The Shit That Changed Everything — Redefining My Life!

There I was, taking a shit. Yes, a shit — staring out the window at the bare tree limbs, the snow-covered ground, the occasional flurry drifting by. And in that moment, it hit me: life isn’t some grand parade for most people. It’s as routine and unremarkable as a morning shit. No ocean waves crashing against the rocks. No butler delivering coffee in fine china. Just the same daily grind, over and over.

Yet, we all chase the bells and whistles of success. I know I do. Because deep down, we believe wealth brings freedom from worry. That if we just had more — more money, more luxury, more status — the weight of everyday life would lift. No more struggling. No more stress.

But the truth? More money does equals more problems. Even the rich get their asses handed to them by life. You can have every bill paid on time, own everything you ever wanted, and still find yourself getting sucker-punched by reality. Wealth doesn’t erase problems; it just swaps them for a different set. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the real epiphany.

So how do you redefine yourself when life feels basic? How do you heal when all hell is breaking loose — and you’ve run out of toilet paper to wipe your ass? You make a choice. You decide to rewrite the definition of life. You choose to change what isn’t working. You find a way to end the things not working. You buy bulk toilet paper or load up on cheap one ply. I’m just saying that the truth is change equals you making a decision to do what has held you back. To stop taking what you don’t deserve or whatever is the ultimate shit in your life. Remove the toxins and relieve yourself.

I realize now that healing isn’t about pretending life hasn’t handed you a helluva run of upsets served as ice-cold soup. It’s not about denial. It’s about reframing — choosing to see life differently, no matter how ugly it gets. It’s sad, but true: it took me 5o years, a good shit, and looking at a snow-covered tree to realize I’d spent too much time letting bad moments erase the good ones. I worried instead of focusing on what I could control.

But every sad moment has a lesson. And now? I’m finally ready to learn from it. I refuse to stay stuck in complaints and regret. In the game of life, failure — like shit — happens. But it doesn’t have to be the final loss.

As long as we live, shit will happen — literally and figuratively. But I’m redefining my journey. Taking back control. Owning my last days on this earth with the understanding that, in the end, life and shit just happen.