A Seismic Shift

A quiet rumble beneath the surface — a pull toward change, honesty, and what’s next.

There’s something stirring lately — subtle but strong, like the first low rumble before an earthquake. With two months left in the year, I can feel a shift deep in my bones — not a surface-level restlessness, but something bigger. A recalibration. A yearning to change things up, to shed the old skin and step into something that feels truer.

I’ve felt this before in smaller ways — switching routines, changing creative direction, rearranging priorities. But this feels different. This one feels seismic.

Maybe it’s fatherhood that’s magnified it. Being a dad has a way of forcing perspective, of holding up a mirror to everything that matters and everything that doesn’t. You start to see how your time is spent — and more importantly, who you spend it with. You start realizing that the energy around you, the people around you, and the habits that shape your days are all reflections of who you are becoming.

Lately, I’ve been taking inventory — not just of my goals, but of myself. The kind of man I want to be. The kind of father, friend, and creator I’m still learning to grow into. And in that reflection, I’ve noticed how interconnected it all is. How you do anything is how you do everything.

If I cut corners in one place, I tend to do it in others. If I show up with intention — even in the small things, like how I make my coffee, how I listen, how I follow through — that energy carries everywhere else. The details, I’m learning, are never just details. They’re the DNA of who we’re becoming.

This shift feels like an invitation — less about running from something, more about running toward something. A cleaner rhythm. A clearer headspace. A life that’s more aligned than reactive.

I think that’s what the end of a year does to us. It shakes the dust off. It calls us to stop looking backward at what didn’t happen, and start looking forward to what still can. It’s a reminder that change doesn’t need to wait for January. The reset can start now — with one choice, one conversation, one brave step toward something new.

So here’s to the seismic shift. To the inner rumble that says something’s got to move.

Because maybe it’s not the ground breaking beneath us — maybe it’s just us breaking open.

And maybe that’s exactly what we need.

When I sit down to write music lately, I can feel that same tension — the quiet pull between who I’ve been and who I’m becoming. Every new song starts to feel like a small earthquake, shaking loose the dust of old habits and letting something more honest come through. The art mirrors the life, and the life fuels the art.

This season, I’m less interested in looking back at what I’ve made and more curious about what’s still waiting to be written — in music, in fatherhood, in friendship, in myself. The shift is happening whether I’m ready or not.