Grit, Grace and Humility

“Life is what happens to you
While you’re busy making other plans”

Beautiful Boy, Sir John Lennon

Where does your mind take you when you find that sweet spot to decompress? For me that is obtained after the first paced first mile of a run, a few moments into walking along the Lake Michigan shoreline on my lunch break at work, ten minutes into a soothing end of day bath, or even while I’m trying to shut my eyes on the day. It’s that moment of clarity that sweeps over your brain like an ominous and abrupt fog. Lately, my mind has been prompting, more like teasing me with, “Write, Kate, Write!”

Write? About what? I help patients needing insurance apply for Medicaid often and when I do I ask them, “paint me picture of the last 30 days, that’s what the office will be looking at.” My last 30 days have been a shit show–why the hell would I want to write about that? May be its time to open up, not hide in the sweet spots I crave to calm my mind down or even seek out to find some zen on a hectic work day.

I know why I want to become more aloof, mysterious, and untransparent.

I turn 39 in about 48 hours and boy…that is hitting me a bit harder than I care to admit. I remember a family friend/cousin once telling me the “9’s” were her hardest years. It was the last year of a decade and she disliked those birthdays more than the often celebrated milestone ones.

It’s this thing we do, this image of what we think life should in our minds. I thought at this age my cravings for sweet spots would be to decompress from work, minivan leases, daycares, mortgage payments and how to be a good partner or wife. I had written my life out early in my 20s and believe me when I say I thought I had it all figured out.

They say God will humble us when we need it. I have certainly been humbled the last month; even year of my life.

So now what? When the fairytale we paint in our mind is over…where should I go?

I would have to say you go with grit, grace and humility towards the next day. Soak in those sweet spots where you mind directs and listen to that internal prompting of what your next step should be. Find what fuels that God sized hole we were all born with. Turn down an extra street, pace out another mile, eat the ice cream and all that lovely stuff.

And for me ;I will embark on writing more and listening to my inner self. We all get these one long rambling lives that are actually broken up into hours, days, and weeks to break things down.

So just for today, at 38.9895959595 I will write, breathe, and talk another walk.

This is almost 39…here we go!


“Spartan Strong”

What a blunder of a week filled with every emotion.

I, like so many other, will now always remember February 13,2023. Its no longer the day before Valentine’s Day; its the day of a mass shooting at my beloved alma mater, Michigan State University. There was little to no sleep that evening for me. I wept while watching some of my beloved favorite places on North campus continuously show updates on 24/7 national television. While getting ready for work with an excessive amount of caffeine; I hugged my other half and wept some more into his shoulder. I got ready with my Valentine’s Day heart printed dress and departed towards my office now in Nothern Michigan some 200 miles away.

My mind always wanders or does its best thinking: during longer driving commutes, outdoors hikes, runs and walks. This morning was no different. I observed the sunrise coming towards me over the banks of Lake Charlevoix and I kept thinking back to my time in East Lansing and specific few incidents that kept haunting me. I had completely forgotten that I had been involved in an active shooter event that locked down MSU’s campus in May of 2014.

To be honest; I think I blocked it all out. I’ve pretty much blocked out or not thought about moving away from my beloved city for years now.

The incident with the active shooter met a poor pharmacist at Rite Aid’s demise. The perpetrator then ran loose in the nearby cities. I remember being nearly alone in Rather Hall (where my glass front office was located in the lobby.) I locked the door and hid first under my desk, then decided might be safe enough to head towards the unisex bathroom that deadbolt locked in the lobby. I remember texting people, cold sweat trickling down my forehead, that I had on a blue sleeveless wrap dress and I took off my nude sling back heels for fear of being heard. This was my worst case fear brought to light.

Breathing in and out to remind myself I was alive, and it was going to be okay.

Question is though–after people go through something that–are they ever really okay?

Our constitution of the United States America openly states about people’s inalienable right to: “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

How can that be possible when we are constantly reeling in fear?

(Is it possible to add an amendment to have a reasonable sense of safety and security? but how?)

Although I had forgotten about that time, that I do I recall the feeling of terror and personal violation that led me to permanently move away from East Lansing. I survived my own personal sexual assault and physical beating just off campus in 2015. Violence against another human being in anyway evokes a feeling lingering trauma for years to come.

It’s so incredibly paradoxical and confusing.

