My 10 core Philosophies that I live by…
1. Live in the present.
The past is often a place we return to, replaying decisions, wishing for alternate outcomes, or longing for times that seem brighter than they were. The future is a landscape of anxiety, filled with plans, fears, and endless “what ifs.” But neither the past nor the future can be lived in — only remembered or imagined. Life only happens in the present.
To live in the present is to stop long enough to notice the sound of water at Paradise Pier, the laughter of a child, the comfort of silence, or the simple breath in your lungs. It is to resist mourning a moment before it even passes. It is to release the grip of nostalgia and fear so you can fully inhabit the “now.” Living in the present is not about denying the past or refusing to plan for the future, but about refusing to let them steal the one thing that is real: this moment.
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2. See story everywhere.
Every life is a story unfolding, and every person you meet is both an author and a character. If you look closely enough, you’ll find that the stories others tell about themselves — and the stories you tell about yourself — carry the deepest truths.
To see story everywhere is to realize that every conversation has roots, every action has context, and every person has reasons for being who they are. It’s to value curiosity over judgment. It’s to find beauty in the way narratives overlap, inspire, and challenge one another. It’s also to honor your own life as a story worth telling, not just in the highlights but also in the struggles, because even the darkest chapters give meaning to the light.
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3. Don’t call yourself broken.
Too many voices will tell you that you are incomplete, cursed, or damaged beyond repair. Sometimes these voices come from religion, sometimes from culture, sometimes from inside yourself. But you are not broken. You may carry scars, but scars are proof of healing, not signs of defect. You may regret choices, but regret does not erase wholeness.
To refuse the label of “broken” is to affirm the worth of your existence as it is, without conditions. It doesn’t mean ignoring mistakes or refusing growth — it means growth starts from acceptance, not shame. You already carry what you need to live fully. When you stop calling yourself broken, you also stop labeling others that way. This commandment is not just self-acceptance; it’s a recognition that every person you meet is complete, even in their imperfection.
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4. Be a guide, not a controller.
The temptation to control is strong. To want others to think like you, believe like you, or act like you. But life has taught you that real growth never comes from control — it comes from agency. You are not the hero of someone else’s journey, and no one else is the hero of yours.
To be a guide is to walk alongside, not in front. It’s to say, “Here’s what I’ve seen, here’s what I’ve learned,” while allowing others to make their own way. It’s to recognize that sometimes the best gift you can give is presence, not answers. Guidance is an invitation, not an imposition. The world is full of people trying to control others; what people need most is someone who can guide without taking away their dignity.
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5. Embrace the struggle.
Life will hand you hurdles — sometimes literal, sometimes metaphorical. Fear will tempt you to avoid them, but avoidance only postpones the inevitable. Struggle is not an interruption of life; it is where life happens.
Embracing struggle means seeing it as a teacher. The scraped knees, the failed races, the setbacks — they hold wisdom that easy days never will. Struggle is what shapes character, reveals resilience, and creates the stories worth telling. Even when struggle ends in failure, it is not wasted; it gives you perspective, strength, and sometimes even humor. And sometimes the deepest joy you’ll know comes not after the struggle is over, but in the middle of it, when you discover what you’re truly capable of.
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6. Let go of labels.
Labels can be useful. They can describe roles, professions, or even spiritual identities. But labels are only tools — and when they become cages, they strip away your true self.
Letting go of labels means refusing to let any single word or group define you. You are more than your job title, your personality type, your political affiliation, or your religious background. Those may all describe aspects of your life, but none of them can contain you. To cling to labels is to shrink yourself into something manageable for others. To let them go is to claim the freedom of being fully yourself, even when that self doesn’t fit tidy categories.
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7. Choose presence over performance.
The world will measure you by what you produce, how many people clap, or how much you earn. But worth is not found in performance; it is found in presence.
Choosing presence over performance is about showing up as yourself, even when you could put on a mask. It’s about valuing authentic moments more than polished outcomes. It’s about seeing people not as audiences to impress but as humans to connect with. Performance can win approval, but presence builds trust. When you choose presence, you free yourself from the exhausting cycle of proving you are enough.
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8. Value connection over perfection.
The pursuit of perfection often isolates. In trying to be flawless, you create distance between yourself and others. But life is not about being flawless — it is about being connected.
To value connection is to prioritize understanding over winning arguments. It’s to embrace vulnerability, admitting when you’re wrong or when you don’t have answers. It’s to let people see you as you are, not as a polished image. Connection allows you to love and be loved in your imperfection, and it creates bonds that perfection could never sustain.
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9. Enjoy what others might call meaningless.
Not everything has to be justified with a reason. Some things are worth loving simply because they bring you joy. To others, your hobbies, collections, or quirks may seem silly or pointless — but meaning doesn’t require explanation.
To enjoy the “meaningless” is to grant yourself permission to delight in life without apology. It’s to visit Disneyland just for the beauty of the lights after sundown. It’s to love a comic book character or a movie that stirs something in your heart. These joys don’t need to be defended; they are sacred precisely because they bring you alive. Meaning is not always about utility. Sometimes it is about wonder.
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10. Remember life is finite.
There was a time when you thought life might go on forever, that loss wasn’t real, that eternity waited around the corner. But now you know this life is finite. And though that realization was once painful, it has become a source of gratitude.
To remember life is finite is to recognize the miracle of existence. It is to cherish the people in your life, knowing that moments with them are limited. It is to savor experiences, knowing they will not come again. It is to let go of the illusion of permanence and find joy in the temporary. Finite life is not less meaningful; it is more precious. And when your days are over, the impact of your presence will ripple beyond your memory in ways you cannot measure.
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Put together, these Ten are not rules but reminders — a philosophy that turns story, presence, and sovereignty into a way of living.
