The last couple of days? They’ve been good. Not perfect. Not flashy. Not headline-worthy. But good—and right now, that counts for everything. Because here’s the truth most people don’t talk about: rising up doesn’t happen in giant leaps… it happens in small, steady steps. Think about songwriting for a second. You don’t sit down and suddenly have a full song. You start with a line. A hook. A feeling. Sometimes it’s messy. Sometimes it’s not even that good. But it’s something. And that something? That’s the spark. Life works the exact same way. A few weeks ago, things felt heavy. Unclear. Like standing in fog with no map. Now? Nothing magical happened overnight. No big “movie moment.” Just small things: Showing up Taking a step Doing the next right thing Helping someone Getting through the day And those small things started stacking. That’s where hope sneaks in. And here’s something important—especially for the rockstars out there: You care. Deeply. You feel things. You give a lot of yourself to others. That’s a strength… but it can also drain you if you’re not careful. Because when you’re always pouring out and not refilling? Your cup runs dry. So this is the balance: Help people… because that’s who you are But don’t forget to help yourself too Give… but not at the cost of losing yourself Even something as simple as a regular job—yeah, not glamorous, not stage lights and encores—can still be meaningful. Because: You’re showing up You’re building something You’re helping people You’re creating momentum And momentum is everything. So here’s today’s reminder: 👉 Celebrate the small wins 👉 Build on the little things 👉 Don’t wait for perfect—start with something 👉 Keep stacking those steps Because one line becomes a verse… One verse becomes a song… And one small step? That’s how you rise. Keep going. You’re closer than you think.

📞 Call, Don’t Text We’ve gotten way too comfortable living inside little bubbles of text messages. “Thinking of you.” “Hope you’re good.” “Let’s catch up soon.” And then… nothing. That silence after a text? That dead space? If someone’s struggling, that doesn’t feel neutral—it feels like a gut punch. Because here’s the truth: When someone is hurting, they don’t need a notification… They need a voice. I’ve been on both sides of this. There were times I was going through it—really going through it—and people who I thought would show up… didn’t. I remember one night after my divorce, two people who said they’d be there both canceled. Same night. Bad excuses. And you sit there like… “Alright. I guess it’s just me tonight.” That sticks with you. Not because they were bad people—but because in that moment, what I needed wasn’t a message. I needed a human being. 🔥 A Call Changes Everything When you call someone, you’re saying: “You matter enough for my time.” “I’m here with you, not just checking a box.” “You’re not alone right now.” They hear your tone. They feel your presence. They know you didn’t just fire off a quick text between other things. That matters more than you think. And no—you don’t need to have the answers. You don’t need to fix their life. Half the time, just being there is the fix. 🤝 Service Heals Both Sides Here’s something I’ve learned the hard way: When your own life feels like it’s spinning… Go help someone else. Call someone who’s struggling. Check in. Stay on the phone. Listen. It takes the edge off your own chaos. It grounds you. It reminds you who you are. That’s part of what Rise Up a Rockstar is all about— We don’t just rise alone. We rise by lifting others. 👊 Especially for the Guys Men—we’ve got to be better at this. We’re not great at asking for help. And honestly? We’re not always great at showing up either. The women in our lives—friends, sisters, partners—they tend to check in, gather around, support, talk things through. They show up. We need to take a page from that.

Update for all of you.

Just checking in. I've been slacking and wanting to let everybody know that things are going good.I've secured a new job and i'm working my tools and my Rise Tools.

I heard a powerful song recently by Fraser Morgan called Call Me Mate. It’s about men’s mental health and the simple message behind it is one we all need to hear: Before it’s too late… call your mate. Not a text. Not a meme. Not a quick “you good?” message. Actually call them. Too many men walk around carrying heavy things in silence because they feel like they’re supposed to be strong, supposed to have it all together, supposed to deal with it on their own. But the truth is, sometimes what someone needs most is simply to know that someone cares enough to reach out and listen. We see it happen all the time. When someone dies, suddenly everyone shows up and says the same things: “I wish I had known.” “I wish they had called me.” “I wish I could have helped.” But sometimes the reality is that the person who was struggling was waiting for someone to call them. This idea actually inspired a song I wrote called “Don’t Come to My Funeral.” It imagines someone looking down at their own funeral and seeing people who never reached out while they were alive—people who didn’t have time then, but somehow found time once it was too late. Sometimes people show up out of guilt, or habit, or because that’s just what people do when someone dies. But the truth is, your mate doesn’t need you at his funeral. He needs you now. You don’t need perfect words. You don’t need to be a therapist. Just say something simple: “Hey man, I’ve been thinking about you. How are you really doing?” And if you don’t know how to talk to someone who’s struggling, learn. Read about it. Listen more than you talk. Sometimes just being present can make all the difference. So here’s a small challenge for the Rise Up Rockstar community today: think of one person in your life who might be carrying more than they let on. The friend who’s been quiet. The one who always says they’re “fine.” The one who jokes through everything. Call them. Don’t wait until someone is in the ground to show them they mattered. Sometimes the strongest thing we can do for each other is simply remind someone that they’re not alone.