Here is my answer, plainly. I believe you have enough money the moment you can give some of it to someone who asks. When a person is holding a sign that says hungry, I give them $20, and I do not experience that as a sacrifice. I have given tens of thousands of dollars to homeless people over the last decade this way, and it is one of the things I enjoy most.
It does not always go the way I picture it. The newest section on this page, A Family Ripped My $20 in Half. I Still Give, and Here's Why It Feels So Good., comes from a live stream where I told the story of a kid who came to my car for $20, and four or five of his family who stormed it right after, until a mother snatched a bill from her little girl and they tore it in half. I also explain why I keep giving anyway: when someone gives, the giver feels good, the receiver feels good, and studies suggest even the people who only witness it feel good.
In 2026 I am giving from borrowed money. I borrowed $90,000 to rebuild my YouTube channels, and I still hand $20 to every homeless person I pass. The section I Gave $20 to Homeless People With Borrowed Money and Called It Abundance explains why: a rich person giving is not special, while giving when you barely have anything is what counts. I measure financial success now by health, generosity and how much I enjoy what I have, not by net worth.
I did not always see it this way. For years I would argue with somebody rather than hand over a dollar, and that was an unhappy way to live. The posts below run from late 2025 to the autumn of 2026, and reading them in order shows the change.
The earliest post, I Was Surviving, Not Serving, is an excerpt from my memoir about fourteen years of internet fame. I admit I had been telling myself I was serving the collective online, when really I was in scarcity mode and afraid, and the way out was to move from survival into contribution and connect face to face through AA meetings, yoga and massage.
I Serve First, the Money Follows came a couple of weeks later. I was sketching small in-person masterminds where single people could share what was working in their dating lives, at around $30 a person.
The same month, Learning to Love Wider Than My Family pushed the idea further. Flying to Michigan in the middle of my divorce, I wrote that my love had been narrowly focused on my kids, my ex-wife and a small circle of friends, and asked whether it could reach the strangers around me in the airport.
By January 2026, in How Can I Make Somebody Else's Life Better, the question had turned practical. I was working out what business I could build around helping people, and I was candid that my earlier direct-mail letters read more like a sales pitch than real help.
The summer of 2026 brought the view into everyday life. In When the World Feels Hopeless, Give Value to People, I wrote that the quickest way out of a down day was to ask how I could help someone else.
Why I Give $20 to Anyone Asking for Help on the Street is the most direct statement of the view. I tip $20 on a $40 bill, and I give because I know how close most of us are to the street; I was an alcoholic, and the only reason I was not on it was that my parents took care of me. Online it is harder: once I sent $20 on PayPal to a man who asked for it, and soon his friends and family were all asking too, so I give where I can see the person.
Underneath all of this is a belief I state plainly: there is enough to go around. I live in St. Pete, Florida, where million-dollar houses are going up next door, and a man outside a store told me most people gave nothing, or a dollar at most. You have enough money when you can give to people who ask you for help.
Below this opening you will find the contents and then every post in full, oldest to newest if you want the arc. You can also see what I am making this month in my October 2026 vlogs.
If you want to work through your own giving, your relationship with money, or your next step, you can get a personal video review from me at https://jerrybanfield.com/review/.
On this page
Every post I have written on this subject is below in full, newest first, each under its own heading.
- A Family Ripped My $20 in Half. I Still Give, and Here's Why It Feels So Good. (October 17, 2026)
- I Gave $20 to Homeless People With Borrowed Money and Called It Abundance (October 18, 2026)
- Focus on Giving Love (July 18, 2026)
- Why I Give $20 to Anyone Asking for Help on the Street (June 17, 2026)
- When the World Feels Hopeless, Give Value to People (June 15, 2026)
- How Can I Make Somebody Else's Life Better (January 4, 2026)
- Learning to Love Wider Than My Family (November 24, 2025)
- Giving to People in Need: Why I Give $20 and Serve First (November 16, 2025)
- I Was Surviving, Not Serving (October 30, 2025)
A Family Ripped My $20 in Half. I Still Give, and Here's Why It Feels So Good.
From my live stream on October 17, 2026.
I gave one family $60 and watched a mother rip a $20 bill in half while her little girl cried on the street corner. I told that story on my live stream while I was talking about how much I give away, because it is the strangest thing that has happened to me in all my years of handing out money.
I have given tens of thousands of dollars to homeless people over the last decade. I do not overthink it. I just throw out 20s. Every time I see someone asking for help, I give them $20.
The family that stormed my car
One day a kid came over to my car, and I gave him $20. He ran off and told the rest of his family, and four or five of them all stormed my car at once. I handed one bill to one guy, and he tore off in one direction. Then I tried to give a bill to a little girl, but her mom snatched it, and in the fight over it they ripped the $20 bill in half.
I drove off thinking, this is crazy. The little girl was crying on the corner after her mom ripped the $20 bill in half and was yelling at her, and I was thinking, I have got to get out of here. I had just given $60 away, and the result was that people ended up miserable, fighting with each other and tearing money in half. It is almost funny looking back, and it is also one of the clearest lessons I have had that giving does not always land the way I picture it. It did not stop me. I still give $20 every time.
Why giving feels so good to everyone watching
Later on the same stream, a viewer named Max Resist sent me another $5 tip directly on my website, and it showed up on screen. That moment showed me one of the coolest things about generosity. When you give to someone else, you feel good. They feel good. And the people watching it feel good.
I imagine some of you who saw Max tip me $5 felt good just seeing it. I felt awesome getting that $5. He felt awesome giving it. And many of the people watching felt good too. There have been studies showing that even witnessing an act of kindness gives people good feelings. So when someone gives me money while I am carrying ninety-some thousand dollars of credit card debt and I have gone all in on being a YouTuber, because I do not see anything better I can do for humanity, you seeing that generosity feels good for you, it feels good for me, and it feels good for the person giving. That is winning, winning, winning.
The real value of being an all-time supporter, to me, is that feeling. The people who can support get to show off a little, and the more people criticize, the more the people who love supporting enjoy showing it. If you want to be part of that loop, you can send me a tip directly on my website, and it pops up live on my stream.
What about the people who hate it?
Not everybody feels good. Some people see it and say, stop giving this guy money, I hate it. I love how that feels, too. If the haters in the chat bother you, you can give money to cause them all pain. It is like casting Crucio in Harry Potter, and the haters go, ah, somebody gave him more money. It is delicious. I have written before about turning haters into free marketing, and this is the same idea in miniature.
What I find interesting is that some of the same people make the most positive and the most negative comments at the same time, with their emotions going up and down and back and forth. Some of the most toxic people also seem to love watching the most. You would never catch me in somebody else's stream saying, forget this guy, you are going to be homeless. I have better things to do. But it makes sense that some of the biggest fans are also some of the biggest critics, the same way the people in our own families are often the ones we love the most and who frustrate us the most. And as I explored in People Love Creators Until They Get Paid, a creator receiving money is exactly what sets some people off.
I keep giving anyway, on the street and on my stream, because every time it works the way it is supposed to, three people walk away feeling better than they did a minute before.
I Gave $20 to Homeless People With Borrowed Money and Called It Abundance
From my live stream on October 18, 2026.
I borrow money and then I hand $20 of it to a homeless guy on the corner. I said that on my live stream while explaining that I had borrowed $90,000 to rebuild my YouTube channels from scratch, and I could feel some viewers decide I had lost my mind. Here is what I am doing with money I do not have, and why I call it the most financially successful thing about me.
Even in the situation I am in, I am helping people who are less fortunate than I am. I give $20 to every homeless person I run into, and the rule itself is covered elsewhere on this page. What is new is the position I am giving from. I am also supporting my friend Lindsay, my massage therapist: I charge my credit cards at zero percent to pay her, so she has money she can use now, and I intend to repay it later. I keep helping people out from a position of real debt.
A story I half remember about Bill Gates and a newspaper
There is a story I half remember from somebody's book. I cannot remember whose, and I botched the telling on the stream, but a man who eventually became very rich, let us say Bill Gates, is walking through an airport and buys a newspaper from a vendor. The point, as I took it, is that anybody who is rich can afford to give to others, and that is not special. It is not even virtuous, because other people have already given so much to you. What is special is giving to others when you barely have anything yourself.
That is what is special about me right now. I pull up in my car, somebody is standing there with a sign, and they are extremely grateful for $20. I have made a lot of homeless people's days this year. If you were in my financial situation, would you go give a homeless person $20?
"You are spending money you don't have"
Some of you disagree with this, and the objection is always the same: you are spending money you do not have. My answer is that I am helping someone who needs it right now. Yes, I am borrowing to do it. So is our whole country: the military is funded on money the country does not have, there are obligations the country cannot keep paying, and something like a trillion dollars is going out in interest. Who is making all that money on interest? What I have found is that the generosity I give to others is generally returned to me. I have made millions online and still been in debt, so this is not a theory I came up with last week.
What I actually call financial success
Your life will be rich when you are healthy and when you are generous. Sitting in a house with a pile of money while you are unhealthy, not generous, and afraid of losing the money is what I call poverty. There is nothing in that I want. I am healthy, happy and generous, I give and support others, and that is abundance. My life with my debt is more abundant than the lives of many people with a much higher net worth than me.
For a lot of them, their days go to the doctor and to being miserly with their money. Then they die, the family fights over the estate, and brothers and sisters never speak again. People look at that and call it financially successful; in my mind it is just sad. Other people gave them all that money, and all they did with it was buy things for themselves, use money to control people, and sacrifice their health to make money they did not need, to buy things they did not need, to impress people who did not care about them. They sit in the house and drink, do drugs, take their medication, feel miserable, and die. What was the point? You worked the job so hard, you obsessed over your net worth, you died, and your family fought over it and pissed it away. That is what a lot of people call financial success.
I am much more financially successful than that, because I enjoy the money I have. I use the tools I have. I feel abundant and I help others from the position I am in. I trust other people. I have nothing for anyone to fight over. I am healthy, I enjoy my life today with what I have, and I am grateful for it. To be fair, there are real examples: people who earned money, give generously, live well, and are healthy and happy. In my experience they are the minority, and yes, that is exactly where I am aiming.
Why a few million dollars is enough
I would love to have a few million dollars in net worth and basically the exact same life I have today. Nobody needs more than a few million, say five million. Anything past that generally comes from a place of scarcity, where you never have enough, so you always have to get more, and you end up worshipping money. Because you worship it, you do not actually appreciate it or treasure what you have. I help people by showing them a different reality, the one I described in You're Richer Than You Think, and I know it has produced some cognitive dissonance for people watching me say it while I am in debt.
The gratitude inventory
Later in the stream someone asked whether I needed to go deeper into manifesting and abundance principles. What I am definitely going deeper into is a consistent gratitude practice, because it is so easy not to be grateful when I have so much. I was streaming from about $10,000 of studio equipment: a $2,000 PC, a camera and lens around $2,000, roughly $500 in lighting, $600 to $700 worth of monitors, $800 in audio, plus gaming systems I can stream on. I have so much already.
And I have my health. So many people are willing to trade their health for money, which is a horrible trade, because once you have the money and have lost the health, you see that the health was priceless and the money did not mean that much. Health, to me, is the number one thing to have in life. If you are not healthy, everything else is more difficult; if you are healthy, you can enjoy life on a whole other level, which is why how I stay well has its own page.
So what I am focused on is more gratitude, more gratitude, more gratitude. The more grateful I am, the less I worry about the future, because if I am grateful for what I have now, I will be grateful for what I have later, whether I end up having made good money or I end up in somebody's guest room. People generally love to help someone with a positive, grateful attitude. I have so many opportunities, I love where I live, and I can live somewhere else if I need to.
If what I share here has been worth something to you, you can leave a tip on my tip wall at jerrybanfield.com/tip/, and I am grateful for every one.
Focus on Giving Love
From my video published July 18, 2026.
The Battle in My Head
I'm waging a battle in my head. All day, every day, it's constant. It's the battle of: will I choose love and kindness and joy? Will I choose hope and faith? Will I trust people, or will I believe the opposite? It's tricky, because in life we do need to be reasonable, look out for ourselves, and not put ourselves in bad situations. But it seems like so much of the time we have the chance to choose love, to choose trust, to choose acceptance — or we're tricked into choosing fear, tricked into choosing separation.
I'm putting this into practice in my new relationship, where every opportunity, every communication, every part of the day is a chance to choose to love the person, to trust her, to believe her, to have faith, to be patient, to wait — or to do the opposite. And this is true with every relationship we have with everybody. These are the same dynamics. To me, it goes to every big area of our lives, where we have a choice between love and hope and faith and joy, or a choice to get into fear, resentment, and disbelief. Now, there's certainly a place where these make sense in life. But a lot of times what we're doing is putting them out all the time. Yes, occasionally it makes sense — okay, that was a little scary, or I'm not feeling right here, I need to relocate, I need to reposition. I'm not saying having any kind of feeling is right or wrong. But to me, the ongoing war is to choose love, or to choose the opposite — however you want to phrase the opposite. The ongoing task in my life is to choose love, to choose to be there for other people. And it's a constant thing.
What You Put Out Comes Back
What I've noticed is that whenever I start to feel a little bad, it's like I'm unconsciously making the choice I don't want to make. And what feels good is to just constantly, almost like a chant, put out love. For example, if there's someone you're waiting for a message from — I believe we're all connected, and when I put out love and joy towards other people, they feel it. Now, everybody's not necessarily going to immediately respond to that or change everything they're doing because of it. But what I've noticed is that the more I love other people — whether I express it to them or not, but especially when I express it — the more other people love me back. And the more I don't trust other people, the more I'm afraid of other people, the more I judge other people, the more I'm judged back.
The beauty is that every second is a choice. Lots of times we get tricked into thinking that based on the past, we have to make a certain decision today. But the way I see it, we don't. The past should invite us to remember the lesson: that choosing love today is the best choice we can make.
I've just gotten really excited about a new relationship with a woman I met very recently. And almost everyone has basically encouraged me to be fearful and skeptical. "I hope that works out for you." "Slow down." "It's not a good idea." "Don't" — basically, to not love with my whole heart. And what I say is that to me, the scarier proposition is to live life not loving with my whole heart. The most beautiful thing I can imagine is to really love with my whole heart, and if I get hurt, to trust that I can handle it. That's true in any situation: to just choose love constantly, all the time, and to trust that if something doesn't work out, I can handle it. To trust that I'll get help. I'll ask for help. I will reach out. I will share. I'll express. I'll feel. I'll listen to music. I'll go to bed. I'll relax. No matter what situations I come across, my choice to love and to trust and to open my heart is a choice that will bring me the most joy, and it will bring other people the most joy. My choice to love will be felt by others.
Sometimes it may not be perfectly linear. You may choose to love and forgive one person, and that doesn't mean that person will express it back to you directly. But it may bring another person to you who will treat you with that love and respect. This, to me, works with everything and everybody in your life. And the key point of power is to find who is easiest to practice with. Who's the easiest person to put out love and good vibes towards today? Then just do as much of that with them as possible, and then spread it out to everybody else as much as possible. And then have forgiveness for yourself and for others when that doesn't happen, because sometimes I'm not at my best — just like we all aren't. Sometimes my first thought is not love and joy and connection. And sometimes there are areas of life that are pretty challenging, where it can be hard to find something loving, hard to find something positive. In that case, often the best thing to do is reposition. And sometimes maybe some criticism is warranted in certain situations — then provide it and move on. Sometimes the people I care about the most need to tell me things that in the short term I don't want to hear, but in the long term I'm often very grateful for.
Keeping an Open Heart Like a Child
So I keep setting the intention today that I want to love other people as much as possible. I want to share this message. I want to keep an open heart, because a lot of us, when we're kids, have really open hearts. Like this little girl I ran across today walking around the park — she was there with her dad, and she was just like, "Hey, how are you?" That warm, open-hearted enthusiasm. How many of us as adults, if we see some random adult we don't know, are going to look at them and say, "Hey, how are you?" with genuine enthusiasm? That's what's so beautiful: we have the choice to continue doing that as adults. Lots of times as kids, for one reason or another, we were encouraged to avoid doing that. We got hurt. We closed up. We gave up on it. But the beauty is that, especially as adults, we have the chance to open back up to love anytime.
