Tuesday, September 29, 2026

Blog Post #32: Season 4, Episode 7: The Myth of Having It All Figured Out

 

The Myth of Having It All Figured Out

I used to think there would be a point when I finally felt like I knew what I was doing.

Not with one particular thing.

With life.

Like eventually I would reach some magical age where everything clicked into place.

I'd know exactly what I wanted.

I'd make decisions without second-guessing them.

I'd understand money and relationships and careers and all of the other things adults apparently know.

I'd have a plan.

I'd follow the plan.

And I'd finally feel like...

Okay. I’ve got this.

Well.

I'm almost 40.

And I'm still waiting. πŸ˜‚

But maybe that's because the thing I've been waiting for doesn't actually exist.

Tuesday, September 22, 2026

Blog Post #32: Season 4, Episode 6: What Podcasting Has Taught Me About People

 

What Podcasting Has Taught Me About People

I started podcasting because I loved stories.

I liked asking questions.

I liked learning about people.

I liked the idea that you could sit down with someone, turn on a microphone, and somehow end up somewhere completely different from where the conversation started.

What I didn't realize was how much all of those conversations would change me.

Because after enough hours spent listening to people talk about their lives, you start noticing things.

People are complicated.

They're surprising.

They're carrying things you can't see.

And sometimes the person you think you understand...

has an entire story you've never heard.

We Decide Who People Are Really Quickly

In Season 4, Episode 6, I talked about some of the things podcasting has taught me about people.

But there's something I've been thinking about since:

How quickly do we decide who someone is?

Sometimes it takes seconds.

We meet someone and immediately start filling in the blanks.

She's quiet, so she must be shy.

He's loud, so he must love attention.

She's successful, so she must have everything figured out.

He's difficult, so he must just be an asshole.

She's always joking, so obviously she's fine.

We take the tiny piece of someone we can see...

and build the rest of them ourselves.

Podcasting has made me realize just how often we're wrong.

Because I've had conversations with people who were absolutely nothing like I expected them to be.

And I've learned that the version of someone you meet first isn't necessarily the whole person.

Sometimes...

it's barely the introduction.

Everybody Has a Story Underneath the Story

There's something interesting that happens during a good conversation.

You ask a question.

They answer.

You keep talking.

And somewhere along the way...

the conversation changes.

The rehearsed answers disappear.

The walls come down a little.

And suddenly you're not talking about what someone does anymore.

You're talking about who they are.

That's usually where the interesting stuff lives.

I've heard stories about trauma, loss, service, mental health, relationships, mistakes, second chances, failure, resilience and everything in between.

And one thing has become very clear:

Everybody has something.

That doesn't mean everybody has the same struggle.

And it definitely doesn't mean we should compare pain.

It simply means the person standing in front of you has lived an entire life you weren't there for.

There are chapters you haven't read.

Listening Is Different Than Waiting to Talk

This one has probably been one of the biggest lessons for me.

There's a difference between hearing someone and actually listening to them.

And I'll fully admit...

I'm a fixer.

πŸ˜‚

Tell me a problem and my brain immediately starts going:

Okay. Here's what we need to do.

I'm mentally making a list before you've even finished explaining what happened.

But podcasting has taught me that sometimes the best thing you can do is...

nothing.

Don't fix it.

Don't compare it to something that happened to you.

Don't immediately offer advice.

Don't try to find the positive.

Just listen.

Because sometimes people aren't asking us to solve their problem.

They're asking us to understand that the problem exists.

That's very different.

You Don't Always Need the Perfect Question

When I first started interviewing people, I thought the questions were everything.

I wanted good questions.

Interesting questions.

Questions nobody else had asked.

And obviously, questions matter.

But I've learned that sometimes the most important thing you can say in a conversation is incredibly simple:

“Tell me more.”

That's it.

Or:

“What happened next?”

“How did that affect you?”

“Wait... go back. What did you mean by that?”