This breaks my heart for the students that will now also have the association of one of their favorite places in the world trigger them from here on out. I still yearn to hear the Spartan marching band practicing on a sunny Fall Friday before a home football game. To smell the Red Cedar and foliage walking mid campus, feel the buzz of new youthful energy every August, and settle into the beauty of the architecture of North Campus. I would bottle and sell this evocation to alumni and fans if I could.

There is nothing in the world like it.

The same thing I wish I could encapsulate also provokes a small lingering rumbling in my stomach of doubt and fear. It’s not really easy for me to even be near the campus I loved so dearly since 2015. I’ve needed more time and healing. A person’s body keeps the score and produces a reaction whether we want it or not. Our fear-based trauma roots itself deep into our brain. Intellectually we may feel physical safe. It the rest that are incredibly hard…

So, I wonder and worry. On a campus of nearly 18’000 students surrounded by the largest land mass university campus in the United States; how do we help process the fear, grief, and sudden loss of safety for these students? Employees? Local residents?

Essentially, I ask, where do we go from here?

Physically some buildings may remain closed for the rest of Spring Semester 2023. Games will be postponed and then played. Classes will resume, students will arrive back to campus. Time is a torch carrying thief that will march on. For those still feeling that deep rumbling in your soul; I am there with you, and I understand.

I don’t have the answers seven years after my own traumatic event. What I do have is deep empathy, better communication, sobriety, and necessary coping skills. I showed up and was brutally honest at my counseling appointment. I wept, cried, journaled, and walked during lunch breaks. I wore my Spartan attire with pride all week. I thought about so many people I haven’t spoked to or seen in years. I reached out to a few.

I find inspiration in the young lives and many employees who have shown up at vigils, in solidarity and in so many other resources. You are teaching me to continue to dig deep and do the work on myself. We can never know when tragedy will strike us personally or on a larger scale. I do also feel inspired to potentially rip off a band aid and visit in the Spring…

We all have to heal and continue to inspire each other “Spartan Strong.”

Its Okay …to NOT be Okay

“Yes, it’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to hesitate before plunging from your comfort zone.

It’s okay to have scars, pimples, insecurities, moles, cellulite, tremors, debts, redness, regrets, loneliness and uncertainty.

It’s okay to have no idea what you’re doing.

It’s okay to struggle with some things, while enjoying others. It’s okay to find joy in the beauty in life, even after a great loss. It’s okay to change. It’s okay to move on. And it’s okay to fear changing and moving on.

Wherever you are, and whatever you are experiencing, is okay. You didn’t invent the universe and you didn’t invent the human condition.

You don’t need permission to live whatever you’re living, even if it looks and feels different from anyone else’s life around you. And it’s okay to feel like you need that permission anyway.”
― Vironika Tugaleva

I have witnessed as lot of heartbreak as of lately.

I’ve had my own stuff on my mind as well.

As an empath, I naturally absorb many of people’s emotions around me.

After a morning that: involved a flat tire, air machine not working at a gas station, and a meltdown the size of the State of Texas that a few passerby’s witnessed.

Luckily, my other half is calmer than me and more patient in situations like that. He drove me to work and told me it was going to be okay.

It made me think of how many other people I know are openly going through things or are privately going through things.

You know what, its OKAY TO NOT BE OKAY!!!

Take the moment and breathe, go for a walk, admit it OUTLOUD and give the power of the feeling away and credit at the same time.

It’s not okay to stay not being okay…but just for today…do the best you can.


“Oh, it’s been a hard day’s night, and I’ve been working like a dog
It’s been a hard day’s night, I should be sleeping like a log
But when I get home to you I’ll find the things that you do
Will make me feel alright
You know I feel alright
You know I feel alright”

~Hard Days Night, The Beatles~

I called a dear friend of mine on New Year’s Eve and was talking to her about our New Year’s Eve plans. My friend believes in one word New Year’s Resolution’s mantra as to my fellow sober sister and hero Dr. Brene Brown does. My friend is also an inspiration of mine as she has been through hell and back in 2021 with her husband succumbing to his cancer battle. So really; they are both sober sheros of mine…


We were talking about where our lives were pointing us towards in 2022 and what words we should use for the incoming year. 2021 was a challenge for so many us. We all keep hoping for that glimmer that ends the pandemic, and with whiplash and vengeance, it keeps on coming back for another. We talked for a bit about the year and how so many people survived instead of thrived. I shared with her (and now with all of you) there is one reoccurring word that keeps coming back to me.