Ideally, yes, there are certain situations where you might want to close off, where maybe you do want to be a little defensive. But I would think those are often the minority of times. And ideally, if I see I'm in a situation where maybe I should be a little more guarded, the ideal scenario is to try not to be in that situation as much — to reposition. If I feel that with a certain person I have to be more guarded, that I can't really love wholeheartedly, then either I need to change my attitude and pray for forgiveness, or maybe I just need to find somebody else to hang out with. And finding somebody else to hang out with will naturally make it easy. I find that when I'm around the right people, it's very natural and easy and effortless to love. Around some people, it takes a massive amount of effort. So in an ideal scenario, I try to surround myself with the people who can give me the most love and to whom I can give the most love back, because that makes the world better.
Loving Everyone, the Creator, and Even AI
To me, some of the things I see online are just crazy. I'm like, why can't we love each other enough to not do that? And yet it starts with me. If we look at how life is often a chain reaction, one of the most miraculous things we can do is just choose to love each other. And then beyond that, to look at who created all of this — whatever you want to call it — and ask: can we love the creator of everything, whatever that looks like in form or in your mind? The more I can love other people, the more it makes sense to love the creator. If I can love a specific person in my life — which is often easy when you're in the euphoria of a new relationship — well, can't I love everyone else, and the creator of all this? Can't I love everyone and everything, the trees, the animals? Can't I be grateful for this entire experience and just consistently put out love with my heart?
I can even love AI. I created a game with AI — it's a free-to-play game. I love the AI tools I use. I'm so grateful, because AI tools are just miraculous: I can think of a video game and create it. I made myself the main character in the game and set everything up how I wanted it. And I love the AI. I'm like, thank you, AI, for helping create this. What a fantastic collaborator. It seems like almost everything that challenges us in the world could come back down to, at some level, a lack of love.
Now, I know it can seem naive to think that you can just go around loving everywhere and not get hurt. Absolutely, I get hurt, and I get disappointed, and my love is not returned sometimes. But I've noticed the majority of that starts with me. If I'm really loving, I'm going to naturally be attracted to similar situations. And when I'm in fear and scarcity, I often will be attracted to those situations. Sometimes that creates the desire to change — like, oh, maybe I shouldn't go to this community anymore when I feel bad after going there. Or maybe I should try going somewhere new, and maybe I'll feel good going there. It's such a beautiful thing in life to design my whole life around love. Where can I go? What kind of work can I do that I love?
None of Your Love Is Wasted
That's why I do this. I love doing this work. I love creating videos. I love helping others. I love sharing what I've learned. Because I love doing it, I keep doing it. And because I love doing it, others love that I do it, and I often get a lot of positive feedback. Then I accept that part of the price of really loving wholeheartedly is that sometimes I'm not going to receive that love back. And that's okay, because sometimes people love me — especially people who watch my videos — and I'm not able to give specific love back to each person. That's why I set it up so that if you want that one-on-one time with me, you can schedule a private one-on-one call with me — that's what supports how I do my work. I accept that's not going to work for everybody, and that's okay. I give all the love I have to give, and then I accept that the love I get in return is a function of the love I give. So the more love I can give, the better.
Some people say, "Well, doesn't that make it easy for everybody to just use you?" I find no, because the more I love and respect myself, the more I will instinctively avoid situations that are not loving and not caring. I'll instinctively avoid or push away people who aren't loving and caring. That's just kind of like the law of attraction. And I'm really grateful to have this message to share with you — I share more messages like this one in my Life playlist. The message is that none of your love is wasted. In the short term, it sometimes might look like you loved and gave all this and didn't get anything back. But sometimes it's like putting in an order at a restaurant: you gave out the order, and it just takes time for it to come back. All that love and joy you give out will come back to you in some form. To me, my exercise is to focus on what I have to give, give as much love as I can, and then be open to receive — to pay attention and be flexible to receive the love when it comes back.
If you want more, I'm doing these as gaming vlogs on my Jerry Banfield Games channel on YouTube, and I have the written versions too. You can play my game for free at jerrybanfield.net.
Why I Give $20 to Anyone Asking for Help on the Street
From my video published June 17, 2026.
Every time I see somebody on the street asking for money, I give them $20. If someone is struggling badly enough to be holding up a sign that says "hungry," and I've got several hundred dollars in my wallet, the thing that feels right to do is help them. I love seeing the joy on someone's face when I hand them $20. Giving $20 is no big deal to me. When I go to a restaurant and the bill is around $40, I'll tip $20. The other day the bill was about $55 and I gave the waitress $80. She asked, "Why are you guys so nice?" And I said, it's nice to be nice to people.
There's a story I read one time about someone, I think it was Bill Gates, before he became a billionaire. He didn't have enough money for a newspaper, and the guy at the stand just gave him one for free. Later, after Gates was wealthy, he came back and wanted to give the man money, and the guy said, "I don't need your money. I barely have enough to live on, but I'm happy to give you something for free if you need it." Being rich and then being able to be generous is no virtue. To me, real generosity is this: if you can help somebody else out, will you do it? Most of us are in a position to help somebody else.
Why It's Harder Online
It is tricky online, because there are tons of people who will message me for money. For example, I gave one guy from the Philippines $20 randomly on PayPal. He just asked me on PayPal, so I sent it. Then everybody he knows, maybe not everybody, but he tells all his friends and family, and suddenly they're all hitting me up for $20 too. The issue with online is scale. There are around 7 billion people on earth, and I can't even give everybody on earth one cent, because that would totally drain me. So yes, it's challenging online, because there are so many people and you can reach so many of them.
But in person, how many people on the street am I going to run into in a day? Usually zero. I do have a friend who's homeless. I'll pull over if I see him walking and give him $20.
The Day All I Had Was Hundreds
I didn't have any twenties the other day, and that comes down to opportunity cost. If you keep a wallet full of $1 and $5 bills, your whole wallet ends up holding maybe $100 total in all that space. I like to not carry any small bills, no ones, fives, or tens, because of the opportunity cost. That same space could hold twenties, fifties, and hundreds. (And I'm saying this out in the open here, I don't have my wallet on me, y'all.)
So the other day, all I had was hundreds, because I'd already spent or given away all my twenties. I saw my homeless friend, and I had my two kids and my niece in the car. I said, "Oh, there's my friend, but all I have is hundreds." And they pushed my generosity limit a little. They said, "Give him 100." I said, "Give him 100? Really, y'all?" And they said, "Yeah, give him 100." So I gave my daughter a $100 bill to hand to my friend. When he got it, his response was, "I've never seen one of these before." I was just like, wow. There's almost never a day where I don't see one of those. All I see is $100 bills, and that's because other people give them to me. The only reason any of us have money is because somebody else gave it to us, unless you're the federal government printing it yourself. Somebody else gave you the money you have.
You Have Enough When You Can Give
So yes, we don't want to just give all our money away. I don't want to give one cent to a billion people and end up with nothing. That's true. At the same time, life doesn't usually put too many people in our path. There's a lot of joy I get when I give someone $20 and they're really happy. I don't get that joy from letting it sit in my wallet. And it seems the more I give, the more I get back. I'll give $20 to a person I see on the street, and then someone comes in and gives $20 on a super chat, and someone else comes in and gives $100 while I'm live, and then someone pays $350 for a call.
I'm big on the idea that there's enough to go around. Some people say, "You can never have enough money." In my experience, you have enough money when you can give to people who ask you for help. When you see someone who needs help, whether they've got a sign that says "hungry" or they've asked you directly, you've got enough money the moment you can give something.
I think it's crazy, because I live in St. Pete, Florida, and there's a lot of money here. There are million-dollar houses getting built next door to me. One day there was a guy sitting outside by the store, and I walked by but didn't have any money, because I'd walked to an AA meeting and either forgotten my cash or already given someone else my $20. So I walked all the way back home, got $20, got in my car, drove over, and he was still there. I gave him the $20 and he was so happy. I asked, "What do most people give you?" He said, "Most people don't give anything, and if they do, they give some change or a dollar." These are people driving around in new Teslas, going to work out in $100 workout clothes, paying to put their kids in private schools in my neighborhood. I don't live in the fanciest neighborhood around, but the houses here are probably several hundred thousand dollars on average, and the newer ones are getting built for over a million. I live in an area where there are a lot of people with a lot of money.
So I think, what are y'all doing? Somebody is desperate, and all you have is some pocket change. All you have is a dollar, all you have is five dollars. But you'll go spend all kinds of dumb money on a new car or a new house. You'll go to the liquor store and dump your money there. You'll spend money on absolutely insane stuff, buy all kinds of crap, but you don't have a dollar. You don't have $20 for somebody so desperate that they're sitting there with a sign that says "hungry."
"They Should Just Get a Job"
Now, yes, I hear the argument. Everybody says, "They're just going to go buy crack or alcohol, you can't support that, they should get a job." Well, have you ever been that desperate before? Is it just that easy? Is it just that easy for you to get a job if you got kicked out? I've been an alcoholic before, and the only reason I wasn't on the streets is because I had parents who took care of me, and I wasn't quite sick enough to be unable to stay mostly sober while I lived at home with them. Most of us are just one family member, one friend, or a few people away from being on the street. So saying someone should just get a job, that's something you say when you haven't had that experience yourself and don't see how easy it is to wind up on the street. Some of us are differently abled in this life, and it's not as easy for everyone to keep a job.
I can tell you, I haven't had a job in a decade, and I'd rather live on the street than work some job I hate. It's really nice now. I used to be the kind of person who would fight with somebody rather than give them a dollar. And what I can tell you today is that that's an unhappy way to live your life. It's an unhappy way to live when you don't have a dollar or $20 to help somebody else who's desperate, but you've got $100 to buy yourself a new pair of shoes, $1,000 to take a vacation, $10,000 or $50,000 to buy yourself a new car.
I hated myself and I hated the way I lived, the feeling and the scarcity mindset I had back then. I love how I feel now, when I've always got something to give somebody else. If you want to hear more about how I got from that old way of living to this one, I've shared a lot of it on my Life playlist.
When the World Feels Hopeless, Give Value to People
From my video published June 15, 2026.
When the world feels hopeless, the secret is to give value to people. I've had a lot of big changes this past year — deleting my YouTube channels, getting divorced, moving into my own place — and there were days I felt really down. The easiest thing that pulled me out instantly was asking: how can I help someone else?
Six chances a day to give
It's easy to look around and think it's all pretty pointless — dating is hard, making money with integrity is hard, health is hard. But what helps me is focusing on how I can give to someone else as easily as possible. Getting back on YouTube is a big part of that: I post a video on each of my six channels every day, and that's six opportunities to help someone. My crypto videos help people see clearly in a messy space; my gaming streams help people who are lonely; my dating and YouTube videos share what I'm learning. When I focus on how much I'm giving, I simply don't have time to feel hopeless.
Giving makes space to receive
When I'm hopeless, it's usually because I don't see how I'll get what I want. But when I focus on what I'm offering, I notice people show up to make sure I'm taken care of. There's endless content online, but what people really need is to talk to someone, bounce ideas off someone, and be listened to — so I set myself up to give that, and people book calls. By focusing on giving, I make space to receive, and I get to keep working and filming from home while lifting others up. If I'd only focused on my finances and my dating, it would have looked uncertain; focusing on sharing what I've learned lifts me up in the process.
It's all an adventure
In some ways it feels like I'm constantly fighting the evil in the world, but I remind myself we're part of a bigger story — all of life is a stage, and we're performing on some level. It gets hopeless when you forget this is a journey meant to be enjoyed. Some of the roughest times in my life I now look back on with nostalgia: they were hard, but they were character-building, an adventure. Lately life has been a little more difficult than usual, but the adventure has been higher than usual too, and I've loved it. So here's the programming for the next time you feel hopeless: help somebody else. And if you don't know how, ask someone for help — giving another person the chance to lift you up is its own gift. If you'd like to talk, watch my life playlist here.
How Can I Make Somebody Else's Life Better
Originally published January 4, 2026.
This is my journal entry from January 4, 2026 — my real, unedited day, shared just as it happened.
The only thing I had on the whole calendar today was my AA meeting. I got up and my idea I had last night in bed, I guess really this morning, was that I should do a marketing letter. Get a letter inside an envelope, a letter that could really help someone, share all of my experience and ask for help. I think on the outside of the letter I would write 'help.' And on the inside, it would offer help in areas that I've had success in, like how I lost weight and kept it off, what I did to get sober, how I went through a divorce smoothly, my thoughts on money, et cetera. I'd share my experience, strength, and hope for someone. And then at the end of the letter, I'd ask for help. And I'd be like, hey, I'd love your help monetizing these things. I know there's plenty of money out there. I'm just not sure what details we need. Do I need a mastermind group where we meet up at my house? Or should I do one-on-one coaching, help you write books, consult with marketing, etc. And also be like, hey, this is who I'm looking to date, these are the things I need help with. And I think the best thing we could do for the world is make an attempt to try and help each other as best we can.
So I'm really excited about that letter idea, especially because it should only cost me like 20, 25 cents to put one of those little letter packets together, like five, ten pages front and back, put it in a six-by-nine envelope and just drop it on people's doors. I just really want to get out there to more people, man. I feel like that's often the difference, getting out there to more people. I want to start thinking, what can I do to help somebody else too? Can I drop something on somebody's doorstep that would change their life? Like my last letter, basically it didn't offer much to somebody. It just was kind of a sales pitch. I want something that really leads by example, offers help, could change somebody's life, get somebody thinking, and be a gateway to work with me. Getting out there to more people and actually helping them is what drives me, and if that resonates with you, you can schedule a private call with me and we'll figure out how to do it in your life.
I got the drone and everything already. And it was a little foggy. My son called first thing in the morning at like 7.30 to ask about the drone. And since it was foggy out and wet, I'm like, why don't we wait a little bit? Well, then my daughter got some plans in the afternoon with a friend. So at around 10, I'm like, let's go to the park, kids. Let's use the drone. Let's use the new monster truck car. I pick the kids up at my ex-wife's house. I've got the drone and the car and everything's charged. We drive down to a park and it's perfect because I have a drone and a car. The kids can take turns. So my son's so excited to drive the car and my daughter's so excited to drive the drone. So I first get my son on the car. He has fun driving it all over. Then I get the drone set up and fly it up in the air myself to make sure I know how to use it. Then I pass the controller over to my daughter.
The drone lasts about 20 minutes in air. And my son figures out, based on the video we watched of the car, that he can actually take his monster truck in the water and it will swim. Like, this is pretty crazy. I was so surprised. But the truck has four-wheel drive and the wheels have treads. So in the water, even if the wheels are not touching the ground, the truck will essentially swim, which is really cool. My son got these other kids to notice him driving the truck in the water. So he had a couple of boys watching him and waiting their turn. Then the drone battery ran out. So I tried to land it, but when I pushed the landing button, it went into this automatic return from the takeoff point. And unfortunately, there were some trees between where we took off and where the drone was flying back to automatically land. I didn't realize it would go into this automatic landing so quick. I thought I had time from when the battery went low to fly it back or just land it where I was. Thus, the drone goes crashing into the tree and breaks off a little branch and falls all the way down onto the grass. Miraculously, none of the blades broke on the drone and the drone itself appears to be uninjured. I swapped batteries out.
I get the drone in the air again, and swap them out in the monster truck also and give my daughter the controls. Now my son gets his turn on the drone, and he does great. The drone says it's for ages 14 plus, but my son flies it around and has a great time with it, and there's no issues at all. Then I'm able to safely land it as the battery runs out. Meanwhile, my daughter's putting on a show for these now three boys that are over there watching her have the monster truck swim in the water like my son did. My daughter even is kind enough to share the remote with some of the boys and let them drive the car. And amazingly, the car does not go off to sea and die where they couldn't retrieve it. So we have a great time, spend a little over an hour out at the park. I bring the kids back home.
They both got money, so my daughter wants to shower and my son wants to take a bath to clean off. Meanwhile, my ex-wife's putting together dressers, because I am taking the dressers that she used the last few years since my mother moved in, so she's had these dressers three years, for the kids' clothes. They were the dressers my late father made for my brother and me when we were kids. Beautiful pine for my brother's dresser and mahogany solid wood dressers that have lasted over 30 years at this point. I am going to take these to my house, and since I need to get a moving truck anyway, I might as well take the furniture and move that to my house as well. My ex-wife ordered some dressers online, and she's working on putting them together. Thus, I figure I can be helpful and take the trash out. I take a bunch of trash and recycling out for my ex-wife.
And then after the kids are cleaned up, they want to play the game of life, which my ex-wife's been having lots of fun playing with them. We play the game of life and have a great time. It's a very close game. I decide not to go to college and just jump into a career, which ironically, I get the vlogger career fitting, right? Then my daughter just barely wins. My son gets second and I come in pretty close third. It literally came down to like who gave who money, but we tried to keep it kind of fair. After playing life, I feel like it's time to wrap up and head back to my place, which is a little bit before 1. It was a really nice morning with the kids and with my ex-wife, especially after my ex-wife and I had a nice talk last night before bed. It was great.
