There was a time not long ago when I woke up every morning and tuned into other people’s lives — the politicians, the pundits, the experts, the voices telling me what to fear, who to blame, and what might happen next. I could quote their opinions better than I could quote my own dreams.
Maybe you know that feeling too.
You think you’re “staying informed,” but somewhere deep down you’re just staying anxious. The more I listened, the more I prepped, planned, worried, and watched — as if somehow my nerves could hold the world together if I just knew enough.
But one day I realized the strangest thing:
While I was glued to the screen watching their lives unfold, nobody on that screen was thinking about mine.
They were all busy building their futures, while I was putting mine on hold.
🌎 The Illusion of Participation
Television, talk shows, podcasts — they all make us feel like we’re part of something important. The anchors talk directly into the camera, the commentators nod as if you’re sitting in the room, and the online channels pull you into endless “behind-the-scenes” clips that promise the truth.
But at the end of the day, they move on. They go home. They get paid. They keep building their brand, their influence, their dream.
And we’re left holding a cup of cold coffee and a head full of noise.
The truth hit me one night when I realized that all the time I spent watching others build their empires could’ve been spent quietly building my own.
🧱 Building the Wrong Stockpile
During those years, I didn’t just consume information — I collected it. And not just information either. I collected supplies, too. Every extra penny after bills went toward stockpiling food, toiletries, batteries, and paper products. I had a grocery store right inside my home.
At first, it felt smart — responsible, even. But over time, it wasn’t preparation anymore. It was panic dressed up as prudence.
When the barn mold destroyed some of what I’d stored, it felt like a loss. Then, oddly, it felt like a lesson. I could almost hear God saying, “Child, you can’t store enough to replace faith.”
Scripture came alive to me in that moment:
“Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear… Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.”
— Matthew 6:25-26
That verse hit different when I realized my “full pantry” had been running on empty faith.
✨ The Turning Point
It didn’t happen in one moment.
It happened over many quiet mornings when I stopped turning on the TV and started turning inward.
I began asking myself questions I hadn’t faced in years:
- What do I want to build?
- What kind of life would bring me peace?
- What skills have I ignored while chasing other people’s updates?
At first, the silence felt strange — almost scary. I’d been living in constant stimulation, and quiet felt like withdrawal. But then something beautiful happened: ideas began to surface, like wildflowers after a long frost.
🌿 Learning, Not Watching
I started learning again — real learning.
One app at a time, one tool at a time, one skill at a time.
I learned Canva, WordPress, Etsy, Pinterest, Amazon KDP — each little platform like a new key unlocking a door I hadn’t known I could open. I stopped worrying about the world’s chaos and started investing in my creativity.
And somewhere in that process, I found my rhythm. I began to dream and build at the same time.
Long workdays don’t drain me anymore. They fill me.
Because now I’m pouring into something that belongs to me.
🕊️ The Nervous System of Peace
When you’re trapped in fear or outrage, your body knows it.
Mine sure did. My heart raced, my hands trembled, and I couldn’t sleep. I thought I was being “vigilant,” but really, I was living in survival mode.
Once I unplugged from all that noise, the calm that came over me was almost holy. I started sleeping through the night. The tension in my shoulders eased. I breathed deeply without realizing I’d been holding my breath for years.
My nervous system didn’t need another headline; it needed hope.
🛤️ Focusing Forward
You can’t build a future while staring in the rearview mirror — or someone else’s window.
The truth is, the people we watch on TV aren’t watching us.
They’re not wondering how your Etsy shop is doing.
They’re not cheering for your dream to grow.
They’re not losing sleep wondering if you’ve found peace.
But you can do all those things for yourself.
If you focus half the time you spend consuming media into creating something — anything — your life begins to change almost immediately. You don’t even have to start big.
Plant a seed.
Write a page.
Learn one new tool.
Take one small bite out of your elephant-sized dream.
And tomorrow, take another.
🌻 The Freedom of Letting Go
I’m not saying it’s wrong to know what’s going on in the world. A little awareness is healthy. But obsession steals your joy.
Today, I check in briefly, then turn my attention back to what I can control:
my work, my words, my goals, and my relationship with God.
Instead of storing food for fear, I now store faith for the future.
Instead of investing in panic, I invest in peace.
And instead of building walls, I build dreams.
That’s the kind of preparation that actually changes a life.
🪴 For Anyone Feeling Stuck
If you’re reading this and feel like you’ve been stuck in the world’s noise — exhausted from the arguing, the fear, the endless headlines — here’s what I can tell you:
Peace doesn’t come from knowing more.
It comes from needing less.
The minute you start attending to your own future, you’ll notice how quiet your spirit gets. You’ll see your ideas come alive again. You’ll remember what you’re capable of.
And one morning, you’ll wake up and realize — the world didn’t stop spinning because you turned off the news. But your world started moving again because you did.
💫 Final Porch Thought
The people on those screens will keep living their stories. They’ll keep building their careers, filming their shows, and collecting their paychecks — whether we watch or not.
But our lives? They only move forward when we show up.
So, if the circus has worn you down, maybe it’s time to step outside, breathe that Appalachian air, and start tending your own garden again.
Turn off the shouting.
Tune back into your soul.
And remember — nobody can build your future but you.