The Climb

Tag: dailyprompt

  • Now That’s a Question!

    In what ways do you communicate online?

    I don’t communicate online to be liked.
    I communicate to be clear.
    That already puts me at odds with most of the internet.
    Online spaces reward performance not truth.
    Tone gets polished. Edges get sanded. Language gets diluted so nobody feels “called out,” even when they should be called up.
    That’s not how I use my voice.
    I Communicate the Same Way I Lead
    Direct. Observant. Responsible.
    I don’t post to posture. I post to document what I’m seeing.
    I write from the floor level, where work actually happens, where decisions land, where consequences live long after a meeting ends.


    If something is broken, I name it.
    If someone does it right, I acknowledge it.
    If a system rewards silence, I say so.
    That honesty doesn’t always travel well online. I’m fine with that.
    I Don’t Confuse Engagement With Impact.
    Likes are easy.
    Applause is cheap.
    Silence is often the loudest feedback there is.
    When I write, I’m not chasing reactions. I’m leaving markers.
    Something a leader might come back to later.
    Something a worker might feel seen by.
    Something that makes someone pause before repeating the same mistake.
    If a post makes you uncomfortable, but still thinking hours later  it worked.
    I Choose Precision Over Volume
    I don’t flood feeds.
    I don’t trend-hop.
    I don’t post because the algorithm is hungry.
    I post when there’s weight behind the words I speak.
    Every sentence should earn its place.
    Every observation should come from experience, not opinion.
    Every critique should carry responsibility, not contempt.
    If I can’t stand behind it in person, it doesn’t belong online.
    I Communicate With Memory in Mind
    The internet forgets fast.
    People don’t.
    I write knowing someone may screenshot it.
    Quote it.
    Challenge it.
    Carry it into a room I’m not in.
    That’s fine. I write accordingly.
    No anonymous shots.
    No vague accusations.
    No borrowed outrage.
    Just lived experience, articulated cleanly.
    This Is How I Communicate Online
    I speak the way I wish more leaders would:
    With clarity instead of comfort
    With accountability instead of performance
    With respect for the people doing the work
    Not everything needs to be said.
    But what does get said should mean something.


    That’s the climb

  • The Quiet Weight I’ve Been Carrying

    What are your biggest challenges?

    Happy 2026!

    For a long time, I thought my strength was endurance.
    I believed that if I could just keep pushing, keep carrying, keep solving, keep holding it all together eventually things would stabilize on their own. I thought pressure was proof that I was doing something right. That exhaustion was just part of the calling.
    But here’s the truth I’ve had to face:
    My biggest challenge isn’t lack of effort.
    It’s carrying too much alone for too long without stopping to consolidate what I’ve already built.
    I move fast. I see patterns early. I feel responsibility deeply. When something needs fixing, I step in often before I’m asked. I don’t wait for permission to carry weight. I just shoulder it.
    And for a while, that works.
    Until it doesn’t.
    What I’ve realized is that I often move from pressure to pressure. I solve the next problem, climb the next hill, answer the next call without pausing long enough to secure the ground beneath my feet. I outgrow environments faster than I extract stability from them. I give more than the structure around me is designed to return.
    That’s not humility.
    That’s exposure.
    Endurance has kept me alive, but endurance alone doesn’t build longevity.
    There’s a difference between being strong and being positioned.
    Between surviving and standing.
    Faith has been forcing me to slow down not to stop moving, but to move with intention. God hasn’t been telling me to push harder. He’s been telling me to stand where I am, plant my feet, and let what I’ve already built start carrying me.
    This season isn’t about proving anything. It’s about simplifying. It’s about anchoring. It’s about stacking wins deliberately instead of chasing momentum blindly.
    I’m learning that consolidation isn’t retreat. It’s strategy.
    And rest isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom.
    The climb doesn’t always mean going higher. Sometimes it means learning how to hold the ground you’ve already earned.
    I’m still climbing. Just smarter now. More rooted. More aware.
    And that might be the strongest position I’ve ever taken.
    — The Climb

  • Lately, I’ve learned discernment.

    What skills or lessons have you learned recently?