Then I go back to my house. All morning my nose had been running. Last night I had a really good cry before bed, and my nose had just been consistently running, and I'd been sneezing since then. In my experience, I wondered if some of it was the food from the vegan sushi place or if it was just all an emotional release. What I do know is I had a T-shirt, and off and on during the night I was wiping my nose and sneezing.
I get home a little after noon, and I'm thinking, should I eat or should I work out? When am I going to work out? I miss being able to do the yoga class that I wanted to go to. And I realized it's been a few days since I've lifted weights, so let's go to my gym. So I go to my gym and put in a hell of a weightlifting workout. I go all over the gym using all kinds of machines, free weights, all over the place. My preferred workout strategy for many of the exercises was to just do one or two sets and to do a wider variety of exercises so that I engage more muscles and more movements. Not looking to break muscles down all the way, just looking to stay functional. I run into three people I know from AA at the gym. One of them's an attractive woman. She's been through a divorce. I had a nice conversation with her and then moved on. Then a couple of them were other guys from meetings I talked with and enjoyed the conversation with as well.
I ended up spending almost an hour at my gym doing a weightlifting workout, which is about the longest weightlifting workout I've done in a long time. Feels really good to build my muscles and to see that I can still do the same amount of weights on some exercises that I could a decade or more ago. In fact, on some, I've gotten stronger. Like I did the leg machine where you sit down and your legs are spread out and then you crunch them together, I think that's the abductors. I was able to do the maximum weight on that machine, which is 180 pounds. When I first sat down, I tried to do it and I was like, oh, that's too heavy. So I went down to like 120. But then I worked my way up to 180 and I was so proud. I was able to do like five or six reps at 180, which is awesome. That's literally more than I weigh. And I'm glad those muscles have been strengthened by doing all the one-leg balances in yoga, because you have to engage those there.
After I got home a little after 1, I felt great about my workout. And I listened to a book on Audible, which I listened to most of today, although I started it yesterday. It's called True Wealth: Nine Lessons from a Grandfather on Happiness and Abundance by Ken Honda, who's from Japan. And it was a beautiful book. I really enjoyed the lessons in it. One of the things that stuck out to me was to think of, how can I add happiness to somebody else's life? I often am thinking about how can I get what I want, but that often backfires because sometimes the strategies to get what I want don't match what I could do to make someone else happy.
Like I was thinking in the shower tonight, maybe if I go to bars or dance clubs, I can meet women there and get what I want, and maybe even find a woman to be my second wife. But then I'm thinking, would those be places where I could help somebody else have a better time? No, that's ridiculous. When I think, how can I make somebody else's life better, the letters that I sent in the mail before were an example of, I don't think those letters made anyone's life better. But if I could put a letter on somebody's porch that they'd read and it'd make their life better and add happiness to their life, that's what I want to do. And I want to build a business around, can I find a creative way to try and help somebody have a better life? And I'm sure from there, all good things will flow. Building something that genuinely makes someone's life better is what I want most, and if you'd like to build that kind of life too, you can schedule a one-on-one call with me and we'll map it out together.
After having a nice big lunch and listening to True Wealth, I then went to work editing my memoir book, which will cover basically everything before Daily Autobiography, with the working title Automatic Escape. But I think we're going to do a different title than that. I don't know if I'm feeling a title that's Automatic Escape. I spent hours editing the book. Then a friend, who used to be a professional mover, texted me that he was able to come look and assess the move right now if I was available. So I said, yes, please. So he came over to my house, looked at the stuff I've got here, and then went to my ex-wife's house and looked at the stuff there. He thinks a smaller medium truck should be able to easily do it. And he said he should be ready on Thursday, which is great. I'll have a few days to prepare.
I ordered some blackout curtains and a chair, which to me are two of the main things I need to be set up there since I don't have a couch that I'm going to take over. And the blackout curtains, we need to get the bedroom blacked out. I just ordered a couple of blackout panels. I spent some time researching and it seems like the best thing I could do is get these blackout window privacy film coverings that you put water on to stick onto the window. So I ordered enough of those to cover a couple of windows. I'll test that, and if it works good then I'll do the other couple of windows and hopefully be ready before I'm even sleeping there.
After a friend came over to assess the move, initially he said he might be able to do Tuesday, so I immediately just start throwing littler stuff in my car and driving it over to the house. I'd rather put as few things in a moving truck as possible and keep the moving truck just for bigger things I can't put in the car. So I spend a little over two hours running back and forth to my new house. There was a moment where I stood in the house and I just felt the energy of the people that have been in there and all the good times I'm going to have in there. I'm like, thank you. This is so awesome. I'm really grateful for this house. And I'm sure the funds will continue to pour in to support it.
My ex-wife sent me the last of the marriage settlement. Now it's my turn to sign over the car and the house. That money has paid all my bills though, that's been everything I've paid for: rent, security deposit. So 5,400 of that is security deposit and rent for the new place, plus several thousand in rent for the existing place. But that's also everything else. I've spent most of it already. I'm really excited to see what I'm gonna do to make money.
I get to the AA meeting tonight after running to the house a few times, and I tell one of the guys, who moved recently from up north with his girlfriend, my business idea. He thinks it's exciting and he's working on starting his own business as well. I get into the meeting and sit down and the girl next to me gets up immediately as soon as I sit down and moves where she's sitting. So I give her a little shit. I'm like, wow, you didn't want to sit next to me, huh? Something to kind of tease her. And she ends up sitting right in front of me anyway. What's funny is, she has her hair up, and I don't even recognize her. She clearly knows me, and then when she puts her hair down, I remember, and she tells me her name. I'm like, oh, yeah, okay, I've seen you at at least 10 meetings. There's a couple of really hot girls at the meeting tonight, and I make sure to share so I can get them to know me. Whether they like me or not, they'll know.
My name is Jerry Banfield. I got a laugh tonight when I said that one of the things that's important is to have a feeling that you're part of something bigger, which a lot of people are lacking. And then a lot of people call that God, which makes it too esoteric and hard to imagine. Like to me, I said, there's all these cells in my body and I'd like them all to joyfully know that they're a part of Jerry Banfield. And that's how I feel with this body being a part of earth. This body is a cell. This human body is a cell in the body of earth. And we are all part of something huge. And we're all valuable. Like all the cells in my body are valuable, and I count on them to do their roles to keep all the good times rolling.
We had a nice meeting. I laughed and smiled, and I shouted out when they read How It Works tonight. One of the guys was reading it and he left a nice clear pause for me to shout out the part where some of us exclaim that it sounds like too tall an order, I shouted that out loud. And the girl in front of me who moved her seat shook her head. And I'm like, that's fine. It's okay if you want to shake your head. I don't know what she's shaking her head for. Maybe she likes it, maybe she doesn't. What the hell do I know?
After the meeting, I talked with three of the boys. Had a good chat, talking all kinds of shit, laughing, cracking each other up. Felt really good. And I appreciated that I was probably the one laughing the most. And that's a big success, to be finding so much humor in life. I talked to one guy about dating a lot. And I realized, one thing I know that works really well dating is to put out an energy towards women that says, I love you, I appreciate you, you're the greatest. And lately, I haven't been doing that. I've been putting out this 'fuck you' energy. And that's been putting women off for sure. So I'm going to make sure to turn that back on. That's how I got that girl at yoga to get such a crush on me, I put that energy out towards her. The same energy I often was putting out towards my now ex-wife. I put that energy out and it got her attention. So we're going to get some more attention. If you're working on your own dating life and want to talk it through with someone who's been in it, I'd be glad to dig in with you on a private one-on-one call with me.
I was driving home, I drove over to my new house to drop my last load of stuff off. And I was driving home like, do I want to call my mother? I almost called my mother, because I haven't talked to her much in the last week. But I was thinking about Derek Sivers's book that I finished, Hell Yeah or No. It's like, is calling my mother a hell yeah? And it's like, no. It's not a hell yeah at this point. I do miss talking to my mother a little bit. But it's also such a drag talking with her sometimes, especially when she's in a fucking mood and all angry. She easily could reach out to me and be like, hey, you haven't talked much in a week, are you okay, what's going on with you? She expects me to just call her and keep up with her. And yeah, I feel like it's kind of mean in some ways that I haven't seen her for a week. I went over there the last couple of times and I felt worse after. I'm tired of hanging out with people sometimes. Hanging out with the boys felt great tonight. Going to see my ex-wife and the kids felt great. Just too many times I go over to my mother's house and I feel worse. Especially if I'm in a good mood, it's hard to go over there with my good mood. I swear sometimes I just get myself in a bad mood so I can go over to her house.
So I didn't call her. I drove home. And after getting some gas, showered. And it's 11.16 right now. Kids are going back to school tomorrow. So I'm going to wrap up and head to bed. And if anything can motivate me to keep these short, it's realizing that for every minute I dictate, it takes about a minute to edit. And I think I'm probably at least 15 or 20 hours behind on my editing right now. So yeah, if I could just catch up on the editing, that would be great.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
Learning to Love Wider Than My Family
Originally published November 24, 2025.
This is my journal entry from November 24, 2025, part of my daily autobiography Divorce Day — my real, unedited days, published in order.
I wake up still feeling a little drained, but I am profoundly grateful that I slept well. Going to bed around 9:30 p.m. and waking up a little after 7:00 a.m. makes an enormous difference. I feel good in my body again, steadier. I go to say good morning to everyone, making sure I give space and let them tell me when they are ready for me to come over. When I do, I say hi, and I am immediately met with snuggles. I am still completely broken open emotionally, crying on and off, but in a softer way now. I am deeply grateful to have this time with the kids before I leave for Michigan today. This is the last time I will see them for a week, and that fact sits quietly in the background of everything.
I play with my son in his bed. He asks me to tickle his belly, and I stuff his stuffed animals into his pants, telling him it looks like he just pooped a diaper. He laughs uncontrollably, that full-body laughter that makes everything else fade for a moment. My daughter snuggles with me in the new chairs my ex-wife bought for the front of the house, set up in her little reading nook. Before I leave, I hug my ex-wife and tell her I am grateful for the life we built together and for what we are doing going forward. I thank her for how she handled yesterday. She seems better today, more settled, which is a relief. We tell each other we love each other. As I pull away, my son stands just outside the front door, waving and yelling, “Love you, Dad! Bye!” I am crying again as I drive off.
I arrive about five minutes late to tennis and immediately get a phone call and a text asking where I am. I actually appreciate how prompt and attentive these guys are. I show up for doubles with two men I know from the tennis club and another man I have never met. I enjoy the easy conversation and getting to know them. After one of our matches, where the new guy and I win the first set, I ask them for advice. I tell them honestly that I do not know what the hell I am doing with my life right now. I know I have valuable skills, but I do not know how to apply them in a way that makes money or helps people joyfully. I do not even know how I would begin looking for a job. He tells me he has had a long, successful career in finance, and that his family is well connected downtown. He suggests I send him a résumé and gives me his contact information. I am genuinely grateful that I have the courage to be that honest, to ask for help without trying to sell myself or spin some story, just to say plainly that I am lost and open to guidance. If you are in that same place of knowing you have real skills but having no idea how to point them at a life that makes sense, you can schedule a one-on-one call with me and we’ll talk it through.
It also crosses my mind that some of these guys at the tennis club are clearly very successful, and maybe they know things I do not. I end up really enjoying playing doubles with them. At first, I feel conflicted, like I should not be here, like I should have skipped tennis and spent more time snuggling the kids before leaving. But by 10:30 a.m., after winning all three sets, I feel grounded and alive. It becomes clear this was exactly what I needed this morning. All of these guys are twenty to thirty-plus years older than me, and every one of them leaves me feeling steadier.
As we play, I start thinking about love and presence. Is playing and laughing with these men any less important than being with my kids? Can I love them in the same way—not the same kind of love, but love nonetheless? They are here with me, having fun, joking around, talking shit, showing up fully. That matters. And the answer that comes back is yes, this matters too. It is not lesser. This is part of life, and I am genuinely glad it is happening right now. I break a sweat, feel my body wake up, and I really see it today: the social connection in doubles tennis is just as important as the physical movement.
My body feels a little slower after the last two days of burnout, and doubles turns out to be exactly what I needed this morning, especially with this group of guys. Some of them clearly have money and connections, and who knows what kind of help or perspective they might offer. I ask honestly and without expectation. I never assume anything will come of it. I just ask and listen. And here I am, already talking with someone who actually knows what paths might exist from here.
I head home acutely aware that I have one hour to get myself ready to leave for Michigan. Earlier that morning, before my ex-wife and the kids were up, I laid almost everything out on the bed, so now it is just a matter of stuffing it into my backpack. I shower, eat, and get the house set to leave. I make a huge salad to use up lettuce that would otherwise go bad while I am gone, wanting to leave with a full stomach. I pack a plastic container of beans to eat on the road. Simple, practical, done.
From there, I go to see my massage therapist for a massage. I tell her everything that has been going on, and without hesitation her first response is that this Michigan trip is exactly what I need right now, that it should go really well, and that it will likely be a beautiful experience for everyone involved. I feel restored to sanity almost instantly. It is like something unclenches. I realize how much fear I have already let go of, how much growth has happened in just the last twenty-four hours, and I feel profoundly grateful for my friendship with her. Again, the same thought returns: isn’t this love and friendship just as important? Isn’t the love I share with my massage therapist just as valid as the love I share with my kids, with my ex-wife, with anyone else? Don’t I have the capacity to love far more broadly than I usually allow myself to? The love I feel for my kids—shouldn’t that love be something I give outward, without restriction? I leave the massage feeling deeply relaxed, centered, and fully ready for the trip.
At the airport, I carry the container of beans with me and eat the entire thing straight out of the container. No seasoning, no extras, just cooked beans I made a few days ago, dumped into my mouth while I sit there. I throw the container away, chug my entire water bottle, and head through security. For the first time, I do not have to take my shoes off, which feels like a small miracle. I am oddly delighted by it. On the Monday before Thanksgiving, there are only two scanners open at first, and the line starts backing up, but thankfully they have built a dedicated area that actually has room for everyone. They open two more scanners, and things move quickly. All I have to do is slide my driver’s license in for identity verification. I notice how strange it is that I do not even need to show a boarding pass anymore.
I get to the gate and sit down, noticing that I am listed as standby. I assume I will get a seat. I read more of Can You Catch a Cold? which I am almost finished with now. As I look around the airport, something shifts again. I miss my ex-wife. I miss the kids. But I look at all these people sitting around me and think: aren’t all of them someone’s kids too? Aren’t all of them deeply loved by someone, or at least worthy of being loved? Couldn’t I love all of these people the same way I love my own children? It feels like a real revelation. My love has been narrowly focused on my identity as a husband, my work, my kids, my immediate family, and a small circle of friendships. What if love were more generalized, more expansive, reaching outward to all of humanity? Isn’t that what we actually need? If we could all love one another with the same intensity and care we reserve for our closest people, wouldn’t that solve everything? Literally every problem on this planet would dissolve if even a relatively small number of people lived that way. It would spread.
The plane is on time. I get my seat assignment and board, only to find a couple already settled in, with the guy sitting in the window seat that technically belongs to me. He clearly wants to stay there, and they have the aisle seat open. They offer to move, but I tell them it is fine and that they should stay where they are. They look comfortable, and I genuinely do not care whether I am on the aisle or the window. As long as I am not in the middle, I am good. The middle is survivable too, but aisle or window are the real wins. I take my seat and immediately think, this is probably going to be another cry session, isn’t it?
It feels eerily familiar. Just like a year ago, I have the perfect book at the perfect time. On my trip to Michigan a year earlier, I already knew my marriage was over. I knew it in my bones. I knew I had loved my ex-wife deeply, that we had a good marriage in many ways, but I also knew this was not the future I wanted. I knew I needed a divorce. I knew I wanted to find another woman to have children with, because my ex-wife did not want more kids, and I did. On that July 2024 trip to Michigan, alone, I finally admitted something to myself that I had been afraid to say out loud: I wanted another woman, someone different from my ex-wife, someone who truly wanted to have kids and build a family with me. For the first time, I pushed through the shame, the guilt, the remorse, the feeling that wanting that made me wrong or selfish. I let myself feel the desire honestly. And once I did, I realized I could have a genuinely good life following that path. Getting divorced, finding another partner, having more kids could be a happy, valid, meaningful life. In many ways, it could be just as right and beautiful as staying married. It might even be better.