The word is simple and boring.

The word is routine.

So what’s in a routine?

Routine is the crucial cornerstone that was taught to me in both treatment and A.A. as an essential way of life to keep myself together in the form of mind, body, and soul. Routine to me is attempting to go to bed at around the same area each night in some type of format and practicing a formula each morning. Routine is an appeasement to the anxiety I was born overdeveloped with. It means setting my coffee maker the night before, reading my devotions, attempting some form of daily exercise, journaling daily, and practicing conversations with God as often as needed. Routine is setting my clothes out the night before work, and making my bed every morning. Creating a schedule that includes the same meetings each week. Looking ahead and planning.

Do I have control issues?


Is this a form of OCD?


When I don’t practice the principles of simple routine practices my disease comes out in forms of prickly sarcasms. Toss and turning transforms the restful sleep I need. My jagged edges of thinking and taking my own will back surface and I cannot even begin to start being the best version of myself. I have worked too damn hard to not even let myself have a chance at being the best version of myself too.

I don’t do resolutions. A resolution is an absolute. You are doomed to fail. None of us are perfect. Instead, I am going to set my mind on crafting this little nooks of my life that help create the best version of myself. It may seem so minimal-yet in the big picture its the very ant crumbs of nourishment I need to flourish in life.

What is your word for 2022? Have you given it any thought? I encourage you all to be kinder to yourselves and each other. Also, if you haven’t heard it yet today…you are loved.

As for me…its time to get cracking. Sundays routine is for laundry, relaxation, reading, (now writing?) walks, and football. What I will do when the Super Bowl ceases the season will be a stay tuned…

Feed Your Mind…

“Free your mind….and the rest will follow…”

~En Vouge, Free Your Mind~

Podcasts seem to be popping up anywhere anyone has an opinion or story. The beauty if that they are all something we all can access with ease (some for free), and tune into other people’s opinions. I scoffed at all of this at first. I mean, “Come on, man!” It’s 2021! We already have 24 news cycles, op-eds, twitter and more. There are a few that I have found to be downright additive to any type of mental health homework though. I love music, but find when I tune into these while walking, I get to exercise my brain a bit too (and it needs it!) I have grown fond of Brene Brown’s Unlocking Us podcast, Dear Chelsea by Chelsea Handler, Joyce’s Meyer’s Talk It Out, and my personal favorite, We Can do Hard Things by Glennon Doyle.

I have been trying to work on my physical health too. Returning to running after a hiatus has been painful mentally and physically. Weekends used to be for 8 mile runs, and mentally I just kick my own ass for not being there. I have been working to add what I can-where and when. One of these is on my 30 minute break, eating quickly and then walking for 20 minutes or so. Today my inner harmony was off. I could blame mercury being in retrograde or I could own my own shit and reset my mood. So I took off for my walk and decided to listen to one of Glennon Doyle’s latest podcasts.

Game changer. She does hard things AND she is a game changer in the field of mental health and recovery (imo.)

As I walked past the newly fallen leaves upon the beautiful sidewalks of East Dixon Avenue in Charlevoix; I tuned in and actively listened to what she had to say with her crew today. The title today was “Living By Your Own Original Music instead of the Crappy Cover Tunes.” (I love a good music metaphor as well.) The topic covered the basis of how do you know something about yourself versus have you conditioned yourself the worst case scenario and telling yourself lies.


Digging deeper, its a hugely and deeply impactful thought. How do we know when to trust ourselves? Women inherently are trained to be nice to be people and often push away feelings of fear from strangers. It can be their intuition talking to them. I spent a good three years afraid of strangers after my assault. I allowed thoughts of fear to become a baseline.

I am also open up the anxiety I have carried with me my entire life. I was born high strung, hyper aware, empathetic, and sensitive. (All things I embrace more and more as I age and grow okay with.) How do we know if its the beast of anxiety…say a cover tune playing in our minds versus the original song of being of rational mind. Even thinking about this sorta stresses me out!

I love what the basic thought process was by those talking during the podcast. You have to get back to a baseline, ask yourself, how do I really feel in this situation/place/about a person and trust that you were made by God to feel what’s right. Stay out of overthinking and your mind. For most of us, its a damn mess in there.

