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When One Small Thing Is Enough to Keep Going

Real transformation often starts in the depths of isolation, where even the smallest comfort can matter.


In my junior year of high school, I retreated to my attic room and stayed there. I lived off video games, sleep, and whatever numbed me enough to get through the day.

My world had shrunk to the size of my failures.


The only thing keeping me connected to anything outside that room was a small, underground band I found online—kids my age chasing a dream. I wasn't a musician. I had no real role. But something about them gave me a fragile thread of hope. And then they broke up.


I didn’t have a backup plan.


That winter disappeared from my memory. I don’t remember what I did or how I got through it.


What I do remember is what came after, a trip my parents talked me into, back to northern Minnesota. I didn’t want to go, but I went. And during those few days, I saw something I hadn’t seen in years: a life that felt like it could still maybe work for me.


A Life That Already Exists


What changed wasn’t dramatic. I didn’t come back with a five-year plan or a fire in my chest. But I remembered that I used to like water, woods, and quiet. I remembered what it felt like to walk through a forest and not feel crushed by my thoughts. I saw a different kind of life, slower, simpler, one I might actually survive in.


I asked my dad if people lived there year-round. He said yes. That was all I needed. I didn’t know how, and I didn’t even really believe it would happen. But it was the first time in a long time I could imagine something besides the room I’d been rotting in.


Start with What’s Left


Here’s what I’ve learned: you don’t need to have everything figured out to start moving forward. You just need one thing that matters enough to give you a reason to stay. For me, it was the idea of nature, of escaping to a quieter place. For someone else I once worked with, it was as simple as pizza, the one thing that still brought them joy.


It doesn’t matter how small it seems. What matters is that you can use it as a foothold. From there, you can slowly begin to rebuild, maybe it’s going back to school, reconnecting with someone, or just practicing showing up for yourself a little more each day.


It doesn’t matter if your starting point feels small or even silly. What matters is that it matters to you. That’s where you begin to reconfigure the pieces of your life and steer out of the downward spiral.


You Don’t Have to Have It All Figured Out


I never did move to that cabin, and my life looks nothing like what I imagined during that dark year. But imagining it saved me. It gave me something to move toward when I couldn’t see anything else ahead.


You don’t need to know your whole future. You just need something that feels worth sticking around for. Find the memory, the place, the experience—no matter how small—that reminds you there’s still something here for you. Start there. Build from there. And trust that more will follow.


I hope this personal story helps you find just one tiny spark - even something as simple as a childhood memory or favorite food - that can become the foundation for rebuilding your life.



Scott

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