But when I asked people for advice back then, everyone told me to make my marriage work. Everyone told me to focus on fixing things with my ex-wife. When I got home, I told her I wanted to take a romantic trip together. We went to a beachfront resort, and for a day, it felt wonderful. It felt like we had our old relationship back. But as soon as we returned home, everything snapped back into place. Business as usual. I was unhappy again. I hoped that more romance and sex might reignite something, that it could be the spark that brought us back together. Over the past year, it became painfully clear that it was not that simple. There were deeper issues. More sex was never going to resolve my ex-wife’s refusal to have more kids or my desire to have them. If you keep reaching for a surface fix on something that is actually much deeper, you can book a private call with me and we’ll look honestly at what is really going on.
On that trip last year, I listened to The Light Between Us and Signs by Laura Lynne Jackson, and they were exactly what I needed at that moment. I remember sobbing uncontrollably on the plane, thinking how absurdly perfect it was to have those books in my ears at that exact time. Today feels the same. Now I am listening to Broken Open, and once again, it could not be more perfectly timed. I am crying on the plane all over again. As I listen to stories of people who have been through far more than I have, I am not comparing or minimizing my own pain. The point is not comparison. The message of the book is that these kinds of experiences crack you open. They strip away resistance, soften the ego, dismantle old patterns, and allow you to emerge as something truer and more expansive.
That is exactly how I feel. I feel myself opening into a fuller, more loving version of who I am, rather than clinging to a narrow identity built around being a husband, a father, or an online persona. I am not just those roles. I am a human being capable of loving broadly, openly, without conditions. I feel more connected to my soul self, less trapped by old definitions of who I am supposed to be. I feel like someone with an open heart and an open mind, and for the first time in a while, that feels like enough.
As the plane hums along, I remember thinking earlier this year that I needed to have more compassion for other people. Right now, that compassion feels like it is overflowing. I used to be deeply judgmental about divorce. My ex-wife’s sister got divorced years ago, and I judged her harshly for it, sometimes out loud to my ex-wife, often just in my own head. That judgment had to have shaped how I treated my ex-wife and how she felt around me. It carried this unspoken message that divorce meant failure, that her sister had ruined her life, failed her husband, failed her marriage, and that it was mostly her fault. Sitting here now, that way of thinking feels completely insane. If anything, that divorce may have been the very thing that broke her open, expanded her view of life, and freed her from shallow expectations she did not even realize she was living inside of. I can see now how these experiences are not punishments but initiations.
What is also becoming clear is how little we actually understand about how we arrive at these moments. I cannot point to a single, specific thing I did that landed me in a divorce. I did not do this alone. Yesterday, I was drowning in guilt over my contributions to the breakdown of our marriage, and yes, I did my part. But my ex-wife did her part too. We each brought our half. If I had been married to a different woman, I would have brought a different half. The dynamic would have been entirely different, and yet people from wildly different circumstances end up in the same place all the time. In Broken Open, I hear story after story of marriages that looked perfect from the outside—beautiful homes, healthy kids, successful careers, everything seemingly dialed in—while inside, the people involved were stressed, disconnected, and quietly unraveling. One woman in the book talks about being married to a doctor, having young kids, and living what looked like an ideal life, only to end up having an affair because she was starving for passion. These stories are not about moral failure. They are about being human.
The book talks about how, to some degree, we are all just bozos on the bus. None of us really knows what we are doing. We live in a mysterious universe and walk around pretending we understand it, telling ourselves, I know, I know, I know. The truth is, I do not know shit. Out of everything there is to know, what I know is so close to nothing that it is almost indistinguishable from nothing. If the last week has taught me anything, it is how effortlessly the universe can drop an incredible person into my life. The woman I met is a perfect example of that.
She was kind enough to send me a message last night, and it is worth recounting exactly how that unfolded, because it mattered more than I realized at the time. On Saturday—the day I started to spiral—I had messaged her first. I thanked her for our time together the day before and offered to take her to the beach or play pickleball whenever she was free. She wrote back warmly, saying it had been her pleasure and that she didn’t take my trusting her with my story lightly. I replied that our conversation had been a lot of fun and asked when we could meet up again. Then twenty-eight hours passed with no response, and that silence is where my mind started to unravel. Here we go again, I thought. Another great woman, another moment of hope, and then nothing. I replayed our in-person conversation, how open she seemed, how much it felt like she wanted to see me again.
When she finally responded, her message was clear and kind. She said she had enjoyed our conversation too, but in full transparency she had met someone a few weeks earlier and was enjoying getting to know him—nothing exclusive yet, though it seemed to be heading that way—and that maybe she would see me at a future event. I replied honestly, telling her that I appreciated the energy of her message, that our time talking by the water had been a highlight of my week and left me with a lot to think about, and that I was happy imagining seeing her again at another event.
Receiving her message with the energy she sent it in felt good. It was honest, respectful, and clean. And as I sit here now, I can see the deeper truth: I am not ready for her in my life. If I were truly ready, maybe she would have felt ready to prioritize me. But I am still spending hours every day with my ex and my kids. I clearly do not have space right now to wake up next to a woman every morning or to build something new in the way that would require. Seeing that does not hurt the way it might have before. It feels clarifying. It feels like another piece of the larger picture coming into focus. If you are trying to make sense of your own timing and readiness after a big relationship ended, you can set up a call with me and we’ll work through where you actually are.
Talking with my massage therapist helps me see this at a much deeper level. She talks about how much she appreciates waking up next to her boyfriend every day, how that is the best part of her day. Hearing that makes everything click. If I had a woman like her in my life, someone I genuinely wanted to be with, of course I would want to wake up with her every morning. I would want those mornings together. And that would mean giving something up. That would mean I would no longer be taking the kids to school. That alone is about an hour a day, five hours a week. Add in weekend mornings, bedtime routines, evenings together, and suddenly I am giving up ten or more hours a week with the kids. That is the real tradeoff. And then there is the question I cannot ignore: would a woman like that be okay with me spending hours every day at my ex’s house just to be with my kids? If I put myself in her position—single, never married, no kids—I know the honest answer. That would not feel good. It would not feel like she was a real priority. It would not feel like she was number one.
Between that conversation with my massage therapist and her message, it becomes obvious that this is actually a gift. I need more time. Right now, this is a transition period. It has only been a couple of months since everything shifted, and I am still finding my footing. I want to see the kids as much as I can during this phase, partly to minimize the disruption for them, and partly because I still need that closeness myself. The reality is that I am not seeing them much less than I was before, and in some ways, I am more present with them now. When I am with them, I am really with them. But I also know the broader truth: being a divorced dad often means seeing your kids significantly less. That is just how it goes. And that has to be okay. If I want another woman and possibly another family someday, they will become my priority, just as my current family once was.
Ideally, I would meet another woman before having to cut that time with the kids, but life does not always line up neatly. Other changes could reduce that time too—getting a job, moving somewhere else, shifts I cannot predict yet. Today, though, I feel grateful. I genuinely appreciate her honesty and the clarity her message gave me. I can see now that I need time to make this transition internally. And when I am truly ready for a woman, when one comes along, she will be ready for me too.
I think about how many people have told me they met someone and just knew, that there was an unmistakable energy there. Sometimes I get frustrated when I am around people and do not feel that spark, wondering why it is not happening yet. But when that person does come, she is going to require a lot of my time. And while that intensity can feel euphoric, it also comes with real sacrifices. When I really sit with the idea that being in a relationship means missing time with my kids, I feel surprisingly okay with taking my time to date. I am okay with just talking to people, getting to know them, having conversations, and not forcing anything. I am starting to see that it is my responsibility to love myself.
A lot of the emotional weight I have been carrying around dating comes from an unconscious belief that if I meet a woman I am madly in love with, then this divorce makes sense and is justified. And if I do not, then it must have been wrong. Seeing that belief clearly now, I can let it go. No matter what happens next, the divorce is happening. That part is already in motion. Whether I like it or not no longer matters. What matters now is accepting reality as it is and learning how to live well inside it.
I could fight this and create more problems, but I am not doing that anymore. The divorce is happening. That is the reality. Whether it was right or wrong no longer matters, because it is already in motion. What does matter is that I learn how to love myself where I am, appreciate my life as it is, and show up with genuine care for other people. If I do that, I am completely confident that there will be a woman I go absolutely crazy for who goes crazy for me too, just like my ex-wife and I once did. If anything, the last few weeks have shown me how fast that kind of connection can appear. Meeting her and feeling that rush—the ease, the intimacy, the hand-holding, the depth of conversation almost immediately—was proof. That kind of euphoria can happen quickly. Shockingly quickly. And when I really sit with that truth, I also see the other side of it clearly: I am not ready to give up ten or more hours a week with my kids and with my ex-wife right now. I am just not.
I did send the email yesterday morning saying I was not going to rent that house, and that already feels like a relief. Today, I feel even more clarity around my living situation. I want to reduce it to the absolute minimum. I start thinking about whether I could sleep at my mom’s house, if she is okay with it. She has an extra bed. I could be out most of the day, come back in the evening, spend an hour or two together, and then go to sleep. Financially, that feels like the smartest move I could possibly make right now. This transition period has been helpful, but taking on a new lease that does not feel perfect makes no sense. Paying that kind of rent for a four-bedroom, three-bath house would be insane. Even renting a modest apartment would eat a significant portion of my income, even if I landed a solid job. That does not even account for utilities, time, or mental bandwidth. What I really want to do is write books and build a life coaching practice. I am thinking seriously about pursuing a book deal for something similar to I Was Famous on the Internet. I need to acknowledge that building a local writing and coaching career may take time. Keeping my expenses as low as possible buys me that time. If you are trying to design a life around writing, coaching, or work you actually love without the money pressure crushing it, you can book a one-on-one call with me and we’ll map it out.
Talking with my massage therapist reinforces this. She mentions the same thing the woman from the spiritual community brought up a week earlier: there is a Facebook community of conscious-living people who rent rooms to each other, often specifically looking for sober roommates. Some even ask for people in Alcoholics Anonymous who do not use drugs or marijuana. That actually sounds like it could be a really happy living situation for me. One of the clearest lessons coming out of all this is that I should not live alone. I remember saying before that I never wanted to live alone again, and I believe that more strongly now. Living alone has absolutely contributed to my loneliness and emotional instability. I can imagine having a genuinely good life sharing a house with a few other guys, something simple and social, without the weight of managing an entire property. I briefly thought about setting something like that up in the four-bedroom place I looked at, but the landlord made it clear I would not be able to sublet or manage roommates myself. In hindsight, that is probably a blessing. It makes far more sense to rent a room than to be responsible for an entire house.
There is also the possibility that I meet a woman down the road who already has her own place. If that happens, flexibility will matter. Staying at my mom’s house in the meantime could allow me to pay nothing in rent, support her, and not lock myself into anything unnecessary. As long as I am not camped out there all day, it would not feel intrusive. Sleeping there, sharing evenings, and being present without overwhelming the space could actually be really good for both of us. I plan to talk to my mom about this when I get back from Michigan. I am even thinking about whether I can avoid paying another $2,000 in rent and utilities for this month where I am now. I will probably keep the place through December, but $2,000 a month is draining my savings fast, and I am not getting nearly enough value out of having my own place to justify it. When I really look at it honestly, living at my mom’s house would give me almost everything I need right now, without the financial and emotional pressure I have been carrying.
I find myself genuinely curious about where I am going to live next, and what stands out most is that I am approaching it without fear. That alone feels like progress. On the flight to Michigan, I have a few friendly, casual exchanges with the couple sitting next to me. I notice he is watching Bad Boys and she is watching I Know What You Did Last Summer. There is also an attractive woman sitting to my right, and I am aware of her, but I am not in that grasping, searching mode anymore. I do not feel like I need to try to meet anyone. I can just put out calm, loving energy and trust that if there is a real connection to be made, it will happen naturally.
When I get on the Enterprise rental car shuttle and arrive at the Detroit airport, the whole experience feels strangely magical. There is a song playing over the speakers in the bathroom, something about having to die in order to live, and I just stand there thinking, holy shit, this is exactly where I am right now. Walking through the Detroit airport carries this mix of wonder and grief. I feel joy remembering how many times I have been here with my ex-wife and the kids, and at the same time I feel the ache of being here alone, in the middle of a divorce. I feel completely broken open. And yet, the same realization keeps returning: aren’t all these people here enough to love right now? Why did I pour so much of my identity, my worth, and my sense of meaning exclusively into my ex-wife and kids? It feels like I was overdoing that and underdoing my love for the rest of humanity.
On the rental car shuttle, I strike up a conversation with a mom and dad traveling with two boys who are both seven years old, but not twins. They were born about a year and twenty-some days apart, which means for three days every year, they are exactly the same age. One of them just had his birthday, and the next day it will be the other one’s. The older seven-year-old enthusiastically tells me all about playing Luigi’s Mansion 3. Luckily, I have seen my son playing it at an arcade before, so I can actually follow along. The other kid is wearing the exact same shoes my son loves, which makes me smile. I chat with the parents for a bit, asking what they are up to. The dad is wearing a “dad bod” shirt with a beer replacing the “o,” and he gives me strong military vibes. I ask if he was in the military, and he tells me he was, mentioning choppers and deployments. We end up having a genuinely nice conversation. I tell them about my kids, and we keep awkwardly saying goodbye over and over because we run into each other repeatedly inside the rental car office.
Eventually, I get my rental car, a 2026 Jeep SUV, and it feels fun and new in a simple way. As I drive, I realize this would be a good moment for some quiet, or maybe a call with the kids. My ex-wife calls me, and I am able to talk with her and the kids right before I arrive at my sister’s house. They have had a nice day, and I feel so grateful hearing that. My ex-wife is with her parents and the kids, and as I picture it, I realize this trip is just as good—maybe even better—than if they had gone with me. Honestly, I think my ex-wife is probably enjoying it more than she would have if we were still married. She gets to be the center of attention with the kids, surrounded by her parents, without having to manage me, my moods, or the pressure around sex and our relationship. She gets to simply enjoy time with her family. That realization fills me with an unexpected happiness for her. This trip is a celebration of her new life too. She gets to be present, supported, and free to enjoy herself without worrying about me, and I genuinely feel glad that she has that.
Earlier in the day, I text my ex-wife to say thank you. After listening to the book and sitting with everything more clearly, I tell her how grateful I am to her for helping us move into this next phase of our lives. She has been the driving force behind getting us through the divorce, and she has made the process far easier than it could have been. She has been steady, cooperative, and kind throughout most of it, which is exactly why I wrote The Kind Divorce and later Sober Through Separation. In reality, the process itself has been relatively smooth, and most of the drama has come from me. That does not mean everything has been simple or one-sided. Sometimes people do end up in dynamics where one person becomes the visible source of drama while the other behaves in subtler ways that offload their own emotions and tension. There may be moments where I have felt a bit gaslit. At the same time, I am very clear that I have agency. I am capable of not spiraling. I am capable of doing better. Both things can be true.
I wrap up a warm call with my ex-wife and the kids right as I pull into my sister’s place. She lives in a three-bedroom, one-and-a-half-bath condo, and as soon as I walk in, I am met with genuine happiness. She and her kids are clearly glad to see me. Her kids are teenagers, and they enjoy swearing, which makes me laugh because my brother and I were absolutely not allowed to curse when we were growing up, even though my parents swore freely whenever they felt like it. After I went away to college and came home swearing, it slowly became normal, and now here we are, a whole group of us casually swearing together like it is nothing.
I have a great conversation with my sister, and she makes an incredible dinner. I even eat a few pieces of the chicken she cooked, which is genuinely delicious, along with rice and broccoli. She makes me some tea, and a little after 11:11 p.m., I get settled on the couch to sleep. Lying there, I feel deeply grateful to be here. If you had told me a week ago—maybe even three or four days ago—that I would be in Michigan right now, I would have been genuinely surprised. That realization opens up a bigger one: how much else do I not know yet?
What if I meet a woman and we end up traveling all over the world together, having a lot of fun and building a beautiful life? That possibility feels real to me now, and it feels worth celebrating. I think back to 2009, when I was dating the dispatcher at the police department where I worked as an officer, something I wrote about in Officer Banfield. I remember how miserable I felt back then, how badly I wanted everything to end. I also remember thinking many times over the last sixteen years how grateful I am that I made it through that period, because it became an incredible experience of growth. My life since then has mostly been very good—far better than I could have imagined at the time. If you are in the middle of a period that feels miserable right now and can’t yet see the growth on the other side of it, you can schedule a private call with me and we’ll talk it through together.
