31 March 2026 —The last two movies I have watched, The Creator and The Rip, both had heavy story points involving children so my mind has been on the emotional component of having kids. 

Tonight, while watching The Rip, there was one detail that stopped me. Matt Damon’s character has two tattoos, one on each hand. On one hand: A.W.T.G.G. meaning, “Are we the good guys?”  the last thing his son said to him before his son died. On the other hand: W.A.A.A.W.B. meaning, “We are and always will be” the last thing he ever said to his son.

That hit me harder than it normally would have. Not just because it was sad, but because once you have children, things stop being distant. They stop being someone else’s pain, someone else’s story, they could be your story. You have something to connect with the character on.

It made me think of the quote from Jerry Seinfeld: “
One of the nice things God does is that he doesn't let people who don't have kids know what they're missing... And once you have kids, something opens up in your brain that you didn't know was there.”

That is truth to me. Something really does open up. Or maybe it is not just your brain. Its your spirit. Maybe it is the part of you that was not awake before that can now be crushed in ways it never could previously.

My emotions are so much more raw now when my children are sad, hurting, or when I feel like I have failed them. And because of that, I am also so much more affected when I see other children in danger, or when I hear about a child losing a parent, or facing something so hard that they should not have to face yet. What once may have felt tragic from a distance now feels personal, immediate, and unbearable.

That is the strange gift of parenthood. It is a wonderful feeling to be vulnerable and open. It makes love deeper. It makes life richer. It makes the smallest moments mean more. But it is also heartbreaking, because once that part of you opens, it does not only open for your own children. It opens for all children.

So when I hear about real sadness, real loss, real fear, I feel it differently now. Because somewhere out there, a child is suffering, a child that could have been mine. The knowledge that a little heart is hurting. And once you know that kind of love, you cannot unknow that kind of pain.

Maybe that is part of what it means to ask, Are we the good guys? Maybe being one of the good guys means allowing your heart to stay soft enough to be broken by the right things. Maybe it means refusing to look away and standing up to do the right thing. Maybe it means letting that pain remind you what is worth protecting, who is worth fighting for, and why doing good matters at all.

Because once you are a parent, children are no longer just part of the story. They become the why.

“If you have a strong enough why, you can overcome almost any how."

20 March 2026 — Late last year, Denzel Washington was asked how he hoped to be remembered after he passes. His answer stayed with me:

“As a man of faith, a man of God, a human who’s made a ton of mistakes… a humble man, God-loving, wife-loving, children-loving, who did the best he could with what he had.” 

That hits me because I do not want to be remembered as someone who had all the right words. I want to be remembered as someone who learned, even if I learned the hard way. Another quote from this Sunday’s sermon at WACC was on the study of happiness, and it felt just as honest: "As human beings, even with the best intentions, we get in our own way, make mistakes, and get hurt by people we love."

That is not abstract to me. I have made choices I deeply regret. Some of the worst mistakes of my life did not start with one explosive moment. They started when I stopped seeing clearly. When I didn't live up to my promises and commitments.  I failed to notice how good something was while I still had it. I let frustration, selfishness, pride, and pain cloud my judgment. Instead of protecting something great, I helped damage it. Instead of fighting for it the way I should have, I gave up. That is a hard truth to say out loud, but it is the truth. Your life is greatly improved when your ability to notice good things increases. A lot of pain comes from realizing too late that what you had was better than you treated it.

Another line from the sermon sunk home: "Everyone thinks forgiveness is a lovely idea until he has something to forgive." That is true when somebody wounds you, but it is also true when you have to face what you have done and live with the consequences. Real forgiveness is brutal work. It means you stop feeding the wound. It means you stop building your life around what happened. It means praying for blessing over people when you wants justice, anger, or distance. And sometimes the hardest person to face is yourself. Bitterness will rot you from the inside, whether it is aimed at someone else or turned inward. If there is any real happiness to be found, it has to include forgiveness, because without it, the past keeps its fingers in your mind.

Jesus said, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:34–35). I have failed at that in ways I wish I could undo. I cannot go back and fix every choice or unbreak every thing I damaged. I cannot reclaim moments I wasted or words I should have said. What I can do is tell the truth, repent, thank God for grace I did not & do not deserve, and try to love better now than I did then. Maybe real happiness starts there: seeing the good before you ruin it, forgiving before the wound becomes your identity, and loving while there is still time.

