This Saturday, May 3rd, a small group of us will gather in downtown Greenville, SC, for a 5K meetup in honor of Mental Health Awareness Month. I wanted to take a moment to share why this matters.
The event is part of the Move For It 5K, a nationwide virtual campaign organized by To Write Love on Her Arms (TWLOHA), a nonprofit that exists to bring hope, help, and mental health resources to those who are struggling.
We’ll meet at Run-In on E. Washington Street and move together along the Swamp Rabbit Trail — not racing, just showing up. The pace doesn’t matter. What matters is the intention behind the movement: to remind ourselves and others that people need other people.
This campaign isn’t about miles or medals — it’s about mental health. It’s about creating space for hard conversations, showing solidarity with those in pain, and moving in the name of hope.
I’m sharing this because I believe storytelling can spark connection. If you’re reading this and mental health is something you care about — or something you’ve personally struggled with — I invite YOU to follow along, reflect, share, or donate if you feel called.
This weekend, we move not just for ourselves, but for anyone who needs to know they’re not alone. If you’re struggling, please know that hope is real, help is real, and your story is important.
And if you’re local and want to move with us — it’s not too late!
We’ll start at 7:30 AM at Run-In in downtown Greenville. Just show up ready to run, walk, or simply be part of something meaningful. See you on the trail! 🏃♂️
If you had shown me this photo a year ago and asked what it meant to me, I probably would’ve said, “It’s just a track.”
Now? I see freedom. I see the birthplace of a champion. I see possibility. I see the grind, the sweat, the growth—and the liberty to chase it all.
Purpose isn’t a destination. No one reaches the end of the road and says, “I’ve figured it all out.”
Meaning is made in motion—in the quiet moments, in the breath between steps, in the ever-evolving conversation between your soul, the ground beneath you, and something greater than us all.
The question isn’t “What’s my purpose?” The question is: “What brings me alive—right now?”
And this picture, in this moment, means exactly that: Alive.
I feel it when my feet strike the track, when the crisp air fills my lungs, when the sun kisses my skin. I feel it in the thunder of my heartbeat, in the silence of running alone. There’s no crowd. No medal. Just me. And I feel more alive than ever.
Someone said to me today, “You don’t need to run. You’re skinny.” I laughed and said, “Funny… my mom used to say the same thing.” And I appreciate the sentiment—sort of. But I don’t run to lose weight. I run to feel alive.
A year ago, I was in the darkest mental space I’ve ever known. Disconnected. Numb. Drowning in the noise of my own mind. I wasn’t in conversation with my soul—I wasn’t even listening. And I sure as hell wasn’t free.
Since I started running, the conversations have returned. Some of them are too raw to repeat. But whether it’s the track or the trail, I’ve found something sacred in the discipline.
I’ve traded my chains of fear for the work. And it’s the work that sets me free.
That’s the difference between a prisoner… and a champion.
In Atlas of the Heart, Brené Brown takes us on a transformative journey into the complex world of human emotions and experiences. This book serves as both a guide and a map, offering readers a fresh perspective on how to navigate life’s most pivotal emotional landscapes.
What Atlas of the Heart Is About
The book categorizes and explores 87 emotions and experiences, providing research-based insights to help readers understand what we feel, why we feel it, and how to communicate these emotions with clarity and empathy. Brown, known for her groundbreaking work on vulnerability, courage, and shame, delivers this resource with her signature mix of storytelling, research, and humor.
Through vivid metaphors, real-life examples, and reflective questions, Brown empowers us to recognize emotions that often go unnamed. She emphasizes that our ability to articulate feelings isn’t just a soft skill but a critical component of connection, both with ourselves and others.
Themes That Stood Out to Me
1. Naming Emotions Is a Form of Power
One of Brown’s most profound insights is that expanding our emotional vocabulary enables greater emotional resilience. In her research, she discovered that most people can only name three emotions: happy, sad, and angry. Atlas of the Heart invites us to explore the complexity beyond these basics. Words like anguish, awe, and nostalgia take on new significance, as Brown provides not only definitions but the contexts in which these feelings arise.