Sitting here now, I feel like I am standing at the beginning of another chapter like that. I cannot see what is coming, but today has left me feeling confident that there is a really good life ahead of me. I just do not get to know exactly how it will unfold, and that actually makes it better. If you had a full itinerary for your entire life laid out in front of you, knowing exactly what would happen and when, how boring would that be? The mystery, the not knowing, the surprise—that is what makes it alive.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
Giving to People in Need: Why I Give $20 and Serve First
Originally published November 16, 2025.
Here is my answer, plainly. I believe you have enough money the moment you can give some of it to someone who asks. When a person is holding a sign that says hungry, I give them $20, and I do not experience that as a sacrifice. It is one of the things I enjoy most, and it is the view I hold today.
I did not always see it this way. For years I was the kind of person who would argue with somebody rather than hand over a dollar, and that was an unhappy way to live. The posts below run from late 2025 to the summer of 2026, and reading them in order shows the change.
The earliest post, I Was Surviving, Not Serving, is an excerpt from my memoir about fourteen years of internet fame. In it I admit I had been telling myself I was serving the collective online, when really I was in scarcity mode and afraid. The way out I describe is to move from survival into contribution and to connect face to face, through things like AA meetings, yoga and massage.
I Serve First, the Money Follows came a couple of weeks later. That day I was sketching small in-person masterminds where single people could share what was working in their dating lives, and I thought I could charge around $30 a person. The post also admits I was still chasing attraction at a meeting that night, and I left that in.
The same month, Learning to Love Wider Than My Family pushed the idea further. I was flying to Michigan in the middle of my divorce, and I wrote that my love had been narrowly focused on my kids, my ex-wife and a small circle of friends. I asked whether love could reach outward to the strangers around me in the airport, every one of whom someone loves. My children were not supposed to be the only place my generosity went.
By January 2026, in How Can I Make Somebody Else's Life Better, the question had turned practical. I was moving house and trying to work out what business I could build around helping people. I was candid that my earlier direct-mail letters read more like a sales pitch than real help, and the post does not pretend I had the full plan worked out.
The summer of 2026 brought the view into everyday life. In When the World Feels Hopeless, Give Value to People, I wrote that the quickest way out of a down day was to ask how I could help someone else. In my experience, when I focus on what I am offering, people show up to make sure I am taken care of. Giving makes space to receive.
Why I Give $20 to Anyone Asking for Help on the Street is the most direct statement of the view. I give $20 to anyone I see on the street asking for money. I tip $20 on a $40 bill, and when a waitress asked why we were so nice, I told her it is nice to be nice to people. The reason I give is that I know how close most of us are to the street. I was an alcoholic, and the only reason I was not on the street was that my parents took care of me.
I do not pretend this is simple. Online it is harder: once I sent $20 on PayPal to a man who asked for it, and soon his friends and family were all asking too. With around 7 billion people on earth, I cannot give everyone a cent, so I give where I can see the person. A friend who is homeless gets $20 when I pull over to see him.
Underneath all of this is a belief he states plainly: there is enough to go around. He lives in St. Pete, Florida, where million-dollar houses are going up next door, and a man he talked with outside a store told him most people gave nothing, or a dollar at most. "You have enough money when you can give to people who ask you for help," I wrote.
Below this opening you will find the contents and then every post in full, oldest to newest if you want the arc. You can also see what I am making this month in my October 2026 vlogs.
If you want to work through your own giving, your relationship with money, or your next step, you can get a personal video review from me at https://jerrybanfield.com/review/.
On this page
Every post I have written on this subject is below in full, newest first, each under its own heading.
- Focus on Giving Love (July 18, 2026)
- Why I Give $20 to Anyone Asking for Help on the Street (June 17, 2026)
- When the World Feels Hopeless, Give Value to People (June 15, 2026)
- How Can I Make Somebody Else's Life Better (January 4, 2026)
- Learning to Love Wider Than My Family (November 24, 2025)
Focus on Giving Love
From my video published July 18, 2026.
The Battle in My Head
I'm waging a battle in my head. All day, every day, it's constant. It's the battle of: will I choose love and kindness and joy? Will I choose hope and faith? Will I trust people, or will I believe the opposite? It's tricky, because in life we do need to be reasonable, look out for ourselves, and not put ourselves in bad situations. But it seems like so much of the time we have the chance to choose love, to choose trust, to choose acceptance — or we're tricked into choosing fear, tricked into choosing separation.
I'm putting this into practice in my new relationship, where every opportunity, every communication, every part of the day is a chance to choose to love the person, to trust her, to believe her, to have faith, to be patient, to wait — or to do the opposite. And this is true with every relationship we have with everybody. These are the same dynamics. To me, it goes to every big area of our lives, where we have a choice between love and hope and faith and joy, or a choice to get into fear, resentment, and disbelief. Now, there's certainly a place where these make sense in life. But a lot of times what we're doing is putting them out all the time. Yes, occasionally it makes sense — okay, that was a little scary, or I'm not feeling right here, I need to relocate, I need to reposition. I'm not saying having any kind of feeling is right or wrong. But to me, the ongoing war is to choose love, or to choose the opposite — however you want to phrase the opposite. The ongoing task in my life is to choose love, to choose to be there for other people. And it's a constant thing.
What You Put Out Comes Back
What I've noticed is that whenever I start to feel a little bad, it's like I'm unconsciously making the choice I don't want to make. And what feels good is to just constantly, almost like a chant, put out love. For example, if there's someone you're waiting for a message from — I believe we're all connected, and when I put out love and joy towards other people, they feel it. Now, everybody's not necessarily going to immediately respond to that or change everything they're doing because of it. But what I've noticed is that the more I love other people — whether I express it to them or not, but especially when I express it — the more other people love me back. And the more I don't trust other people, the more I'm afraid of other people, the more I judge other people, the more I'm judged back.
The beauty is that every second is a choice. Lots of times we get tricked into thinking that based on the past, we have to make a certain decision today. But the way I see it, we don't. The past should invite us to remember the lesson: that choosing love today is the best choice we can make.
I've just gotten really excited about a new relationship with a woman I met very recently. And almost everyone has basically encouraged me to be fearful and skeptical. "I hope that works out for you." "Slow down." "It's not a good idea." "Don't" — basically, to not love with my whole heart. And what I say is that to me, the scarier proposition is to live life not loving with my whole heart. The most beautiful thing I can imagine is to really love with my whole heart, and if I get hurt, to trust that I can handle it. That's true in any situation: to just choose love constantly, all the time, and to trust that if something doesn't work out, I can handle it. To trust that I'll get help. I'll ask for help. I will reach out. I will share. I'll express. I'll feel. I'll listen to music. I'll go to bed. I'll relax. No matter what situations I come across, my choice to love and to trust and to open my heart is a choice that will bring me the most joy, and it will bring other people the most joy. My choice to love will be felt by others.
Sometimes it may not be perfectly linear. You may choose to love and forgive one person, and that doesn't mean that person will express it back to you directly. But it may bring another person to you who will treat you with that love and respect. This, to me, works with everything and everybody in your life. And the key point of power is to find who is easiest to practice with. Who's the easiest person to put out love and good vibes towards today? Then just do as much of that with them as possible, and then spread it out to everybody else as much as possible. And then have forgiveness for yourself and for others when that doesn't happen, because sometimes I'm not at my best — just like we all aren't. Sometimes my first thought is not love and joy and connection. And sometimes there are areas of life that are pretty challenging, where it can be hard to find something loving, hard to find something positive. In that case, often the best thing to do is reposition. And sometimes maybe some criticism is warranted in certain situations — then provide it and move on. Sometimes the people I care about the most need to tell me things that in the short term I don't want to hear, but in the long term I'm often very grateful for.
Keeping an Open Heart Like a Child
So I keep setting the intention today that I want to love other people as much as possible. I want to share this message. I want to keep an open heart, because a lot of us, when we're kids, have really open hearts. Like this little girl I ran across today walking around the park — she was there with her dad, and she was just like, "Hey, how are you?" That warm, open-hearted enthusiasm. How many of us as adults, if we see some random adult we don't know, are going to look at them and say, "Hey, how are you?" with genuine enthusiasm? That's what's so beautiful: we have the choice to continue doing that as adults. Lots of times as kids, for one reason or another, we were encouraged to avoid doing that. We got hurt. We closed up. We gave up on it. But the beauty is that, especially as adults, we have the chance to open back up to love anytime.
Ideally, yes, there are certain situations where you might want to close off, where maybe you do want to be a little defensive. But I would think those are often the minority of times. And ideally, if I see I'm in a situation where maybe I should be a little more guarded, the ideal scenario is to try not to be in that situation as much — to reposition. If I feel that with a certain person I have to be more guarded, that I can't really love wholeheartedly, then either I need to change my attitude and pray for forgiveness, or maybe I just need to find somebody else to hang out with. And finding somebody else to hang out with will naturally make it easy. I find that when I'm around the right people, it's very natural and easy and effortless to love. Around some people, it takes a massive amount of effort. So in an ideal scenario, I try to surround myself with the people who can give me the most love and to whom I can give the most love back, because that makes the world better.
Loving Everyone, the Creator, and Even AI
To me, some of the things I see online are just crazy. I'm like, why can't we love each other enough to not do that? And yet it starts with me. If we look at how life is often a chain reaction, one of the most miraculous things we can do is just choose to love each other. And then beyond that, to look at who created all of this — whatever you want to call it — and ask: can we love the creator of everything, whatever that looks like in form or in your mind? The more I can love other people, the more it makes sense to love the creator. If I can love a specific person in my life — which is often easy when you're in the euphoria of a new relationship — well, can't I love everyone else, and the creator of all this? Can't I love everyone and everything, the trees, the animals? Can't I be grateful for this entire experience and just consistently put out love with my heart?
I can even love AI. I created a game with AI — it's a free-to-play game. I love the AI tools I use. I'm so grateful, because AI tools are just miraculous: I can think of a video game and create it. I made myself the main character in the game and set everything up how I wanted it. And I love the AI. I'm like, thank you, AI, for helping create this. What a fantastic collaborator. It seems like almost everything that challenges us in the world could come back down to, at some level, a lack of love.
Now, I know it can seem naive to think that you can just go around loving everywhere and not get hurt. Absolutely, I get hurt, and I get disappointed, and my love is not returned sometimes. But I've noticed the majority of that starts with me. If I'm really loving, I'm going to naturally be attracted to similar situations. And when I'm in fear and scarcity, I often will be attracted to those situations. Sometimes that creates the desire to change — like, oh, maybe I shouldn't go to this community anymore when I feel bad after going there. Or maybe I should try going somewhere new, and maybe I'll feel good going there. It's such a beautiful thing in life to design my whole life around love. Where can I go? What kind of work can I do that I love?
None of Your Love Is Wasted
That's why I do this. I love doing this work. I love creating videos. I love helping others. I love sharing what I've learned. Because I love doing it, I keep doing it. And because I love doing it, others love that I do it, and I often get a lot of positive feedback. Then I accept that part of the price of really loving wholeheartedly is that sometimes I'm not going to receive that love back. And that's okay, because sometimes people love me — especially people who watch my videos — and I'm not able to give specific love back to each person. That's why I set it up so that if you want that one-on-one time with me, you can schedule a private one-on-one call with me — that's what supports how I do my work. I accept that's not going to work for everybody, and that's okay. I give all the love I have to give, and then I accept that the love I get in return is a function of the love I give. So the more love I can give, the better.
Some people say, "Well, doesn't that make it easy for everybody to just use you?" I find no, because the more I love and respect myself, the more I will instinctively avoid situations that are not loving and not caring. I'll instinctively avoid or push away people who aren't loving and caring. That's just kind of like the law of attraction. And I'm really grateful to have this message to share with you — I share more messages like this one in my Life playlist. The message is that none of your love is wasted. In the short term, it sometimes might look like you loved and gave all this and didn't get anything back. But sometimes it's like putting in an order at a restaurant: you gave out the order, and it just takes time for it to come back. All that love and joy you give out will come back to you in some form. To me, my exercise is to focus on what I have to give, give as much love as I can, and then be open to receive — to pay attention and be flexible to receive the love when it comes back.
If you want more, I'm doing these as gaming vlogs on my Jerry Banfield Games channel on YouTube, and I have the written versions too. You can play my game for free at jerrybanfield.net.
Why I Give $20 to Anyone Asking for Help on the Street
From my video published June 17, 2026.
Every time I see somebody on the street asking for money, I give them $20. If someone is struggling badly enough to be holding up a sign that says "hungry," and I've got several hundred dollars in my wallet, the thing that feels right to do is help them. I love seeing the joy on someone's face when I hand them $20. Giving $20 is no big deal to me. When I go to a restaurant and the bill is around $40, I'll tip $20. The other day the bill was about $55 and I gave the waitress $80. She asked, "Why are you guys so nice?" And I said, it's nice to be nice to people.
There's a story I read one time about someone, I think it was Bill Gates, before he became a billionaire. He didn't have enough money for a newspaper, and the guy at the stand just gave him one for free. Later, after Gates was wealthy, he came back and wanted to give the man money, and the guy said, "I don't need your money. I barely have enough to live on, but I'm happy to give you something for free if you need it." Being rich and then being able to be generous is no virtue. To me, real generosity is this: if you can help somebody else out, will you do it? Most of us are in a position to help somebody else.
Why It's Harder Online
It is tricky online, because there are tons of people who will message me for money. For example, I gave one guy from the Philippines $20 randomly on PayPal. He just asked me on PayPal, so I sent it. Then everybody he knows, maybe not everybody, but he tells all his friends and family, and suddenly they're all hitting me up for $20 too. The issue with online is scale. There are around 7 billion people on earth, and I can't even give everybody on earth one cent, because that would totally drain me. So yes, it's challenging online, because there are so many people and you can reach so many of them.
But in person, how many people on the street am I going to run into in a day? Usually zero. I do have a friend who's homeless. I'll pull over if I see him walking and give him $20.
The Day All I Had Was Hundreds
I didn't have any twenties the other day, and that comes down to opportunity cost. If you keep a wallet full of $1 and $5 bills, your whole wallet ends up holding maybe $100 total in all that space. I like to not carry any small bills, no ones, fives, or tens, because of the opportunity cost. That same space could hold twenties, fifties, and hundreds. (And I'm saying this out in the open here, I don't have my wallet on me, y'all.)
So the other day, all I had was hundreds, because I'd already spent or given away all my twenties. I saw my homeless friend, and I had my two kids and my niece in the car. I said, "Oh, there's my friend, but all I have is hundreds." And they pushed my generosity limit a little. They said, "Give him 100." I said, "Give him 100? Really, y'all?" And they said, "Yeah, give him 100." So I gave my daughter a $100 bill to hand to my friend. When he got it, his response was, "I've never seen one of these before." I was just like, wow. There's almost never a day where I don't see one of those. All I see is $100 bills, and that's because other people give them to me. The only reason any of us have money is because somebody else gave it to us, unless you're the federal government printing it yourself. Somebody else gave you the money you have.
You Have Enough When You Can Give
So yes, we don't want to just give all our money away. I don't want to give one cent to a billion people and end up with nothing. That's true. At the same time, life doesn't usually put too many people in our path. There's a lot of joy I get when I give someone $20 and they're really happy. I don't get that joy from letting it sit in my wallet. And it seems the more I give, the more I get back. I'll give $20 to a person I see on the street, and then someone comes in and gives $20 on a super chat, and someone else comes in and gives $100 while I'm live, and then someone pays $350 for a call.
I'm big on the idea that there's enough to go around. Some people say, "You can never have enough money." In my experience, you have enough money when you can give to people who ask you for help. When you see someone who needs help, whether they've got a sign that says "hungry" or they've asked you directly, you've got enough money the moment you can give something.
I think it's crazy, because I live in St. Pete, Florida, and there's a lot of money here. There are million-dollar houses getting built next door to me. One day there was a guy sitting outside by the store, and I walked by but didn't have any money, because I'd walked to an AA meeting and either forgotten my cash or already given someone else my $20. So I walked all the way back home, got $20, got in my car, drove over, and he was still there. I gave him the $20 and he was so happy. I asked, "What do most people give you?" He said, "Most people don't give anything, and if they do, they give some change or a dollar." These are people driving around in new Teslas, going to work out in $100 workout clothes, paying to put their kids in private schools in my neighborhood. I don't live in the fanciest neighborhood around, but the houses here are probably several hundred thousand dollars on average, and the newer ones are getting built for over a million. I live in an area where there are a lot of people with a lot of money.