I get this and it resonates with me.

My entire inner being is so much better after some form of exercise outside. Its like my body feeds off the nature of God’s creation and calms itself back to being in sync. Mentally I can problem solve anything with my running or work out shoes laced up and the certainty of my air pods being charged. Its what works for me. I can’t meditate, sit still too long, and so many other things that others use to calm down.

I understand about those cover tunes all too well. When we tell ourselves we must react to something-we internalize it and we do! What you feed yourself mentally is just as important, if not more, than what you feed yourself physically. Negative thoughts and thinking can be equated with the spinning stomach of a sugar and junk food addict. Its a roller coaster, unstable, and nothing good ever comes from it.

So ask yourself, what are you doing to feed your mind something positive today?

How are you going to re-center your day?

Do the hard thing and put some investment back in you!

And as always, I am a phone call away if you need anything or further brainstorm on this. Who knows, may be can create a rock band of positivity.

Please God Show Me the Way..

Please God, show ’em the way
Please God, on this”

-Stevie Nicks, “Show them the Way”

Can you honestly say you always put faith over fear? I

I’m going to own some serious shit and and admit my own hypocrisy.

I preach faith over fear to so many people. I say a lot of things. Like the positive posts on Instagram and Facebook with the sayings too. My actions don’t always match my words. I freak out. I fret. I blame. I worry. I overreact and show my fangs to those that love me.

So I ask, what does putting faith over fear mean to you?

I love the Lord with my entire heart. I thank him everyday for my recovery, health, family, happiness, and pray I can be the best person for that day every morning. I bought one of those “pumpkin spice and Jesus Christ” shirts, I openly pray if someone needs it. When someone askes me how I stay sober; I say through God and God only.

Yet there are cracks in my foundation of faith.

Instead of keeping the faith when my Dad was air lifted to ICU; I swore like a sailor, panicked, didn’t sleep, freaked out, and took it 100% out on my partner Ryan. Where was my faith at that moment? It can’t only be there for the status quo moments of bliss and routine. Faith also cannot only be a foxhole prayer. It can’t also trickle out the door the second the going gets tough.

By observing my own behavior and looking back on some past behaviors I have come to the realization that I need to learn to practice what I preach. Just like everything of merit and value in my life-being a woman of faith and virtue takes work. It takes work to unclench my jaw (which I also do in my sleep), take a deep breath and turn those fears over to what I believe in. Its daily work, not dormant sayings. Just like those who stay physically fit and healthy make it a lifestyle not a fad diet-its just as important to work on the health, peace and serenity of my being a lifestyle not a fad as well.

Its work. Its going to be a painful work for me to get back into running shape again, but I know every time I lace up those shoes I am coming back to a place I need to be and doing important work for myself. The payoff and trade off are worth it.

Its daily work for me to admit to myself, the world, and God that I cannot drink like a normal person. I never, ever will be able to again. There is no such thing as one in my vocabulary. Its also going to take work to curb any self pity and the side habit of including the word fuck in my vocabulary.

I was born a feeling person with high strung qualities. I feel things. I don’t know what a baseline of calm is like as a person. It will be work for me to put faith over fear into action in my life. Who knows, may be just for now, when I start off by saying God grant me the serenity…the prayer doesn’t have to stop there and a deep breath of gratitude could help. One day at a time…..I am getting there by owning my shit and working to get better.

Faith over fear.

Not so simple is it?

Unmanageability Doesn’t = Alone

“Is there anyone out there ’cause
It’s getting harder and harder to breathe
Is there anyone out there ’cause
It’s getting harder and harder to breathe”

~Harder To Breathe, Maroon 5~

What would you define in your life as “unmanageable” or the parts you don’t want anyone to see? Or even better yet; what do you think is the definition of unmanageability?

I have had a few conversations with people in various people with different places of their lives of where they felt their manageability of their lives was at the moment. We are all human. Some are good. Some are bad. One was celebrating 30 days without a drop of alcohol. Another was feeling alone, isolated, and yet thought it was all kept together. One was in a life changing and air-grasping for God type of situations. One is making a life career move for their family, wife, and work life balance.

