Trusting Myself Enough To Rest, What is Success Supposed To Prove, The Duality Of Being | FRLN 145

My 20-year Stanford reunion is this week.

And apparently, part of me thought I needed to show up with a progress report.

Strong. Lean. Full of energy. Life going great.

I’m excited to reconnect with my classmates. I’m deeply grateful I got to attend Stanford, graduate, and meet so many incredible people.

But being sick recently has helped me notice something else: I had a pretty specific picture of the version of myself I wanted to bring back to campus.

And that version wasn’t spending his days feeling fatigued and wondering when he could play pickleball again.

I’ve been dealing with lingering fatigue that has kept me from doing a lot of what I love. This weekend, I got to do more again. I’m definitely feeling better, but I’m still not back to full capacity.

It’s been frustrating. It’s also brought up a question that reaches well beyond the gym or a college reunion:

How much pressure do we put on ourselves to make our lives look like they’re going well — even when we already have so much to be grateful for?

Let’s get into it.

FIT — Trusting Myself Enough To Rest

I fucking love being physically active.

Lifting. Pickleball. Feeling strong and capable. Getting absorbed in a game and laughing with the people on the court.

For roughly six months, I’ve been playing pickleball and/or strength training nearly every day, with very few rest or recovery days. And I’ve loved getting to spend so much of my life doing those things.

Then came this stretch of fatigue.

On Friday, I was able to play two hours of pickleball. On Saturday, I got in a decent workout. Getting to do those things again felt like progress.

But by Saturday afternoon, I was pretty wiped.

On Sunday, I did about 45 minutes of pickleball drilling and felt pretty tired for the rest of the day. Last night, I spent 11.5 hours in bed. And this morning? Better, but still fatigued.

Apparently, my preferred recovery timeline did not get approved.

I’m definitely improving. It’s just taking way longer than I want to get back to my full capacity. And I’m noticing how quickly a little more energy becomes an invitation in my mind to do more.

I talked about this with my good friend and mentor, JL Collins, author of The Simple Path to Wealth.

I told him about a pattern I’ve noticed over the last several years. I tend to have a ridiculous amount of energy and go hard for long stretches. I train, play, work, travel, socialize, and create. Then, every so often, I end up under the weather for a week or two and spend a lot more time resting.

It can feel like my body finally says:

That’s enough. Sit the fuck down.

JL helped me look at that pattern with more gratitude. He pointed out what an awesome life I get to live — having the energy, freedom, and ability to do so much of what I love. He also suggested that maybe there’s a rhythm here I could stop fighting so hard.

And I agreed. I have so much to be grateful for.

His perspective also helped me notice something about how I’ve been treating myself: I tend to think of the high-energy version of me as the “real” me. The tired version becomes a problem to solve so I can get back to being myself.

But what if they’re both me?

What if expansion and rejuvenation both belong in my life?

I’m still learning how to make room for recovery before I feel forced into it. And while I’m in this quieter period, I’m noticing how much life is happening here, too.

I told JL that when I have less physical energy, I often do a lot of mental, emotional, and spiritual work. I spend less energy out in the world and more time exploring my inner world.

That’s been true lately. I’ve been examining achievement and self-worth, my attachment to physical performance, and the pressure I was putting on myself around the reunion. I’ve been doing EFT, tarot, journaling, and reflecting on doing versus being.

There’s real growth happening in those conversations with myself.

I can miss pickleball and appreciate that. I can want my energy back and give myself permission to be where I am today.

I can trust my fire enough to let it rest.

That’s the idea I’m practicing. And this weekend showed me where the practice gets difficult: the moment I feel better, I want to use that energy.

A more recent tarot reading gave me three prompts to reflect on: The Hermit, Tin, and The Sword. I took them as an invitation to listen, adapt, and choose. Listen to what I’m actually feeling. Adapt the plan to the energy I have. Make a choice without bargaining with myself all afternoon.

Feeling better is not a command to perform.

I’ve spent so much of my life turning energy into output. If I feel good, I train, work, create, or compete. But I’m practicing letting some energy simply be energy, without immediately spending it to prove I’m back.

I still love movement. I still want to play. I’m also learning that I can adjust my plans without making that mean I’m less athletic, less disciplined, or less myself.

My body doesn’t have to scream before I listen.

RICH — What Is Success Supposed To Prove

This whole experience has me thinking about the way we relate to money, too.

A reunion can bring up a familiar set of questions. What do you do now? Where do you live? What have you been up to?

Perfectly normal questions. But it’s easy to hear an imaginary question underneath them:

How well did your life turn out?

And suddenly, your career, income, home, or net worth can start to feel like evidence you’re supposed to present.

I recognize that pull toward achievement. I’ve written before about how disorienting it was to leave my sales career after so many years of being a top performer. I had built financial freedom, yet still had work to do around who I was when I wasn’t producing the next impressive result.

It’s possible to change your circumstances faster than you change your expectations of yourself.

You can have more freedom and still feel pressure to justify how you’re using it. You can reach a goal and immediately start looking for the next one that will finally let you relax.

If every achievement becomes something you have to defend or outdo, when do you get to enjoy what you’ve built?

I love goals. I love progress. I love helping people build wealth and create more options for their lives.

I also think it’s worth asking what we want those options for.

More time with people we love? Work we enjoy? The ability to take a break? More room for play, adventure, and curiosity?

Those things matter even when they don’t make for an impressive answer at a reunion.

Here’s a question I’m sitting with:

If nobody I wanted to impress ever found out about this decision, would I still want to make it?