So I think, what are y'all doing? Somebody is desperate, and all you have is some pocket change. All you have is a dollar, all you have is five dollars. But you'll go spend all kinds of dumb money on a new car or a new house. You'll go to the liquor store and dump your money there. You'll spend money on absolutely insane stuff, buy all kinds of crap, but you don't have a dollar. You don't have $20 for somebody so desperate that they're sitting there with a sign that says "hungry."
"They Should Just Get a Job"
Now, yes, I hear the argument. Everybody says, "They're just going to go buy crack or alcohol, you can't support that, they should get a job." Well, have you ever been that desperate before? Is it just that easy? Is it just that easy for you to get a job if you got kicked out? I've been an alcoholic before, and the only reason I wasn't on the streets is because I had parents who took care of me, and I wasn't quite sick enough to be unable to stay mostly sober while I lived at home with them. Most of us are just one family member, one friend, or a few people away from being on the street. So saying someone should just get a job, that's something you say when you haven't had that experience yourself and don't see how easy it is to wind up on the street. Some of us are differently abled in this life, and it's not as easy for everyone to keep a job.
I can tell you, I haven't had a job in a decade, and I'd rather live on the street than work some job I hate. It's really nice now. I used to be the kind of person who would fight with somebody rather than give them a dollar. And what I can tell you today is that that's an unhappy way to live your life. It's an unhappy way to live when you don't have a dollar or $20 to help somebody else who's desperate, but you've got $100 to buy yourself a new pair of shoes, $1,000 to take a vacation, $10,000 or $50,000 to buy yourself a new car.
I hated myself and I hated the way I lived, the feeling and the scarcity mindset I had back then. I love how I feel now, when I've always got something to give somebody else. If you want to hear more about how I got from that old way of living to this one, I've shared a lot of it on my Life playlist.
When the World Feels Hopeless, Give Value to People
From my video published June 15, 2026.
When the world feels hopeless, the secret is to give value to people. I've had a lot of big changes this past year — deleting my YouTube channels, getting divorced, moving into my own place — and there were days I felt really down. The easiest thing that pulled me out instantly was asking: how can I help someone else?
Six chances a day to give
It's easy to look around and think it's all pretty pointless — dating is hard, making money with integrity is hard, health is hard. But what helps me is focusing on how I can give to someone else as easily as possible. Getting back on YouTube is a big part of that: I post a video on each of my six channels every day, and that's six opportunities to help someone. My crypto videos help people see clearly in a messy space; my gaming streams help people who are lonely; my dating and YouTube videos share what I'm learning. When I focus on how much I'm giving, I simply don't have time to feel hopeless.
Giving makes space to receive
When I'm hopeless, it's usually because I don't see how I'll get what I want. But when I focus on what I'm offering, I notice people show up to make sure I'm taken care of. There's endless content online, but what people really need is to talk to someone, bounce ideas off someone, and be listened to — so I set myself up to give that, and people book calls. By focusing on giving, I make space to receive, and I get to keep working and filming from home while lifting others up. If I'd only focused on my finances and my dating, it would have looked uncertain; focusing on sharing what I've learned lifts me up in the process.
It's all an adventure
In some ways it feels like I'm constantly fighting the evil in the world, but I remind myself we're part of a bigger story — all of life is a stage, and we're performing on some level. It gets hopeless when you forget this is a journey meant to be enjoyed. Some of the roughest times in my life I now look back on with nostalgia: they were hard, but they were character-building, an adventure. Lately life has been a little more difficult than usual, but the adventure has been higher than usual too, and I've loved it. So here's the programming for the next time you feel hopeless: help somebody else. And if you don't know how, ask someone for help — giving another person the chance to lift you up is its own gift. If you'd like to talk, watch my life playlist here.
How Can I Make Somebody Else's Life Better
Originally published January 4, 2026.
This is my journal entry from January 4, 2026 — my real, unedited day, shared just as it happened.
The only thing I had on the whole calendar today was my AA meeting. I got up and my idea I had last night in bed, I guess really this morning, was that I should do a marketing letter. Get a letter inside an envelope, a letter that could really help someone, share all of my experience and ask for help. I think on the outside of the letter I would write 'help.' And on the inside, it would offer help in areas that I've had success in, like how I lost weight and kept it off, what I did to get sober, how I went through a divorce smoothly, my thoughts on money, et cetera. I'd share my experience, strength, and hope for someone. And then at the end of the letter, I'd ask for help. And I'd be like, hey, I'd love your help monetizing these things. I know there's plenty of money out there. I'm just not sure what details we need. Do I need a mastermind group where we meet up at my house? Or should I do one-on-one coaching, help you write books, consult with marketing, etc. And also be like, hey, this is who I'm looking to date, these are the things I need help with. And I think the best thing we could do for the world is make an attempt to try and help each other as best we can.
So I'm really excited about that letter idea, especially because it should only cost me like 20, 25 cents to put one of those little letter packets together, like five, ten pages front and back, put it in a six-by-nine envelope and just drop it on people's doors. I just really want to get out there to more people, man. I feel like that's often the difference, getting out there to more people. I want to start thinking, what can I do to help somebody else too? Can I drop something on somebody's doorstep that would change their life? Like my last letter, basically it didn't offer much to somebody. It just was kind of a sales pitch. I want something that really leads by example, offers help, could change somebody's life, get somebody thinking, and be a gateway to work with me. Getting out there to more people and actually helping them is what drives me, and if that resonates with you, you can schedule a private call with me and we'll figure out how to do it in your life.
I got the drone and everything already. And it was a little foggy. My son called first thing in the morning at like 7.30 to ask about the drone. And since it was foggy out and wet, I'm like, why don't we wait a little bit? Well, then my daughter got some plans in the afternoon with a friend. So at around 10, I'm like, let's go to the park, kids. Let's use the drone. Let's use the new monster truck car. I pick the kids up at my ex-wife's house. I've got the drone and the car and everything's charged. We drive down to a park and it's perfect because I have a drone and a car. The kids can take turns. So my son's so excited to drive the car and my daughter's so excited to drive the drone. So I first get my son on the car. He has fun driving it all over. Then I get the drone set up and fly it up in the air myself to make sure I know how to use it. Then I pass the controller over to my daughter.
The drone lasts about 20 minutes in air. And my son figures out, based on the video we watched of the car, that he can actually take his monster truck in the water and it will swim. Like, this is pretty crazy. I was so surprised. But the truck has four-wheel drive and the wheels have treads. So in the water, even if the wheels are not touching the ground, the truck will essentially swim, which is really cool. My son got these other kids to notice him driving the truck in the water. So he had a couple of boys watching him and waiting their turn. Then the drone battery ran out. So I tried to land it, but when I pushed the landing button, it went into this automatic return from the takeoff point. And unfortunately, there were some trees between where we took off and where the drone was flying back to automatically land. I didn't realize it would go into this automatic landing so quick. I thought I had time from when the battery went low to fly it back or just land it where I was. Thus, the drone goes crashing into the tree and breaks off a little branch and falls all the way down onto the grass. Miraculously, none of the blades broke on the drone and the drone itself appears to be uninjured. I swapped batteries out.
I get the drone in the air again, and swap them out in the monster truck also and give my daughter the controls. Now my son gets his turn on the drone, and he does great. The drone says it's for ages 14 plus, but my son flies it around and has a great time with it, and there's no issues at all. Then I'm able to safely land it as the battery runs out. Meanwhile, my daughter's putting on a show for these now three boys that are over there watching her have the monster truck swim in the water like my son did. My daughter even is kind enough to share the remote with some of the boys and let them drive the car. And amazingly, the car does not go off to sea and die where they couldn't retrieve it. So we have a great time, spend a little over an hour out at the park. I bring the kids back home.
They both got money, so my daughter wants to shower and my son wants to take a bath to clean off. Meanwhile, my ex-wife's putting together dressers, because I am taking the dressers that she used the last few years since my mother moved in, so she's had these dressers three years, for the kids' clothes. They were the dressers my late father made for my brother and me when we were kids. Beautiful pine for my brother's dresser and mahogany solid wood dressers that have lasted over 30 years at this point. I am going to take these to my house, and since I need to get a moving truck anyway, I might as well take the furniture and move that to my house as well. My ex-wife ordered some dressers online, and she's working on putting them together. Thus, I figure I can be helpful and take the trash out. I take a bunch of trash and recycling out for my ex-wife.
And then after the kids are cleaned up, they want to play the game of life, which my ex-wife's been having lots of fun playing with them. We play the game of life and have a great time. It's a very close game. I decide not to go to college and just jump into a career, which ironically, I get the vlogger career fitting, right? Then my daughter just barely wins. My son gets second and I come in pretty close third. It literally came down to like who gave who money, but we tried to keep it kind of fair. After playing life, I feel like it's time to wrap up and head back to my place, which is a little bit before 1. It was a really nice morning with the kids and with my ex-wife, especially after my ex-wife and I had a nice talk last night before bed. It was great.
Then I go back to my house. All morning my nose had been running. Last night I had a really good cry before bed, and my nose had just been consistently running, and I'd been sneezing since then. In my experience, I wondered if some of it was the food from the vegan sushi place or if it was just all an emotional release. What I do know is I had a T-shirt, and off and on during the night I was wiping my nose and sneezing.
I get home a little after noon, and I'm thinking, should I eat or should I work out? When am I going to work out? I miss being able to do the yoga class that I wanted to go to. And I realized it's been a few days since I've lifted weights, so let's go to my gym. So I go to my gym and put in a hell of a weightlifting workout. I go all over the gym using all kinds of machines, free weights, all over the place. My preferred workout strategy for many of the exercises was to just do one or two sets and to do a wider variety of exercises so that I engage more muscles and more movements. Not looking to break muscles down all the way, just looking to stay functional. I run into three people I know from AA at the gym. One of them's an attractive woman. She's been through a divorce. I had a nice conversation with her and then moved on. Then a couple of them were other guys from meetings I talked with and enjoyed the conversation with as well.
I ended up spending almost an hour at my gym doing a weightlifting workout, which is about the longest weightlifting workout I've done in a long time. Feels really good to build my muscles and to see that I can still do the same amount of weights on some exercises that I could a decade or more ago. In fact, on some, I've gotten stronger. Like I did the leg machine where you sit down and your legs are spread out and then you crunch them together, I think that's the abductors. I was able to do the maximum weight on that machine, which is 180 pounds. When I first sat down, I tried to do it and I was like, oh, that's too heavy. So I went down to like 120. But then I worked my way up to 180 and I was so proud. I was able to do like five or six reps at 180, which is awesome. That's literally more than I weigh. And I'm glad those muscles have been strengthened by doing all the one-leg balances in yoga, because you have to engage those there.
After I got home a little after 1, I felt great about my workout. And I listened to a book on Audible, which I listened to most of today, although I started it yesterday. It's called True Wealth: Nine Lessons from a Grandfather on Happiness and Abundance by Ken Honda, who's from Japan. And it was a beautiful book. I really enjoyed the lessons in it. One of the things that stuck out to me was to think of, how can I add happiness to somebody else's life? I often am thinking about how can I get what I want, but that often backfires because sometimes the strategies to get what I want don't match what I could do to make someone else happy.
Like I was thinking in the shower tonight, maybe if I go to bars or dance clubs, I can meet women there and get what I want, and maybe even find a woman to be my second wife. But then I'm thinking, would those be places where I could help somebody else have a better time? No, that's ridiculous. When I think, how can I make somebody else's life better, the letters that I sent in the mail before were an example of, I don't think those letters made anyone's life better. But if I could put a letter on somebody's porch that they'd read and it'd make their life better and add happiness to their life, that's what I want to do. And I want to build a business around, can I find a creative way to try and help somebody have a better life? And I'm sure from there, all good things will flow. Building something that genuinely makes someone's life better is what I want most, and if you'd like to build that kind of life too, you can schedule a one-on-one call with me and we'll map it out together.
After having a nice big lunch and listening to True Wealth, I then went to work editing my memoir book, which will cover basically everything before Daily Autobiography, with the working title Automatic Escape. But I think we're going to do a different title than that. I don't know if I'm feeling a title that's Automatic Escape. I spent hours editing the book. Then a friend, who used to be a professional mover, texted me that he was able to come look and assess the move right now if I was available. So I said, yes, please. So he came over to my house, looked at the stuff I've got here, and then went to my ex-wife's house and looked at the stuff there. He thinks a smaller medium truck should be able to easily do it. And he said he should be ready on Thursday, which is great. I'll have a few days to prepare.
I ordered some blackout curtains and a chair, which to me are two of the main things I need to be set up there since I don't have a couch that I'm going to take over. And the blackout curtains, we need to get the bedroom blacked out. I just ordered a couple of blackout panels. I spent some time researching and it seems like the best thing I could do is get these blackout window privacy film coverings that you put water on to stick onto the window. So I ordered enough of those to cover a couple of windows. I'll test that, and if it works good then I'll do the other couple of windows and hopefully be ready before I'm even sleeping there.
After a friend came over to assess the move, initially he said he might be able to do Tuesday, so I immediately just start throwing littler stuff in my car and driving it over to the house. I'd rather put as few things in a moving truck as possible and keep the moving truck just for bigger things I can't put in the car. So I spend a little over two hours running back and forth to my new house. There was a moment where I stood in the house and I just felt the energy of the people that have been in there and all the good times I'm going to have in there. I'm like, thank you. This is so awesome. I'm really grateful for this house. And I'm sure the funds will continue to pour in to support it.
My ex-wife sent me the last of the marriage settlement. Now it's my turn to sign over the car and the house. That money has paid all my bills though, that's been everything I've paid for: rent, security deposit. So 5,400 of that is security deposit and rent for the new place, plus several thousand in rent for the existing place. But that's also everything else. I've spent most of it already. I'm really excited to see what I'm gonna do to make money.
I get to the AA meeting tonight after running to the house a few times, and I tell one of the guys, who moved recently from up north with his girlfriend, my business idea. He thinks it's exciting and he's working on starting his own business as well. I get into the meeting and sit down and the girl next to me gets up immediately as soon as I sit down and moves where she's sitting. So I give her a little shit. I'm like, wow, you didn't want to sit next to me, huh? Something to kind of tease her. And she ends up sitting right in front of me anyway. What's funny is, she has her hair up, and I don't even recognize her. She clearly knows me, and then when she puts her hair down, I remember, and she tells me her name. I'm like, oh, yeah, okay, I've seen you at at least 10 meetings. There's a couple of really hot girls at the meeting tonight, and I make sure to share so I can get them to know me. Whether they like me or not, they'll know.
My name is Jerry Banfield. I got a laugh tonight when I said that one of the things that's important is to have a feeling that you're part of something bigger, which a lot of people are lacking. And then a lot of people call that God, which makes it too esoteric and hard to imagine. Like to me, I said, there's all these cells in my body and I'd like them all to joyfully know that they're a part of Jerry Banfield. And that's how I feel with this body being a part of earth. This body is a cell. This human body is a cell in the body of earth. And we are all part of something huge. And we're all valuable. Like all the cells in my body are valuable, and I count on them to do their roles to keep all the good times rolling.
We had a nice meeting. I laughed and smiled, and I shouted out when they read How It Works tonight. One of the guys was reading it and he left a nice clear pause for me to shout out the part where some of us exclaim that it sounds like too tall an order, I shouted that out loud. And the girl in front of me who moved her seat shook her head. And I'm like, that's fine. It's okay if you want to shake your head. I don't know what she's shaking her head for. Maybe she likes it, maybe she doesn't. What the hell do I know?
After the meeting, I talked with three of the boys. Had a good chat, talking all kinds of shit, laughing, cracking each other up. Felt really good. And I appreciated that I was probably the one laughing the most. And that's a big success, to be finding so much humor in life. I talked to one guy about dating a lot. And I realized, one thing I know that works really well dating is to put out an energy towards women that says, I love you, I appreciate you, you're the greatest. And lately, I haven't been doing that. I've been putting out this 'fuck you' energy. And that's been putting women off for sure. So I'm going to make sure to turn that back on. That's how I got that girl at yoga to get such a crush on me, I put that energy out towards her. The same energy I often was putting out towards my now ex-wife. I put that energy out and it got her attention. So we're going to get some more attention. If you're working on your own dating life and want to talk it through with someone who's been in it, I'd be glad to dig in with you on a private one-on-one call with me.