    Not the loud kind that announces itself, but the quiet kind that decides what stays and what goes without drama.
    I’ve learned that not everything has to justify its presence by being useful, productive, or impressive. Some things earn their place by surviving change. By traveling with me. By remaining steady when everything else shifts.
    I’ve learned to tell the difference between clinging and choosing.
    I’ve learned that letting go isn’t always growth and that keeping something doesn’t automatically mean fear. Sometimes it means continuity. Sometimes it means knowing where you come from so you don’t get lost while moving forward.
    I’ve also learned restraint. Not everything needs to be explained. Not every decision needs a defense. Quiet confidence is often stronger than clarity performed for others.
    If there’s a skill in that, it’s this:
    I’m better at choosing what I carry forward into my space, my time, and my life.

    That’s not small. That’s earned.

  • Built, Not Broken

    What will your life be like in three years?

    Three years from now, I won’t be explaining my worth — it’ll be visible in everything I’ve built.
    The noise, the doubt, the nights that almost broke me — they’ll all read like chapters from the training manual of a man who refused to fold.

    By then, the house will be steady. The business will run clean. The storms that once had my name on them will be distant weather reports.
    And I’ll still be climbing — not for recognition, but for peace.

    Three years from now, I see clarity. I see my name on the door of something I own. I see family that moves in harmony, not argument. I see a man who finally stopped surviving and started living.

    Because all this pain I’m pushing through right now — it’s not punishment. It’s construction.

    #TheClimb  #BuiltNotBroken  #KeepGoing  #LegacyBuilding

    Still Building!

  • What Alternative Career Paths Have You Considered or Are Interested In?

    What alternative career paths have you considered or are interested in?

    There are moments in life when you stop, look around, and realize the path you’re on might not be the only one meant for you. I’ve spent years working in Environmental Services — learning, leading, cleaning, managing — rising from the bottom rung all the way into leadership. It taught me discipline, patience, and pride. But lately, as life has slowed me down and forced me to look deeper, I’ve started asking myself: what else am I capable of?

    I’ve thought about writing full-time — because words have always been my therapy. I’ve imagined standing behind a camera, capturing the world as I see it, turning pain and faith into something visual. I’ve dreamed of mentoring, of building a business that lifts up the forgotten workers — the ones who clean, who grind, who never get the spotlight but make the world function.

    But these aren’t just ideas. They’re reflections of my spirit evolving. I’m learning that careers aren’t just jobs; they’re extensions of who you are becoming. Every late night, every heartbreak, every time I hit rock bottom — it’s been shaping me for something larger. I don’t know the exact form yet, but I feel it pulling me forward like gravity.

    The climb isn’t just about titles or paychecks. It’s about purpose. And purpose changes as you do. Maybe my next path will be in storytelling, maybe business, maybe leadership — or maybe it’ll be something that doesn’t even have a name yet. Whatever it is, I want it to make people feel something. I want it to heal and build.

    So when I think about alternative paths, I’m really thinking about legacy. I’m thinking about my mother’s faith, my cousin Ben’s wisdom, my wife’s support, and my own resilience. I’m thinking about what I’ll leave behind — not in things, but in lives touched.

    Because no matter what path I take next, one thing remains true:
    I’m still climbing.

  • What I’ve Been Putting Off Doing — And Why

    What have you been putting off doing? Why?

    There’s a strange kind of silence that lives inside procrastination. It’s not loud. It doesn’t scream. It whispers. It hides behind excuses, behind responsibilities, behind grief and exhaustion. It tells you, “I’ll get to it tomorrow.” And then tomorrow becomes next week, and next week becomes never.

    I’ve been living with that silence for a while now.

    There are things I keep putting off — things I know I need to face, things that would move me forward — but I keep pushing them aside. Not because I don’t care. Not because I’m lazy. But because life has been heavy, and the weight of everything I carry sometimes makes even the smallest step feel like lifting a mountain.

    Facing Myself

    I’ve been putting off really facing myself.
    The truth is, I’ve been tired — not just the kind of tired that sleep fixes, but the kind that sits deep in your bones. The kind that makes you question if the climb is even worth it. And every time I start to sit down and confront that feeling, I find something else to do. Clean the kitchen. Run an errand. Scroll on my phone. Anything but sit still with my own thoughts.