For me, this reframing felt like a revelation. Learning to name my emotions more precisely has already influenced how I approach difficult conversations, both personally and professionally. Instead of feeling overwhelmed, I find myself better equipped to express what I’m truly experiencing.
2. Connection Requires Emotional Literacy
Brown’s work reinforces that connection is rooted in understanding ourselves and communicating that understanding to others. Atlas of the Heart bridges the gap between feeling and expressing. It also challenges the idea that being vulnerable is a weakness. Rather, vulnerability is what makes courage possible. The book offers practical language to express vulnerability in ways that foster trust, respect, and connection.
How Atlas of the Heart Relates to Pickleball and Athletic Performance
As I read, I couldn’t help but think of the parallels between emotional intelligence and athletic performance, especially in pickleball. In a sport where split-second decisions and mental toughness are key, understanding and regulating emotions is vital. Whether it’s managing the frustration of a tough loss or the anxiety of a high-stakes tournament, emotional literacy can change the game—literally and figuratively.
Mastering the game is as much about mindset as mechanics, and the lessons from Atlas of the Heart remind me that effective play requires empathy and clarity. Naming and working through emotions can unlock breakthroughs in performance, confidence, and joy on the court.
Takeaways and Recommendations
Atlas of the Heart is an essential read for anyone seeking deeper self-awareness and more meaningful relationships. Brown’s research-backed insights are practical and profound, making this book an invaluable resource for coaches, leaders, and anyone committed to personal growth.
If you’re looking to explore emotional complexity in a digestible, actionable way, Atlas of the Heart belongs on your shelf. The insights you’ll gain about yourself and others are as transformative as they are affirming.
There’s a special kind of satisfaction that comes from seeing a project through to the end, especially when it doesn’t go as planned. I recently tackled a home repair DIY project that turned out to be more of an adventure than I’d bargained for. What started as a simple task—replacing a rotten wall panel and some insulation—quickly spiraled into something much bigger:
Replacing all the insulation
Re-running electrical wiring
Removing old newspaper insulation under the window sill
Spraying foam sealant
Caulking the outside brick
Adding nail-stopper plates
Then finally replacing the wall panel
It was messy, unexpected, and honestly, overwhelming at times. But finishing it felt incredible because the challenge forced me to adapt, learn, and grow.
summer wanted to help but she didn’t know the difference between a pry bar and a wrecking bar. and has no thumbs.it got messy quicklythe extent of thee water damagethey used newspaper as insulation! 😱dated Nov. 5, 1970front page of the newspaperI’m no electrician but this doesn’t seem right. 🤨also this…i could clearly see daylight to the outside! no good!QUAD to the rescue!we call it good.
Therapy is like a DIY project—messy, unpredictable, and life-changing.
Home repairs, as it turns out, are a perfect metaphor for therapy. Just like peeling back a wall reveals hidden issues, opening yourself up in therapy can expose complexities you didn’t anticipate. What you thought was one “rotten panel” might be layers of unresolved emotions, unexamined beliefs, or buried experiences.
And let’s be honest: that can be terrifying. Not only do you have to confront the work itself, but you also face the uncertainty of what lies beneath. Therapy often means diving into unknown territory—places you’ve never explored.
But here’s the thing: the first time you face those fears is the hardest. Each time after that? It gets a little easier. What once felt impossible starts to feel doable.
The Transformation
Better than before!
That’s the beauty of the work. Therapy takes what feels overwhelming and makes it manageable. Over time, the things you once avoided become things you conquer. They might even become things you enjoy.
And the best part? It’s life-changing. When you look back, you realize how far you’ve come and wonder, “How was I ever afraid of THAT?” The change is in the challenge.
Nathan Feuerstein, better known by his stage name NF, is an American rapper and songwriter known for his raw, emotional lyrics that delve into struggles with mental health, trauma, and personal growth. Through his music, he offers listeners a powerful way to process pain, find hope, and embrace vulnerability.
His songwriting teaches us that creativity can be a transformative outlet for emotional release and a tool for healing and self-discovery. NF’s authenticity and unflinching honesty remind us that confronting our darkest moments can lead to strength and resilience.
In his song HOPE, NF explores the emotional complexity of facing personal struggles and finding strength through adversity. The song emphasizes resilience, urging listeners to hold onto hope even when life is crippling.