I was driving home, I drove over to my new house to drop my last load of stuff off. And I was driving home like, do I want to call my mother? I almost called my mother, because I haven't talked to her much in the last week. But I was thinking about Derek Sivers's book that I finished, Hell Yeah or No. It's like, is calling my mother a hell yeah? And it's like, no. It's not a hell yeah at this point. I do miss talking to my mother a little bit. But it's also such a drag talking with her sometimes, especially when she's in a fucking mood and all angry. She easily could reach out to me and be like, hey, you haven't talked much in a week, are you okay, what's going on with you? She expects me to just call her and keep up with her. And yeah, I feel like it's kind of mean in some ways that I haven't seen her for a week. I went over there the last couple of times and I felt worse after. I'm tired of hanging out with people sometimes. Hanging out with the boys felt great tonight. Going to see my ex-wife and the kids felt great. Just too many times I go over to my mother's house and I feel worse. Especially if I'm in a good mood, it's hard to go over there with my good mood. I swear sometimes I just get myself in a bad mood so I can go over to her house.
So I didn't call her. I drove home. And after getting some gas, showered. And it's 11.16 right now. Kids are going back to school tomorrow. So I'm going to wrap up and head to bed. And if anything can motivate me to keep these short, it's realizing that for every minute I dictate, it takes about a minute to edit. And I think I'm probably at least 15 or 20 hours behind on my editing right now. So yeah, if I could just catch up on the editing, that would be great.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
Learning to Love Wider Than My Family
Originally published November 24, 2025.
This is my journal entry from November 24, 2025, part of my daily autobiography Divorce Day — my real, unedited days, published in order.
I wake up still feeling a little drained, but I am profoundly grateful that I slept well. Going to bed around 9:30 p.m. and waking up a little after 7:00 a.m. makes an enormous difference. I feel good in my body again, steadier. I go to say good morning to everyone, making sure I give space and let them tell me when they are ready for me to come over. When I do, I say hi, and I am immediately met with snuggles. I am still completely broken open emotionally, crying on and off, but in a softer way now. I am deeply grateful to have this time with the kids before I leave for Michigan today. This is the last time I will see them for a week, and that fact sits quietly in the background of everything.
I play with my son in his bed. He asks me to tickle his belly, and I stuff his stuffed animals into his pants, telling him it looks like he just pooped a diaper. He laughs uncontrollably, that full-body laughter that makes everything else fade for a moment. My daughter snuggles with me in the new chairs my ex-wife bought for the front of the house, set up in her little reading nook. Before I leave, I hug my ex-wife and tell her I am grateful for the life we built together and for what we are doing going forward. I thank her for how she handled yesterday. She seems better today, more settled, which is a relief. We tell each other we love each other. As I pull away, my son stands just outside the front door, waving and yelling, “Love you, Dad! Bye!” I am crying again as I drive off.
I arrive about five minutes late to tennis and immediately get a phone call and a text asking where I am. I actually appreciate how prompt and attentive these guys are. I show up for doubles with two men I know from the tennis club and another man I have never met. I enjoy the easy conversation and getting to know them. After one of our matches, where the new guy and I win the first set, I ask them for advice. I tell them honestly that I do not know what the hell I am doing with my life right now. I know I have valuable skills, but I do not know how to apply them in a way that makes money or helps people joyfully. I do not even know how I would begin looking for a job. He tells me he has had a long, successful career in finance, and that his family is well connected downtown. He suggests I send him a résumé and gives me his contact information. I am genuinely grateful that I have the courage to be that honest, to ask for help without trying to sell myself or spin some story, just to say plainly that I am lost and open to guidance. If you are in that same place of knowing you have real skills but having no idea how to point them at a life that makes sense, you can schedule a one-on-one call with me and we’ll talk it through.
It also crosses my mind that some of these guys at the tennis club are clearly very successful, and maybe they know things I do not. I end up really enjoying playing doubles with them. At first, I feel conflicted, like I should not be here, like I should have skipped tennis and spent more time snuggling the kids before leaving. But by 10:30 a.m., after winning all three sets, I feel grounded and alive. It becomes clear this was exactly what I needed this morning. All of these guys are twenty to thirty-plus years older than me, and every one of them leaves me feeling steadier.
As we play, I start thinking about love and presence. Is playing and laughing with these men any less important than being with my kids? Can I love them in the same way—not the same kind of love, but love nonetheless? They are here with me, having fun, joking around, talking shit, showing up fully. That matters. And the answer that comes back is yes, this matters too. It is not lesser. This is part of life, and I am genuinely glad it is happening right now. I break a sweat, feel my body wake up, and I really see it today: the social connection in doubles tennis is just as important as the physical movement.
My body feels a little slower after the last two days of burnout, and doubles turns out to be exactly what I needed this morning, especially with this group of guys. Some of them clearly have money and connections, and who knows what kind of help or perspective they might offer. I ask honestly and without expectation. I never assume anything will come of it. I just ask and listen. And here I am, already talking with someone who actually knows what paths might exist from here.
I head home acutely aware that I have one hour to get myself ready to leave for Michigan. Earlier that morning, before my ex-wife and the kids were up, I laid almost everything out on the bed, so now it is just a matter of stuffing it into my backpack. I shower, eat, and get the house set to leave. I make a huge salad to use up lettuce that would otherwise go bad while I am gone, wanting to leave with a full stomach. I pack a plastic container of beans to eat on the road. Simple, practical, done.
From there, I go to see my massage therapist for a massage. I tell her everything that has been going on, and without hesitation her first response is that this Michigan trip is exactly what I need right now, that it should go really well, and that it will likely be a beautiful experience for everyone involved. I feel restored to sanity almost instantly. It is like something unclenches. I realize how much fear I have already let go of, how much growth has happened in just the last twenty-four hours, and I feel profoundly grateful for my friendship with her. Again, the same thought returns: isn’t this love and friendship just as important? Isn’t the love I share with my massage therapist just as valid as the love I share with my kids, with my ex-wife, with anyone else? Don’t I have the capacity to love far more broadly than I usually allow myself to? The love I feel for my kids—shouldn’t that love be something I give outward, without restriction? I leave the massage feeling deeply relaxed, centered, and fully ready for the trip.
At the airport, I carry the container of beans with me and eat the entire thing straight out of the container. No seasoning, no extras, just cooked beans I made a few days ago, dumped into my mouth while I sit there. I throw the container away, chug my entire water bottle, and head through security. For the first time, I do not have to take my shoes off, which feels like a small miracle. I am oddly delighted by it. On the Monday before Thanksgiving, there are only two scanners open at first, and the line starts backing up, but thankfully they have built a dedicated area that actually has room for everyone. They open two more scanners, and things move quickly. All I have to do is slide my driver’s license in for identity verification. I notice how strange it is that I do not even need to show a boarding pass anymore.
I get to the gate and sit down, noticing that I am listed as standby. I assume I will get a seat. I read more of Can You Catch a Cold? which I am almost finished with now. As I look around the airport, something shifts again. I miss my ex-wife. I miss the kids. But I look at all these people sitting around me and think: aren’t all of them someone’s kids too? Aren’t all of them deeply loved by someone, or at least worthy of being loved? Couldn’t I love all of these people the same way I love my own children? It feels like a real revelation. My love has been narrowly focused on my identity as a husband, my work, my kids, my immediate family, and a small circle of friendships. What if love were more generalized, more expansive, reaching outward to all of humanity? Isn’t that what we actually need? If we could all love one another with the same intensity and care we reserve for our closest people, wouldn’t that solve everything? Literally every problem on this planet would dissolve if even a relatively small number of people lived that way. It would spread.
The plane is on time. I get my seat assignment and board, only to find a couple already settled in, with the guy sitting in the window seat that technically belongs to me. He clearly wants to stay there, and they have the aisle seat open. They offer to move, but I tell them it is fine and that they should stay where they are. They look comfortable, and I genuinely do not care whether I am on the aisle or the window. As long as I am not in the middle, I am good. The middle is survivable too, but aisle or window are the real wins. I take my seat and immediately think, this is probably going to be another cry session, isn’t it?
It feels eerily familiar. Just like a year ago, I have the perfect book at the perfect time. On my trip to Michigan a year earlier, I already knew my marriage was over. I knew it in my bones. I knew I had loved my ex-wife deeply, that we had a good marriage in many ways, but I also knew this was not the future I wanted. I knew I needed a divorce. I knew I wanted to find another woman to have children with, because my ex-wife did not want more kids, and I did. On that July 2024 trip to Michigan, alone, I finally admitted something to myself that I had been afraid to say out loud: I wanted another woman, someone different from my ex-wife, someone who truly wanted to have kids and build a family with me. For the first time, I pushed through the shame, the guilt, the remorse, the feeling that wanting that made me wrong or selfish. I let myself feel the desire honestly. And once I did, I realized I could have a genuinely good life following that path. Getting divorced, finding another partner, having more kids could be a happy, valid, meaningful life. In many ways, it could be just as right and beautiful as staying married. It might even be better.
But when I asked people for advice back then, everyone told me to make my marriage work. Everyone told me to focus on fixing things with my ex-wife. When I got home, I told her I wanted to take a romantic trip together. We went to a beachfront resort, and for a day, it felt wonderful. It felt like we had our old relationship back. But as soon as we returned home, everything snapped back into place. Business as usual. I was unhappy again. I hoped that more romance and sex might reignite something, that it could be the spark that brought us back together. Over the past year, it became painfully clear that it was not that simple. There were deeper issues. More sex was never going to resolve my ex-wife’s refusal to have more kids or my desire to have them. If you keep reaching for a surface fix on something that is actually much deeper, you can book a private call with me and we’ll look honestly at what is really going on.
On that trip last year, I listened to The Light Between Us and Signs by Laura Lynne Jackson, and they were exactly what I needed at that moment. I remember sobbing uncontrollably on the plane, thinking how absurdly perfect it was to have those books in my ears at that exact time. Today feels the same. Now I am listening to Broken Open, and once again, it could not be more perfectly timed. I am crying on the plane all over again. As I listen to stories of people who have been through far more than I have, I am not comparing or minimizing my own pain. The point is not comparison. The message of the book is that these kinds of experiences crack you open. They strip away resistance, soften the ego, dismantle old patterns, and allow you to emerge as something truer and more expansive.
That is exactly how I feel. I feel myself opening into a fuller, more loving version of who I am, rather than clinging to a narrow identity built around being a husband, a father, or an online persona. I am not just those roles. I am a human being capable of loving broadly, openly, without conditions. I feel more connected to my soul self, less trapped by old definitions of who I am supposed to be. I feel like someone with an open heart and an open mind, and for the first time in a while, that feels like enough.
As the plane hums along, I remember thinking earlier this year that I needed to have more compassion for other people. Right now, that compassion feels like it is overflowing. I used to be deeply judgmental about divorce. My ex-wife’s sister got divorced years ago, and I judged her harshly for it, sometimes out loud to my ex-wife, often just in my own head. That judgment had to have shaped how I treated my ex-wife and how she felt around me. It carried this unspoken message that divorce meant failure, that her sister had ruined her life, failed her husband, failed her marriage, and that it was mostly her fault. Sitting here now, that way of thinking feels completely insane. If anything, that divorce may have been the very thing that broke her open, expanded her view of life, and freed her from shallow expectations she did not even realize she was living inside of. I can see now how these experiences are not punishments but initiations.
What is also becoming clear is how little we actually understand about how we arrive at these moments. I cannot point to a single, specific thing I did that landed me in a divorce. I did not do this alone. Yesterday, I was drowning in guilt over my contributions to the breakdown of our marriage, and yes, I did my part. But my ex-wife did her part too. We each brought our half. If I had been married to a different woman, I would have brought a different half. The dynamic would have been entirely different, and yet people from wildly different circumstances end up in the same place all the time. In Broken Open, I hear story after story of marriages that looked perfect from the outside—beautiful homes, healthy kids, successful careers, everything seemingly dialed in—while inside, the people involved were stressed, disconnected, and quietly unraveling. One woman in the book talks about being married to a doctor, having young kids, and living what looked like an ideal life, only to end up having an affair because she was starving for passion. These stories are not about moral failure. They are about being human.
The book talks about how, to some degree, we are all just bozos on the bus. None of us really knows what we are doing. We live in a mysterious universe and walk around pretending we understand it, telling ourselves, I know, I know, I know. The truth is, I do not know shit. Out of everything there is to know, what I know is so close to nothing that it is almost indistinguishable from nothing. If the last week has taught me anything, it is how effortlessly the universe can drop an incredible person into my life. The woman I met is a perfect example of that.
She was kind enough to send me a message last night, and it is worth recounting exactly how that unfolded, because it mattered more than I realized at the time. On Saturday—the day I started to spiral—I had messaged her first. I thanked her for our time together the day before and offered to take her to the beach or play pickleball whenever she was free. She wrote back warmly, saying it had been her pleasure and that she didn’t take my trusting her with my story lightly. I replied that our conversation had been a lot of fun and asked when we could meet up again. Then twenty-eight hours passed with no response, and that silence is where my mind started to unravel. Here we go again, I thought. Another great woman, another moment of hope, and then nothing. I replayed our in-person conversation, how open she seemed, how much it felt like she wanted to see me again.
When she finally responded, her message was clear and kind. She said she had enjoyed our conversation too, but in full transparency she had met someone a few weeks earlier and was enjoying getting to know him—nothing exclusive yet, though it seemed to be heading that way—and that maybe she would see me at a future event. I replied honestly, telling her that I appreciated the energy of her message, that our time talking by the water had been a highlight of my week and left me with a lot to think about, and that I was happy imagining seeing her again at another event.
Receiving her message with the energy she sent it in felt good. It was honest, respectful, and clean. And as I sit here now, I can see the deeper truth: I am not ready for her in my life. If I were truly ready, maybe she would have felt ready to prioritize me. But I am still spending hours every day with my ex and my kids. I clearly do not have space right now to wake up next to a woman every morning or to build something new in the way that would require. Seeing that does not hurt the way it might have before. It feels clarifying. It feels like another piece of the larger picture coming into focus. If you are trying to make sense of your own timing and readiness after a big relationship ended, you can set up a call with me and we’ll work through where you actually are.
Talking with my massage therapist helps me see this at a much deeper level. She talks about how much she appreciates waking up next to her boyfriend every day, how that is the best part of her day. Hearing that makes everything click. If I had a woman like her in my life, someone I genuinely wanted to be with, of course I would want to wake up with her every morning. I would want those mornings together. And that would mean giving something up. That would mean I would no longer be taking the kids to school. That alone is about an hour a day, five hours a week. Add in weekend mornings, bedtime routines, evenings together, and suddenly I am giving up ten or more hours a week with the kids. That is the real tradeoff. And then there is the question I cannot ignore: would a woman like that be okay with me spending hours every day at my ex’s house just to be with my kids? If I put myself in her position—single, never married, no kids—I know the honest answer. That would not feel good. It would not feel like she was a real priority. It would not feel like she was number one.
Between that conversation with my massage therapist and her message, it becomes obvious that this is actually a gift. I need more time. Right now, this is a transition period. It has only been a couple of months since everything shifted, and I am still finding my footing. I want to see the kids as much as I can during this phase, partly to minimize the disruption for them, and partly because I still need that closeness myself. The reality is that I am not seeing them much less than I was before, and in some ways, I am more present with them now. When I am with them, I am really with them. But I also know the broader truth: being a divorced dad often means seeing your kids significantly less. That is just how it goes. And that has to be okay. If I want another woman and possibly another family someday, they will become my priority, just as my current family once was.
Ideally, I would meet another woman before having to cut that time with the kids, but life does not always line up neatly. Other changes could reduce that time too—getting a job, moving somewhere else, shifts I cannot predict yet. Today, though, I feel grateful. I genuinely appreciate her honesty and the clarity her message gave me. I can see now that I need time to make this transition internally. And when I am truly ready for a woman, when one comes along, she will be ready for me too.
I think about how many people have told me they met someone and just knew, that there was an unmistakable energy there. Sometimes I get frustrated when I am around people and do not feel that spark, wondering why it is not happening yet. But when that person does come, she is going to require a lot of my time. And while that intensity can feel euphoric, it also comes with real sacrifices. When I really sit with the idea that being in a relationship means missing time with my kids, I feel surprisingly okay with taking my time to date. I am okay with just talking to people, getting to know them, having conversations, and not forcing anything. I am starting to see that it is my responsibility to love myself.
A lot of the emotional weight I have been carrying around dating comes from an unconscious belief that if I meet a woman I am madly in love with, then this divorce makes sense and is justified. And if I do not, then it must have been wrong. Seeing that belief clearly now, I can let it go. No matter what happens next, the divorce is happening. That part is already in motion. Whether I like it or not no longer matters. What matters now is accepting reality as it is and learning how to live well inside it.