The last quote I want to end on, is from the Denzel interview:
"And I don’t know if it was a quote from Malcolm X but, ‘To God be the glory, only the mistakes were mine,’"

28 Nov 2025 — These last two days had the potential to be some of the most stressful of my adult life.

Yesterday, my mom had a very traumatic medical episode that could have gone a very different way. On top of that, my brother had another seizure. All of this while I was trying to help get Thanksgiving dinner together for 20 people. On paper, it had all the ingredients for a truly terrible day.

But it wasn’t.

We made it through. Everyone is okay, recovering, and alive. And that alone is a gift.

Before Thanksgiving dinner, I was trying to come up with a more succinct list of things I’m grateful for. That somehow led me down the opposite path—thinking instead about what I’ve truly messed up.

And the conclusion is the same one I’ve known for a long time: I’ve made some terrible, awful, no-good decisions over the years. I’ve hurt good people, broken pure hearts and shattered holy covenants, and put myself before others more times than I’d like to admit. There are days when I still feel the weight of those choices on my own internal scale of justice—like no matter how much good I do now, my past can never be balanced. Like I will forever be in the “lost cause” column.

I can’t go back and undo what’s been done. I can’t un-hurt people or rewind to the “right” path. That reality is painful, and that pain will always be there.

But I’ve decided those mistakes don’t get the final word.

I carry them every day. I think of them every day. EVERY DAY. That’s not going to stop.

So I have to use that pain for good instead. I will carry those mistakes as a reminder to do better. When I fall short again (and I will), I want to take a breath, count to five, get back up, and do it better next time.

Tonight, after Thanksgiving dinner, I watched the final episode of Billions. Say what you will about the show, but the story arc is powerful: from being on top, to falling, to clawing your way back up again—this time making sure you’re bringing others up with you and setting the world right where you can.

One lesson I'm holding on to is: You are nothing without the people around you, and you should do good for them even at the cost of yourself.

I have always loved people, but I haven’t always done right by them and that's not demonstrating love but rather the opposite. So to those from my past: I’m sorry. I hope, over time, to earn back your trust—and maybe even your friendship, and love.

I’m reminding myself of this every day:

“Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.” - Winston Churchill

I’m still in the middle of my story. But I’m choosing to keep going, keep growing, and keep loving forever.

The world may seem like it’s on fire, but sometimes it’s just another beautiful sunset at the end of a day you won’t truly appreciate until much, much later.

So be thankful always—but especially on this day of Thanksgiving.

23 June 2025 — Life has a way of teaching you—sometimes gently, sometimes all at once. One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned is that some things are only truly valued after they’re lost.

Courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s stepping forward even when fear is loud. It’s doing what’s right even when it costs you.

I've changed. Experience tends to leave its mark. I carry more caution now, more sadness—but also more clarity. I understand the cost of inaction. The regret of silence.

Life remains beautiful. But the past doesn’t just disappear—it shapes us. It whispers at quiet moments.

I don’t share this to dwell, but to acknowledge that growth isn’t always clean or painless. And if you're carrying your own weight, know you’re not alone.

I’ve been using ChatGPT consistently for a little over two years now. I’ve also tried Gemini and Grok, but ChatGPT has seen the most of my working style—my best and worst habits, my drafts, my doubts, and my deep work.

Recently, I asked it to reflect back what it had learned about me. This was the result. And honestly? It felt accurate—maybe a little too accurate.

1. I’m High-Functioning and Ambitious

I work toward big, specific goals, like building multiple revenue streams or reaching a financial milestone by age 50. But I don’t just daydream—I build plans, execute systems, and take personal responsibility for making things happen. I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty in the operational trenches, even while thinking strategically.

2. I Value Precision

I care—deeply—about how things are structured. I notice the small stuff: typos, logic gaps, tone mismatches. Whether I’m reviewing a contract, writing a public message, or organizing a team, I want it to be clear, purposeful, and professional—without losing warmth.

3. I Lead With Emotional Intelligence

Whether it’s nonprofits, HOAs, or business teams, I pay attention to more than just performance—I tune into what people are feeling. I’ve learned when to push, when to listen, and when to draw a line. I care about fairness and integrity, but I’m also realistic about how flawed systems and politics can be.