It made me think of my own place in life, my own definition of the word, and how…at times…that term unmanageability was my own damn existence. You see alcoholics and our very core of our program teeter to the very brink of survival around this word. The funny thing is, most of us like to be in control and have a character defect of being in control. I know I do, and I have to daily let the reigns go and let God!

When I think of what unmanageability is, its not being able to exist or cope with your own personal choices anymore. Something or possibly someone is now holding a control, a compulsion over you that is hindering every decision you make. When I am under the control of picking up my first drink, I am no longer myself. I am no longer in control. All I care about is where the next one is at. I will lie, evade, manipulate, plot, scheme, and even literally run miles to a liquor store to get my hands on the next one.

The beauty of the creation of the human mind is we do have free choice. I get to curse a situation out, go for a walk, say the serenity prayer until I am blue in the face, or write another to do list (control defect still under warranty…) before I stare down that first drink ever again.

The gift I have with that definition and the sainthood of alcoholics anonymous is that I know I have freedom of choice. I also know the monster I can create within that choice.

I have memories. Memories of sprinting to liquor stores in the dead heat of summer and inhaling my drink. And then, this is so gross, running back home buzzed. I have memories of holding one hand steady to put a contact lens in or guide a mascara wand over my lashes because my hands were shaking so badly with morning withdrawal. I had to appear I had it together though, right.

Because we can’t let anyone in to know we have problems we can’t manage.

Guess what folks, God put us here on this Earth to put together a we solution, not a me problem.

We don’t have to manage life perfectly, we can share in things together so when these choices lead us to the miserable unmanageability feeling of hopelessness-we know we are not alone.

So be kind. Make the first right choice. Celebrate those beautiful milestones. Relish in the last outdoor days of Summer.

As always, if you need help, please know you are loved and I am only a phone call away.

Bull Shit and Serenity

I can remember being at a workshop once where we once were supposed to write a life mantra. Something to keep ourselves floating on a pink cloud of happiness, take back laminated to our offices, and smile with warm, down to Earth good feelings every time we look at this.

I hated this work shop. My anxiety was swirling into lists of everything I had to be doing back in my office (or after hours since I had signed up for an employee workshop meant to help with stress management.) The fringe benefits in front of me were not grasped with the authenticity they were meant to. The hypervigilant performer in myself pretended to muse, smiled, and volunteered to read mine out loud. I remember throwing that thing in the trash within a month.

I remember thinking revealing imperfect layers of yourself on any level were weakness and utter bull shit. Authentic wasn’t a word in my vocabulary. Its no wonder I strived so hard in so many areas of my life to fit in and be “liked.” I had no clue who the hell I was. I was an actress trying to please the world and excel at everything I touched (all while appearing flawlessly unruffled and rested.)

I hate that version of myself. It literally served me no purpose and kept me feeling so alone and isolated for so many years. Anxiety may have added benefits of stress cleaning that proves to have results in the end. Not being present is a determent; not an asset. It robs you of peace, serenrity, and true authenticity.

I bring all of this up as it came up on my walk today as I was thinking about what these definitions really are in my life. What are: joy, peace, serenity, and being truly authentic to me? What are they to other people? I need to know what they are so I can figure out some type of status quo in my life to maintain and properly protect with boundaries.

I refuse to be inauthentic in any area of my life anymore.

Serenity to me also means safety. Sadly, when I was attacked and assaulted on a running trail over 5 years ago, someone took that boundary of safety from me. Because of that I struggle with personal space with strange men, walking or runing alone in the dark (at night primarily) and sometimes even being approached by well meaning strangers. I’ve come a long way from even a year ago, but feeling safe in my own skin again is going to be a life long journey I don’t expect everyone to understand.

So this will have to be ongoing, fluid, and require rigorous honesty with myself. No more bull shit painted on smiles.

Its okay to feel things that don’t feel okay and process them in a healthy way.

Its not okay to bottle anything up that can lead to a resentment and mess up my recovery.

Do you.

Be you.

Find out what truly matters to you and protect it at all costs.

Adult Time Out Chairs

Everything happens
For a reason”
Is no reason not to ask myself

If I’m living it right
Am I living it right?
Am I living it right?
Why, tell me why
Why, why Georgia why?”