    But the truth doesn’t go away because I ignore it.
    I’ve been avoiding it because facing myself means facing my fears — that maybe I’m not doing enough, that maybe I’m not enough. But deep down, I know that’s not true. Deep down, I know facing myself is the only way I’ll grow.

    Finishing What I Started

    I’ve started projects and dreams that mean everything to me. The Climb Blog. The YouTube channel. The stories I want to write. The goals I keep tucked away. But they’re still sitting there, waiting for me to pick them up again.

    Why? Because grief slows me down. Because uncertainty weighs me down. Because every time I try to focus on the future, the present demands all my attention — job searches, bills, health scares, responsibilities.

    I’ve been putting off finishing what I started because finishing means committing. And committing means risking failure. But I know I’d rather fail trying than regret never finishing at all.

    Letting Myself Heal

    Maybe the biggest thing I’ve been putting off is allowing myself to really grieve. Losing my mother has been a wound I still don’t know how to touch. I clean. I cook. I stay busy. I do everything except sit in the silence and admit how broken I feel inside.

    Grief is terrifying because it changes you. It strips you down and forces you to rebuild from pieces you never thought you’d have to pick up. And I think part of me has been afraid that if I start grieving, I won’t know how to stop.

    But maybe that’s the point. Maybe healing isn’t about finishing grief — maybe it’s about living with it and still finding reasons to move forward.

    The Why

    So why do I put things off? Because I’m human. Because I’m scared. Because I’m exhausted. Because some days, just getting out of bed and trying again is all I have in me. And that’s okay.

    It’s okay to pause. It’s okay to not have it all figured out. It’s okay to admit that you’re carrying more than people realize.

    What matters is that you don’t stop forever.

    The Promise

    This is me holding myself accountable. This is me saying: No more hiding from what I need to do. I will face myself. I will finish what I started. I will allow myself to heal.

    Not all at once. Not perfectly. But step by step. One breath, one decision, one climb at a time.

    Because the mountain isn’t going anywhere. And neither am I.

    💭 What are you putting off? And what would happen if you started today?

  • “If Money Didn’t Matter: The Vision I’d Build in Hollywood”

    List three jobs you’d consider pursuing if money didn’t matter.

    If money didn’t matter, I’d go all in on starting my own cleaning business, right here in Hollywood. No hesitation, no halfway steps—just me, my vision, and a relentless drive to make it real.

    Hollywood has two sides. There’s the bright lights and red carpets, and then there’s the back rooms, the mom-and-pop shops, the barbershops and gyms trying to hold it together while the city keeps moving. That’s where I’d focus. I’d create a service that doesn’t just clean, but elevates—making those spaces shine in a way that matches the heart and hustle of the people who run them.

    I’d build a team from scratch, bringing in people who’ve been overlooked, people who just need someone to believe in them. It wouldn’t be just about a paycheck. It’d be about building a crew with purpose, teaching them the value of excellence and pride in their craft.

    I see this business becoming a trusted name, not because of flashy ads, but because of reputation. The kind of reputation that spreads when you do the job so well, people can’t help but talk.

    If money wasn’t part of the equation, my energy would be the same—maybe even stronger. This wouldn’t just be a business. It would be my footprint on Hollywood, one spotless floor, one shining window, and one small business lifted up at a time.

  • Living in the Moment with Intention

    What could you do more of?

    I am already a natural climber — always moving, always fighting.
    But if there’s one thing I can do more of, it’s living in the moment with intention.

    Sometimes I get so focused on the grind — job hunting, building The Climb, taking care of my family — that I forget to slow down and just be present.

    I need to do more of:

    Spending quiet moments in reflection and prayer.

    Laughing with my family and sharing time without distractions.

    Pausing to acknowledge my wins, even the small ones.

    These moments may seem small, but they give me the strength to keep climbing.
    The climb isn’t only about the steps I take forward — it’s also about the breaths I take in between.

    By doing more of this, I’ll be able to keep pushing forward while staying grounded, focused, and at peace.