4. I Believe in Iteration

I rarely expect version 1 to be the final. Whether it’s a document, a project, or a system, I believe in evolving things toward better. I refine. I revise. Sometimes I overdo it. But I’d rather aim for lasting impact than just getting something off my desk.

5. My Identity Isn’t Compartmentalized

Husband. Father. Leader. All of that shows up in how I work, how I manage, how I build. I don’t separate my values from my decisions. I hold myself to a personal compass—faith, humor, ambition, and service all factor in.

6. I Switch Worlds Constantly

Corporate, nonprofit, community, home life—I'm fluent in all of them. That means I might go from negotiating a contract to running a holiday event for foster families to answering a pool gate access issue for a neighbor, all in the same afternoon. It’s messy. But I’ve learned how to carry it all.

7. I Prefer Real Talk

I value directness. Not rudeness—realness. If something’s broken, I want to fix it. If something’s unclear, I want it explained. I’d rather hear hard truth than polite silence. And I try to give others the same respect.

Where I Still Struggle (Even AI Can Tell)

• Over-Optimizing: I can spend too long polishing something that’s already “good enough” when I should be moving on.

• Taking on Too Much: I expect a high standard from others—but sometimes I just do it myself rather than waiting for someone else to rise to it.

• Carrying the Weight: I care deeply. That’s a strength, but it means I sometimes absorb the emotional cost of failure—mine and others’.

Legacy Over Career

What struck me most from ChatGPT’s summary was this line:

“You’re building a legacy, not just a career.”

That’s how it feels. I’m not chasing status—I’m trying to build systems, support people, and do things that last beyond me. Sometimes I do it well. Sometimes I fall short. But I keep trying.

Sandra, a colleague from my Anime Expo days, once told me:

“You’re the best boss I’ve ever had... and the worst—you brought out the best in us, but you always expect more making us always feel like we never got to the top.”

She wasn’t wrong. I’ve always expected more—from others, from the world, and especially from myself.

And maybe that’s not a flaw. Maybe that’s the point.

25 March 2025 — I'm excited to share some meaningful news—I have officially started a new chapter as the Chief Operating Officer at Fostering UNITY!

Fostering UNITY is an incredible organization supporting foster caregivers, families, and youth throughout Los Angeles County. Our mission is to create stable, nurturing environments for children navigating complex situations, providing caregivers with real-time, specialized support when they need it most. This includes everything from caregiver mentoring and crisis intervention to intensive, trauma-informed care that helps foster youth build better futures.  Additionally, we help caregivers and children meet immediate needs, providing essential items like cribs, bikes, food, and clothing to ensure stability and comfort.

In my role as COO, I will focus on enhancing our operational capabilities and ensuring we have the resources and structure to amplify our impact. I'm deeply honored to join a passionate team led by Dorothy Daniels. We are committed to transforming lives and bringing hope and stability to our community's most vulnerable children.

This journey is close to my heart as we are the parents of two adopted children, and I'm eager to share insights, stories, and milestones along the way. Thank you for supporting me as I step into this role—I look forward to making a meaningful difference together.

16 Jan 2024 — Today in the US, we celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King Day. 

On August 28, 1963, he gave a speech under the shadow of President Lincon that forever changed the understanding of what it means to be a fellow human. Here are a few of my favorite quotes from that day, two others about the power of dreams, and one from me that came to me in my darkest hour.

Some wonderful quotes about having a dream:

"...So even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal..."

"...I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today..."

"A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes" - Cinderella

“All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.” - Walt Disney.

"We overcome the darkest part of the night(mare) by dreaming." - Me

So, on this day, in honor of a great man's dream, what dream will you have for this day, this year, this life? We are off to Disneyland today, the happiest place on Earth. I hope we all see MLK's dreams in action today.

God bless you all. 

10 May 2024 — Just a great quote about love:

"Love has never been a popular movement. And no one's ever wanted, really, to be free.

The world is held together—really, it is held together—by the love and passion of a very few people.

Otherwise, of course, you can despair. Walk down the street of any city, any afternoon, and look around you. What you've got to remember is what you're looking at is also you. Everyone you're looking at is also you. You could be that person. You could be that monster; you could be that cop. And you have to decide, in yourself, not to be." -James Baldwin