Through powerful, introspective lyrics, NF conveys that healing is possible, and that transformation often begins with confronting our deepest fears. No matter how challenging the journey, we can grow, evolve, and rise above our circumstances. It’s an anthem of perseverance and faith in the face of pain.
Hope Yeah, I’m on my way, I’m coming Don’t, don’t lose faith in me I know you’ve been waitin’ I know you’ve been prayin’ for my soul Hope, hope
Thirty years you been draggin’ your feet Tellin’ me I’m the reason we’re stagnant Thirty years you’ve been claiming you’re honest And promising progress, well, where’s it at? I don’t want you to feel like a failure (failure) I know this hurts But I gave you your chance to deliver (deliver) Now it’s my turn Don’t get me wrong, Nate, you’ve had a great run But it’s time to give the people somethin’ different So without further ado, I’d Like to introduce my (My album, my album, my album, my album, my album, my album, my album) Hope What’s my definition of success? (Of success) Listening to what your heart says (your heart says) Standing up for what you know is (is) Right, while everybody else is (is) Tucking their tail between their legs (okay) What’s my definition of success? (Of success) Creating something no one else can (else can) Being brave enough to dream big (big) Grindin’ when you’re told to just quit (quit) Giving more when you got nothin’ left (left) It’s a person that’ll take a chance on Something they were told could never happen It’s a person that can see the bright side through the dark times when there ain’t one It’s when someone who ain’t never had nothin’ Ain’t afraid to walk away from more profit ‘Cause they’d rather do somethin’ that they really love and take the pay cut It’s a person that would never waver Or change who they are Just to try and gain some credibility So they could feel accepted by a stranger It’s a person that can take the failures in their life and turn them into motivation It’s believing in yourself when no one else does, it’s amazing
What a little bit of faith can do if you don’t even believe in you Why would you think or expect anybody else that’s around you to? I done did things that I regret I done said things I can’t take back Was a lost soul at a crossroad who had no hope but I changed that I spent years of my life holdin’ on to things I never should’ve kept, full of hatred Years of my life carryin’ a lot of baggage that I should’ve walked away from Years of my life wishin’ I was someone different, lookin’ for some validation Years of my life tryna fill the void, pretending I was in They get it
Growing pain’s a necessary evil Difficult to go through, yes, but beneficial Some would say having a mental breakdown is a negative thing Which on one hand, I agree with On the other hand, it was the push I needed To get help and start the healing process, see If I’d have never hit rock bottom Would I be the person that I am today? I don’t believe so I’m a prime example of what happens when you choose to not accept defeat and face your demons Took me thirty years to realize that if you want to get the opportunity To be the greatest version of yourself Sometimes you got to be someone you’re not to hear the voice of reason Having kids will make you really take a step back and look in the mirror At least for me that’s what it did, I
Wake up every day and pick my son up, hold him in my arms And let him know he’s loved (loved) Standing by the window questioning if dad is ever going to show up (up) Isn’t something he’s gon’ have to worry about Don’t get it twisted, that wasn’t a shot Mama, I forgive you I just don’t want him to grow up thinkin’ that he’ll never be enough Thirty years of running, thirty years of searching Thirty years of hurting, thirty years of pain Thirty years of fearful, thirty years of anger Thirty years of empty, thirty years of shame Thirty years of broken, thirty years of anguish Thirty years of hopeless, thirty years of (hey) Thirty years of never, thirty years of maybe Thirty years of later, thirty years of fake Thirty years of hollow, thirty years of sorrow Thirty years of darkness, thirty years of (Nate) Thirty years of baggage, thirty years of sadness Thirty years of stagnant, thirty years of chains Thirty years of anxious, thirty years of suffering Thirty years of torment, thirty years of (wait) Thirty years of bitter, thirty years of lonely Thirty years of pushing everyone away (You’ll never evolve) I know I can change (We are not enough) we are not the same (You don’t have the heart) you don’t have the strength (You don’t have the will) you don’t have the faith (You’ll never be loved, you’ll never be safe Might as well give up) not running away (You don’t have the guts) you’re the one afraid I’m the one in charge I’m taking the (no) I’m taking the Reigns