~John Mayer~

What do the terms boundaries and consequences mean to you? I’ve had to assert some boundaries in my personal life for my own serenity as of lately–and–its been very difficult. I’ve had to evaluate the terms in my personal life and questioned their meaning and fluidity. The ever changing definition of the word. Then I stumbled upon a woman’s personal quote from an in person speech she had given on good ‘ole Instagram.

“Boundaries have no value without consequences.” Diana N. Patterson M. Ed

That hit me like a ton of bricks. Its so simple at its core, yet as we progress into adulthood we overthink and complicate pretty much everything. A toddler hits another child, they go into a time out chair. Okay. So what is the adult version of this in our lives? We can’t make grown people sit in the corners of our homes….so how do we enforce the hits to our feelings, personal needs, inner peace, credibility, integrity, and spiritual fitness?

There are consequences for our actions. Boundaries are meant to value what we hold near. So step one is probably figuring out what that actually is. I am comfortable saying that at the end of the day I have to and need to have the following: sobriety, spiritual fitness, serenity of some baseline, lack of drama to maintain the first two, a connection with nature (even for a 5 minute walk), a conversation with God, gratitude, faith, and time for my partner and the people I love like family (and those that ARE family.)

Anything that messes with any of those things that I have worked so incredibly hard for needs to be put into an adult version of a time out chair in my life.

No ifs, ands, or butts.

This is easy to write out and point out to other people-but try acting it out.

I strive to live by the golden rule, and treat others the way I would want to be treated. That doesn’t always allot for a time to pause and grasp is this person treating me the way that I deserve to be treated or that is harming my precious recovery bubble of serenity. I have to hold a higher value on that. Even if it means putting someone on a time out in my life for now. I never make these decisions lightly, or base on one interaction (because we are all human and doing the very best we can.)

Either way I have to start valuing myself and what I have worked so hard for in my life to protect it. Just like parents don’t like handing out punishments all day long, I don’t like hitting delete, block ,and responding with “I’m sorry I can’t be there for you right now.” Trust me though…if I had to cut you off for now….I was handed the loppers not scissors to do so.

So this Sunday, I am going to challenge myself to one thing that I must protect and think hard about it while out getting some exercise. (I swear sometimes Lake Michigan and my conversations with God help me out with answers…) It may be sleep, less e-mail, less something, but I’m going to work to protect it.

After all value starts with v….v means victory and another beautiful day in recovery.

Never Judge a Book by Its Cover

” Just for today, I could live through this day only….Not deal with life’s problems. Just for today.” ~George Harrison~

I recently came across a picture of myself from say circa 2017. In this picture, I’m smiling, its summertime outside, I look put together, teal streak in my hair matches my dress, in front of the library where I was spending time working on wrapping up another degree-fun phone no less!

Things aren’t always what they seem. I had a hard time seeing this one.

Not because I was so in shape due to running so many miles (which was bore out of a bit of self hatred for myself at the time….) its because I was so very sick still at the time. I was suffering from an invisible disease that kills 88’000 at a minimum annually.

I was a full blown alcoholic in this picture. I had even been to treatment; so everyone assumed I hoped and prayed I was better.

I remember taking this picture and then sneaking alcohol into a public bathroom for consumption. I will spare you more details, because it just breaks my heart and I don’t want to trigger anyone. I had it ALL together though right. That day I had gone for a long run, gotten dressed to match my hair, enjoyed studying in the sun, planned ahead and more. I looked happy. I was so incredibly empty and in pain in the inside. That is what alcoholism is its pain.

I can remember for the longest time I often heard, “well you don’t look like an alcoholic.” I heard it in treatment, meetings, you name it. Guess what, its pain, its real, its raw and doesn’t discriminate. The pain of that girl from four years ago makes me wince. I just want to reach back in time and hug her.

The AA promises ask us to not regret the past, but not shut the door on it. This very much applies here. I can’t beat 2021 Kate up over the actions of 2017 Kate, however I have to remember and forever be vigilant. I could wake her up real quickly and throw away a lot of hard work if I wanted to. I also thank all of you who stood by and loved me at my worst back then-I know it couldn’t have been easy.

Its good to glimpse back to remember progress and remember what used to be. I took a walk that evening to return library books and stopped to take a similar photo in front of a similar building. I am older, tired after a long day, hair is dirty, not in as a great of physical shape, but sober and like myself so much more.

The pain and hiding is gone and I’m starting to see a new freedom.