Those questions aren't impressive.

But they tell somebody:

I'm listening.

And sometimes that's what allows the real story to come out.

People Aren't Problems to Solve

I think we do this with good intentions.

Someone tells us they're struggling and immediately we want to make it better.

Find the lesson.

Offer the solution.

Point out the silver lining.

Tell them everything happens for a reason.

But I've learned to be much more careful with that.

Because I can decide what my experiences mean to me.

I can look back at something painful and say:

That redirected me.

That taught me something.

That changed my life.

But I don't get to decide what somebody else's pain was supposed to teach them.

Sometimes something terrible happened.

Sometimes they're still angry about it.

Sometimes they haven't found the lesson.

Maybe they never will.

And maybe our job isn't to find one for them.

Maybe our job is simply to say:

“I hear you.”

Knowing Someone Isn't the Same as Knowing Their Whole Story

This might be my favorite lesson.

Because it applies even to the people closest to us.

You can know somebody for years...

and still discover something about them that completely surprises you.

I've experienced that in interviews.

I've experienced it with friends.

I've even experienced it with Rico.

There are pieces of our story that I understood completely from my perspective.

Then I heard them from his.

Same relationship.

Same timeline.

Same people.

Different experience.

And I love that.

Because I don't ever want to reach a point where I think I've completely figured out another human being.

People aren't books you finish reading.

They're still writing.

So are you.

Pain Doesn't Always Look Sad

This is another thing I've learned through so many conversations.

We expect pain to look a certain way.

We expect someone who's hurting to look...

hurt.

But sometimes pain looks like humor.

Sometimes it looks like anger.

Sometimes it looks like working constantly.

Sometimes it looks like avoiding everyone.

Sometimes it looks like taking care of everybody else.

And sometimes?

It looks completely normal.

That's especially something I've seen through conversations involving first responders, veterans and families.

People can carry enormous things...

and then walk into the grocery store looking like everybody else.

It doesn't excuse bad behavior.

It doesn't mean you have to accept being treated poorly.

But it does make me wonder more often:

What don't I know?

That's a much different question than:

What's wrong with them?

Resilience Is Usually Pretty Boring

We love inspirational stories after they're finished.

Someone survived something awful.

They rebuilt.

They found purpose.

They started over.

Cue the inspirational music.

πŸ˜‚

But when you actually listen to people's stories...

resilience usually isn't one giant moment.

It's ordinary.

It's getting out of bed.

Making the appointment.

Going to work.

Taking care of your kids.

Calling someone.

Trying again.

Making it through Tuesday.

And then doing it again Wednesday.

There usually isn't one moment where someone announces:

“I am officially resilient now!”

They just keep going.

And eventually...

they look backward and realize they survived something they once weren't sure they could.

Maybe we need to give ourselves more credit for those ordinary days.

Some Strangers Don't Stay Strangers

Podcasting has brought people into my life who probably never would've crossed my path otherwise.

That's one of my favorite parts.

A message becomes a conversation.

A conversation becomes an interview.

An interview becomes another conversation.

And occasionally...

a stranger becomes a friend.

I've watched those connections spill into other parts of my life too.

Podcasting.

Radio.

The media network.

Friendships.

Projects.

Opportunities.

One person leads to another person.

One conversation leads somewhere completely unexpected.

And suddenly you look backward and realize an entire part of your life exists because somebody once sent a message.

That's about as beautifully unplanned as it gets.

Stories Have a Life After They're Told

Here's something else I don't think storytellers always realize.

Once you tell someone your story...

you don't get to see everywhere it goes.

Someone might hear your story about failure and finally try again.

Someone might hear you talk about grief and feel less alone.

Someone might hear your story about starting over and realize they aren't too old.

Someone might hear something you thought was just a tiny detail...

and that's the part they remember.

I've had guests say things that stuck with me long after we stopped recording.

Sometimes they probably don't even remember saying them.

