if it ever buys me a coffee or a subscription to some fun paid app, I won’t complain. I write to remember what life looks like in these small, ordinary moments. I write about the things I’m seeing now and the things I saw long ago, just to see how they still fit into my story.

And maybe—just maybe—it helps somebody else. Someone adjusting to a new job. Someone dealing with change. Someone driving through the same little town. Maybe they read it and think, yeah, I know that feeling.

After two months of blogging, I’ve had about 1,700 views and zero comments. I’ve done a little promotion—but not much. Still, every time I check Google Analytics and see readers from Australia, China, or Canada, it stops me. I don’t know anyone there. Maybe it was a search engine fluke. Maybe they clicked away in five seconds.

Or maybe they stuck around. Maybe they thought, this is cool. I might come back.

Either way, I find that amazing.

So yeah, I graduated today. From cohort training. From trainee status. From the last chapter. And I’m easing into whatever comes next—with a porch, some sun, a DIY waterfall, and a quiet corner of the internet where I get to tell the story as it unfolds..

Here’s to the next step—however quiet, however small. May it matter more than we know.

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