Finding the Right Rhythm Again

Next week, my youngest son turns three.

If you’ve ever had a three-year-old, you already know where this is going.

Lately, his behavior has been… spirited. Big feelings. Bigger reactions. A lot more resistance than we remember with our other two. My wife and I have done the normal parent math—Is this just the age? Did we do something differently? Is this a phase or a preview?—and we keep landing in the same place: it’s probably normal, but it still rattles you when you’re in it.

Parenting has a way of surfacing questions you didn’t know you were carrying. Not just about your kids, but about yourself—your patience, your expectations, your rhythm.

That word—rhythm—has been following me everywhere lately.

After the long Christmas-to-New-Year stretch, I thought I was ready to be fully “back.” Instead, I found myself feeling off-kilter. Even small disruptions felt heavier than they should have. I stopped drinking coffee a few weeks ago, and while my stomach initially felt better, the last few days have been rough again—another reminder that change, even good change, takes time to settle.

I think I’ve been relearning something simple: rhythm isn’t a luxury. It’s a stabilizer.

That realization followed me through a string of meaningful moments this week.

It started at a StartUp Fayette event, where my longtime friend Jeff Bartholomew spoke about starting with why, drawing from Simon Sinek’s Golden Circle framework. It wasn’t a new concept for me, but it landed differently this time. Instead of thinking only about business positioning, I found myself reflecting on alignment—how closely my work reflects who I am and what I actually value.

The next morning, at 1 Million Cups, I shared my own story with the community. I was more nervous than I expected—worried about being prepared, about saying something useful. And once again, the community did what it always does: it met me with generosity. The questions were thoughtful. The energy was encouraging. I left reminded that vulnerability and preparedness aren’t opposites—and that you don’t have to carry everything alone.

Later that day, I facilitated the Kauffman Foundation’s FastTrac program at Launch Fayette, walking participants through the IDEATE module. We talked about what it really means to be an entrepreneur, and I emphasized the importance of having a personal vision statement—something you can return to when opportunities show up, to check whether they’re truly aligned.

Ironically, it was one of the participants who helped me see something I hadn’t fully owned yet: a past project of mine, Artisans at the Avenue, was misaligned from the beginning. Not poorly executed. Not lacking effort. Just out of sync with my personal vision. It wasn’t doomed because of market conditions or timing—it was doomed because it didn’t fit.

That kind of clarity is uncomfortable, but it’s also freeing.

I’m seeing the opposite kind of alignment right now at The Nexus, especially during Round Table Tuesday. Each gathering feels more honest, more grounded, more meaningful. It’s becoming what I hoped it would be: a peer-led space where people can show up without pretending they’ve got it all figured out.

Professionally, this year already feels more promising than all of 2025. At Jason Hunter Design, we’ve written more proposals than we have in a long time. Nothing is signed yet—but the conversations feel right. Intentional. Rooted.

At home, things are still loud and unpredictable. Three-year-olds don’t care much about alignment or rhythm. But maybe that’s the point. When the outside world feels noisy, the things that ground you—community, purpose, routine—matter even more.

And right now, that feels like enough.