That's the power of stories.

We don't always know which part another person needed.

Maybe We All Need to Listen Longer

I think that's the biggest thing podcasting has taught me.

Listen longer.

Before deciding who someone is...

listen longer.

Before assuming you know why they made a decision...

listen longer.

Before offering advice...

listen longer.

Before deciding you have nothing in common...

listen longer.

Listening doesn't mean agreeing.

It doesn't mean excusing behavior.

It doesn't mean every person deserves unlimited access to your life.

It simply means allowing another human being to be more complicated than the version you've created in your head.

And maybe we'd all understand each other a little better if we did more of that.

Ask One More Question

So here's something to try this week.

Pick someone you already know.

Your spouse.

Your parent.

Your friend.

Your coworker.

Your kid.

Someone you've known forever.

And the next time they tell you something...

ask one more question.

Instead of immediately responding, ask:

“What was that like?”

“Why did you feel that way?”

“What happened next?”

Or simply...

“Tell me more.”

Then actually listen.

Maybe nothing dramatic happens.

Or maybe someone you've known for twenty years tells you something you've never heard before.

Because everyone you meet has chapters you haven't read.

And sometimes the most meaningful thing you can give another person isn't advice...

it's your attention.

✨ Different stories. Same humanity.

Podcasting may have given me the microphone.

But the people on the other side of it taught me the part that matters most:

The real magic happens when we stop talking long enough to hear each other. 🀍

🌐 Website:
https://thebeautifullyunplannedpodcast.com

πŸ“ More Blog Posts:
https://thebeautifullyunplannedpodcast.blogspot.com

πŸ› Shop Merch:
https://www.slightlyunhingedmedianetwork.com/the-beautifully-unplanned-podcast-shop

Tuesday, September 15, 2026

Blog Post #31: Season 4, Episode 5: The Invisible Seasons

 

The Invisible Seasons

Some seasons of life come with obvious proof that something is happening.

There’s an announcement.

A milestone.

A new beginning.

A goal reached.

A before-and-after photo.

Something you can point to and say...

“See? I’m making progress.”

And then there are the other seasons.

The quiet ones.

The ones where you’re showing up, doing the work, trying to figure things out...

and absolutely nothing seems to be changing.

Those are the invisible seasons.

And I’m starting to believe they deserve a little more credit.

Tuesday, September 8, 2026

Blog Post #30: Season 4, Episode 4: The Best Decisions I Ever Made Started With Fear

 

The Best Decisions I Ever Made Started With Fear

There’s a strange assumption we make about good decisions.

We think they’re supposed to feel good when we make them.

Like when something is right, we’ll just know.

We’ll feel calm.

Confident.

Ready.

There will be some magical moment of clarity where all the questions disappear and we think…

Yep. This is definitely what I’m supposed to do.

Except some of the best decisions I’ve ever made felt nothing like that.

They felt scary.

Uncertain.

Uncomfortable.

And occasionally a little bit like…

“What the hell am I doing?” πŸ˜‚

Season 4, Episode 4 is about those decisions.

But there’s something I want to add to that conversation.

Blog Post #29: Season 4, Episode 3: Why Failure Usually Isn’t the End

 

Why Failure Usually Isn’t the End

Failure has a way of feeling incredibly permanent when you’re standing in the middle of it.

Something doesn’t work.

You try again.

It still doesn’t work.

Eventually, you stop thinking…

“That didn’t work.”

And start thinking…

“Maybe I just can’t do this.”

But when I look back at some of the things I once considered failures, I see them very differently now.

Some taught me something.

Some forced me to change direction.

Some showed me what absolutely did not work for me.

And some eventually led me somewhere I never would’ve gone if the original plan had worked.

Blog Post #32: Season 4, Episode 7: The Myth of Having It All Figured Out

  The Myth of Having It All Figured Out I used to think there would be a point when I finally felt like I knew what I was doing. Not with on...