That applies to what we buy, the work we take on, and the goals we pursue.

The answer might be yes. Great. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something big.

But if the answer changes when you remove the audience, that’s useful information about whose approval is influencing the life you’re building.

LIFE — The Duality Of Being

I’m getting better. And I’m still tired.

I’m grateful for this quieter period. And I’m ready for it to be over.

I love my ambition. And I want to feel worthy when I’m doing absolutely nothing.

Two things can be true at the same time. I’m learning to give both of them room.

That’s what the duality of being means to me right now. I can be strong and need care. I can want to grow and accept where I am. I can deeply love the life I have and feel frustrated by a part of it.

I notice how quickly I try to resolve those tensions. If I’m grateful, shouldn’t I stop complaining? If I’m improving, shouldn’t I be able to do more? If I’ve learned something meaningful from this experience, shouldn’t I be at peace with it by now?

Apparently, I can learn the lesson and still be annoyed that I’m missing pickleball and missing putting in the reps at the gym to stay jacked.

That feels a little more honest.

In an earlier tarot reading, I pulled Strength, Ash, and The Forest. I use these readings as prompts for reflection, and those cards helped me think about the different ways strength can show up.

I know how to push, compete, and keep going. Strength invited me to consider gentleness and patience, too. The image of a powerful tiger as an ally gave me a line I keep returning to:

My body is my ally, not my servant.

Ash and The Forest gave me another useful image: the quiet after a fire, with room for new growth. I began thinking about expansion and rejuvenation as two parts of my life. I’ve spent plenty of time celebrating the version of me who trains, creates, and goes hard. I’m learning to extend that same acceptance to the version who needs to slow down.

Both are me.

I don’t want to lose my ambition. I fucking love my ambition. I also want to release some of the fear, pressure, and proving that can get tangled up in it.

Then, this morning, I asked:

What do I need to understand, trust, or practice while my body is healing but my energy has not fully returned?

I pulled Three of Water, The Drowned King, and Aletheia.

Three of Water brought my attention to celebration and connection. The description even mentioned reunions and graduations, which made me smile given where I’m headed this week.

It reminded me that fatigue and joy can coexist. I can be disappointed that I don’t have my usual energy and still enjoy a conversation, laugh with Carly, or look forward to seeing an old friend. There are ways to participate in life that fit the capacity I actually have.

The Drowned King brought up my attachment to identity. I love being energetic, strong, disciplined, and capable. Those are real parts of me. But when they’re less available, I can start treating myself like I’m somehow less me.

Being tired doesn’t take away my curiosity, my relationships, or everything I’ve lived and learned. My athletic side matters deeply to me, and there’s more to me than what I can physically do today.

Then came Aletheia — truth.

The truth is that I’m improving and still recovering. I’m grateful and impatient. I’m excited about Stanford and unsure how much energy I’ll have.

Accepting where I am doesn’t mean I’ve stopped wanting things to change.

It means I can make choices based on what’s true today. I can want to do more and choose to rest. I can look forward to a gathering and leave room to take a break. I can enjoy a good moment without asking it to prove that I’m completely back.

I’ve been using EFT tapping — tapping on meridian points — to work through these feelings. I acknowledge the frustration and the fear of losing momentum, then practice giving myself permission to be here without turning today’s capacity into a judgment about my worth.

And I don’t need to make every quiet day profound. Some days, I reflect and grow. Some days, I just rest.

All of this brings me back to Stanford.

I don’t need to show up as proof that my life turned out well.

I can be proud of the life I’ve built and arrive with parts of it still unresolved. I can celebrate what I’ve accomplished and be honest about what I’m working through.

I’m grateful I got to attend Stanford. Grateful I graduated. Grateful for the people I met and the experiences that shaped me. Grateful that 20 years later, I get to go back.

There are people I’m excited to see and stories I want to hear. I want to learn who my classmates have become, including everything that won’t fit into a quick answer about their careers. I imagine plenty of us will arrive with things we’re proud of alongside things we’re still figuring out.

I still hope I feel fantastic when I get there. I’m letting that be a hope, rather than a requirement for having a meaningful experience.

I don’t have to arrive as the version of myself I planned. I can arrive as the version of myself that is true.

Maybe there’s a place in your life where you’re struggling to let two truths exist together.

You love your family and need time to yourself. You’re proud of your progress and want something to change. You’re excited about a new chapter and sad about the one that’s ending.

Can you acknowledge both without making either one wrong?

That’s what I’m practicing this week. Ambition and acceptance. Gratitude and frustration. The desire to expand and the need to rejuvenate.

I’m still tired. I’m still impatient. I’m also excited about the week ahead.

All of those things get to be true.

ACTION — Update Your Progress Report

Pick the one that feels most relevant this week:

• FIT: Ask: “Am I making this plan based on the capacity I have today, or the capacity I wish I had?” Give yourself permission to adjust it.

• RICH: Look at one purchase or goal you’re considering. Ask: “Would I still want this if nobody I wanted to impress ever knew about it?” Let the answer help you clarify what matters to you.

• LIFE: Choose one form of joy that fits the energy you actually have. A conversation, time with someone you love, or simply enjoying something without needing to accomplish anything.

For me, the intention is simple:

I’m grateful I get to go back. I’m excited to reconnect. And I can arrive as I am.

In the meantime, I’m holding onto this image:

I’m not losing my fire. I’m giving the forest time to regenerate.

To your health, wealth, and happiness,

— Justin David Carl