I could fight this and create more problems, but I am not doing that anymore. The divorce is happening. That is the reality. Whether it was right or wrong no longer matters, because it is already in motion. What does matter is that I learn how to love myself where I am, appreciate my life as it is, and show up with genuine care for other people. If I do that, I am completely confident that there will be a woman I go absolutely crazy for who goes crazy for me too, just like my ex-wife and I once did. If anything, the last few weeks have shown me how fast that kind of connection can appear. Meeting her and feeling that rush—the ease, the intimacy, the hand-holding, the depth of conversation almost immediately—was proof. That kind of euphoria can happen quickly. Shockingly quickly. And when I really sit with that truth, I also see the other side of it clearly: I am not ready to give up ten or more hours a week with my kids and with my ex-wife right now. I am just not.
I did send the email yesterday morning saying I was not going to rent that house, and that already feels like a relief. Today, I feel even more clarity around my living situation. I want to reduce it to the absolute minimum. I start thinking about whether I could sleep at my mom’s house, if she is okay with it. She has an extra bed. I could be out most of the day, come back in the evening, spend an hour or two together, and then go to sleep. Financially, that feels like the smartest move I could possibly make right now. This transition period has been helpful, but taking on a new lease that does not feel perfect makes no sense. Paying that kind of rent for a four-bedroom, three-bath house would be insane. Even renting a modest apartment would eat a significant portion of my income, even if I landed a solid job. That does not even account for utilities, time, or mental bandwidth. What I really want to do is write books and build a life coaching practice. I am thinking seriously about pursuing a book deal for something similar to I Was Famous on the Internet. I need to acknowledge that building a local writing and coaching career may take time. Keeping my expenses as low as possible buys me that time. If you are trying to design a life around writing, coaching, or work you actually love without the money pressure crushing it, you can book a one-on-one call with me and we’ll map it out.
Talking with my massage therapist reinforces this. She mentions the same thing the woman from the spiritual community brought up a week earlier: there is a Facebook community of conscious-living people who rent rooms to each other, often specifically looking for sober roommates. Some even ask for people in Alcoholics Anonymous who do not use drugs or marijuana. That actually sounds like it could be a really happy living situation for me. One of the clearest lessons coming out of all this is that I should not live alone. I remember saying before that I never wanted to live alone again, and I believe that more strongly now. Living alone has absolutely contributed to my loneliness and emotional instability. I can imagine having a genuinely good life sharing a house with a few other guys, something simple and social, without the weight of managing an entire property. I briefly thought about setting something like that up in the four-bedroom place I looked at, but the landlord made it clear I would not be able to sublet or manage roommates myself. In hindsight, that is probably a blessing. It makes far more sense to rent a room than to be responsible for an entire house.
There is also the possibility that I meet a woman down the road who already has her own place. If that happens, flexibility will matter. Staying at my mom’s house in the meantime could allow me to pay nothing in rent, support her, and not lock myself into anything unnecessary. As long as I am not camped out there all day, it would not feel intrusive. Sleeping there, sharing evenings, and being present without overwhelming the space could actually be really good for both of us. I plan to talk to my mom about this when I get back from Michigan. I am even thinking about whether I can avoid paying another $2,000 in rent and utilities for this month where I am now. I will probably keep the place through December, but $2,000 a month is draining my savings fast, and I am not getting nearly enough value out of having my own place to justify it. When I really look at it honestly, living at my mom’s house would give me almost everything I need right now, without the financial and emotional pressure I have been carrying.
I find myself genuinely curious about where I am going to live next, and what stands out most is that I am approaching it without fear. That alone feels like progress. On the flight to Michigan, I have a few friendly, casual exchanges with the couple sitting next to me. I notice he is watching Bad Boys and she is watching I Know What You Did Last Summer. There is also an attractive woman sitting to my right, and I am aware of her, but I am not in that grasping, searching mode anymore. I do not feel like I need to try to meet anyone. I can just put out calm, loving energy and trust that if there is a real connection to be made, it will happen naturally.
When I get on the Enterprise rental car shuttle and arrive at the Detroit airport, the whole experience feels strangely magical. There is a song playing over the speakers in the bathroom, something about having to die in order to live, and I just stand there thinking, holy shit, this is exactly where I am right now. Walking through the Detroit airport carries this mix of wonder and grief. I feel joy remembering how many times I have been here with my ex-wife and the kids, and at the same time I feel the ache of being here alone, in the middle of a divorce. I feel completely broken open. And yet, the same realization keeps returning: aren’t all these people here enough to love right now? Why did I pour so much of my identity, my worth, and my sense of meaning exclusively into my ex-wife and kids? It feels like I was overdoing that and underdoing my love for the rest of humanity.
On the rental car shuttle, I strike up a conversation with a mom and dad traveling with two boys who are both seven years old, but not twins. They were born about a year and twenty-some days apart, which means for three days every year, they are exactly the same age. One of them just had his birthday, and the next day it will be the other one’s. The older seven-year-old enthusiastically tells me all about playing Luigi’s Mansion 3. Luckily, I have seen my son playing it at an arcade before, so I can actually follow along. The other kid is wearing the exact same shoes my son loves, which makes me smile. I chat with the parents for a bit, asking what they are up to. The dad is wearing a “dad bod” shirt with a beer replacing the “o,” and he gives me strong military vibes. I ask if he was in the military, and he tells me he was, mentioning choppers and deployments. We end up having a genuinely nice conversation. I tell them about my kids, and we keep awkwardly saying goodbye over and over because we run into each other repeatedly inside the rental car office.
Eventually, I get my rental car, a 2026 Jeep SUV, and it feels fun and new in a simple way. As I drive, I realize this would be a good moment for some quiet, or maybe a call with the kids. My ex-wife calls me, and I am able to talk with her and the kids right before I arrive at my sister’s house. They have had a nice day, and I feel so grateful hearing that. My ex-wife is with her parents and the kids, and as I picture it, I realize this trip is just as good—maybe even better—than if they had gone with me. Honestly, I think my ex-wife is probably enjoying it more than she would have if we were still married. She gets to be the center of attention with the kids, surrounded by her parents, without having to manage me, my moods, or the pressure around sex and our relationship. She gets to simply enjoy time with her family. That realization fills me with an unexpected happiness for her. This trip is a celebration of her new life too. She gets to be present, supported, and free to enjoy herself without worrying about me, and I genuinely feel glad that she has that.
Earlier in the day, I text my ex-wife to say thank you. After listening to the book and sitting with everything more clearly, I tell her how grateful I am to her for helping us move into this next phase of our lives. She has been the driving force behind getting us through the divorce, and she has made the process far easier than it could have been. She has been steady, cooperative, and kind throughout most of it, which is exactly why I wrote The Kind Divorce and later Sober Through Separation. In reality, the process itself has been relatively smooth, and most of the drama has come from me. That does not mean everything has been simple or one-sided. Sometimes people do end up in dynamics where one person becomes the visible source of drama while the other behaves in subtler ways that offload their own emotions and tension. There may be moments where I have felt a bit gaslit. At the same time, I am very clear that I have agency. I am capable of not spiraling. I am capable of doing better. Both things can be true.
I wrap up a warm call with my ex-wife and the kids right as I pull into my sister’s place. She lives in a three-bedroom, one-and-a-half-bath condo, and as soon as I walk in, I am met with genuine happiness. She and her kids are clearly glad to see me. Her kids are teenagers, and they enjoy swearing, which makes me laugh because my brother and I were absolutely not allowed to curse when we were growing up, even though my parents swore freely whenever they felt like it. After I went away to college and came home swearing, it slowly became normal, and now here we are, a whole group of us casually swearing together like it is nothing.
I have a great conversation with my sister, and she makes an incredible dinner. I even eat a few pieces of the chicken she cooked, which is genuinely delicious, along with rice and broccoli. She makes me some tea, and a little after 11:11 p.m., I get settled on the couch to sleep. Lying there, I feel deeply grateful to be here. If you had told me a week ago—maybe even three or four days ago—that I would be in Michigan right now, I would have been genuinely surprised. That realization opens up a bigger one: how much else do I not know yet?
What if I meet a woman and we end up traveling all over the world together, having a lot of fun and building a beautiful life? That possibility feels real to me now, and it feels worth celebrating. I think back to 2009, when I was dating the dispatcher at the police department where I worked as an officer, something I wrote about in Officer Banfield. I remember how miserable I felt back then, how badly I wanted everything to end. I also remember thinking many times over the last sixteen years how grateful I am that I made it through that period, because it became an incredible experience of growth. My life since then has mostly been very good—far better than I could have imagined at the time. If you are in the middle of a period that feels miserable right now and can’t yet see the growth on the other side of it, you can schedule a private call with me and we’ll talk it through together.
Sitting here now, I feel like I am standing at the beginning of another chapter like that. I cannot see what is coming, but today has left me feeling confident that there is a really good life ahead of me. I just do not get to know exactly how it will unfold, and that actually makes it better. If you had a full itinerary for your entire life laid out in front of you, knowing exactly what would happen and when, how boring would that be? The mystery, the not knowing, the surprise—that is what makes it alive.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
I Was Surviving, Not Serving
Originally published October 30, 2025.
This is an excerpt from my memoir, I Was Famous on the Internet — my honest story of 14 years of internet fame and what it really cost, and why I deleted it all to choose real life.
From Survival Mode to Collective Service
I’ve always believed in the idea of being the change you want to see in the world. For me, that means being very conscious of how my actions affect others. I can’t just crank out videos saying whatever I need to say to get paid, because I know that harms people.
There are plenty of voices in the system who would argue otherwise. They’ll tell you people deserve to be exploited, that the masses are sheep wandering blindfolded, begging to be led. Some believe people like to be dominated, that they crave submission, that they can’t handle freedom, and that they prefer being owned, controlled, and enslaved by technology because they don’t want the responsibility of creating their own lives. I don’t agree with that because I love creating my life. I love being sovereign and part of being sovereign, for me, is staying conscious of how my choices ripple out to affect all of humanity.
It really comes down to identity. If you believe you are only this body and this mind, you will inevitably live self-centered, consumed with your own survival. You’ll cling to the idea that if your body dies, then you die. Religions prey on this fear, offering promises of an afterlife, but only if you obey their rules while you’re alive. Science fuels this fear too with theories that do nothing to explain the nature of reality and reinforce a mechanistic view of reality. To me, both are just another way of giving up your free will to someone else.
The most important thing I have is my intention—my free will, my ability to choose. That’s where my power lies, in deciding to delete everything online and focus on writing books instead of staying trapped in the endless loop of content creation. That’s why I’m writing this very chapter, to explain that I don’t believe everyone in the world is evil.
What I’ve said in earlier chapters might make people sound terrible—from Facebook gamers cheating their way to the top, to instructors and creators knowingly lying, exploiting, and stealing, to naïve people like me who thought we were saving the world but were really just hoes getting pimped out by platforms. At the end of the day, all that behavior comes from selfishness. From being a scared little person who feels alone inside their own mind, terrified of death, struggling for survival, tricked into chasing useless material possessions, and identifying only as a body with a brain.
The solution, as I see it, is expansion. Recognizing that we are more than just these bodies and minds. Realizing that even without a body, without a mind, life continues. We are infinite creator beings, divine sparks, eternal parts of this universe. We will always exist. That’s the truth of who we are.
Almost everything online works to shrink you down into thinking you’re nothing more than a small, fragile body. Yes, there is spiritual material online that can help awaken you—much of which has helped me—but a lot of that is just recycled from books, repackaged, and resold. When possible, it’s better to go to the source which is often a book.
The system we’re in is not something imposed on us by an outside force. It is our collective creation. It’s the reflection of the consciousness we are operating in together. When people stop acting like isolated little bodies clawing to survive against all the others and instead begin to identify as cells in the greater body of humanity, everything shifts.
That’s how I view myself now. This body I’m in is just one cell in the human organism. Just like you want the cells in your body to function properly so your whole body stays healthy, my body’s purpose is to contribute to the health of humanity. That’s its job. That’s my job.
For years, I deluded myself into thinking I was serving the collective online. Maybe I was, for a while. But eventually I saw the truth: I wasn’t serving. I was surviving. I was in scarcity mode, trapped in fear, playing the same game I despised others for playing.
The real change we need isn’t complicated. It’s moving out of survival mode and into thriving mode. It’s shifting into connection, into contribution, into serving the collective good instead of feeding the endless cycle of separation, competition, and exploitation. That’s the future I want to live in, and the future I want this body to serve. If that pull toward real connection and contribution resonates with you, you can set up a call with me and we’ll look at what being present for your own life could look like.
Bright Auras and Dim Lights
With everything I’ve said about self-sovereignty, selfishness, and identifying with something bigger, you can see how so much of the online system is designed to keep us small. It divides us into these narrow little niche identities that separate us from the rest of humanity. For me, the solution has been learning how to connect with people face to face. Receiving massage has been one of the best tools for that, getting me into my body and connecting deeply with others.
Alcoholics Anonymous meetings have been another place where I’ve connected with real people, in real life, hearing about what they’re going through. To me, an AA meeting is the opposite of what happens online. It’s raw, honest, uncensored human experience, and I believe that’s what we need more of. We need to sit in rooms together, listening to real stories, hearing real struggles, instead of scrolling through all this filtered, censored content online.
Yoga has also been a huge real life practice for me. It’s the perfect example of how to work out in a way that doesn’t just strengthen the body but connects people. At my yoga studio, I get to spend an hour most days in a room full of people, all present, all listening to the same instructor, all moving together without headphones in, without distractions. We’re breathing, stretching, sweating, and focusing. That’s the opposite of what I feel happens online, and it feeds me in a way the internet never can. Yoga, massage, support groups—these are my lifelines.
For years, I used those things to fuel myself back up after being drained by my online work. I’d pour myself out on the internet until I felt empty, then refill through yoga, massage, and AA meetings. What I see now is that the real power comes when I stop draining myself in the first place. I had a sense for a long time that if I wanted to truly step into my next level, I needed to unplug.
The sneakiest thing about the internet is that it doesn’t just eat your time—it suppresses you. Movies, television, mainstream music—they can do the same thing. These forms of media numb us and keep us down. Most people don’t even realize it, because they don’t remember what life felt like before screens. If you look at babies, infants who aren’t constantly staring into devices, you see it. They have raw life force energy. Their presence is pure. Their love is powerful. They radiate something most of us forget as we grow older and get pulled into digital worlds.
I was listening to Oprah’s book What I Know for Sure recently, and she shared a story about a man who survived a plane crash. The plane had gone down the wrong runway in a storm and crashed into buildings; explosions tore through it. He said as people were dying, he could literally see their energy leaving their bodies. Some people’s auras were bright, vibrant, glowing. Others were dim, faded, barely there. From that moment on, he made it his life’s mission to cultivate a bright aura, to be that kind of light in the world.
That story struck me deeply. To me, sovereign beings are exactly that: bright souls, bright spirits, alive and radiating energy. That light can dim or brighten over the course of a lifetime, but wherever you are, you can brighten it today. That’s what we need—not just to transform our own lives, but to transform the world. While there are things online that can support us, the truth is that most of the internet dims and drains our energy. If you want help finding what would brighten yours, I’d love to hear where you’re at — you can book a one-on-one call with me and we’ll talk through your own next step.
I’ve seen it in my own life. Using technology in certain ways can be incredibly supportive. For example, I dictate voice memos into my laptop and then run them through ChatGPT. In just four hours of dictation, I cranked out 19,000 words by combining Apple transcripts with ChatGPT instructions. That’s so much faster than I could have typed, and it even reads better this way. For me, that’s a powerful use of technology—it helps me create.
Still, the challenge remains: most of what we consume online distracts and dims us. It constantly pulls at our attention, making it harder to expand our consciousness. Transformation requires focus, and the internet is built to scatter it.
Looking at the bigger picture, I’m not saying everyone at these tech companies is evil or serving some dark purpose. Maybe there are people who consciously do that, but for me, the key is transparency. If we could see what’s happening out in the open, we’d have a clearer view. What I’ve seen over the last decade is how much deception exists online. Double lives. Two-faced personas. People showing one thing on their feeds while secretly doing something else. If you could see behind the curtain—how people cheat at games, cheat in business, cheat in finance—you’d never follow them. That disconnect between the image and the reality is what poisons so much of the online world.
Money, Survival, and Consciousness
The whole system always comes back to the way we use money, and the way we use money always comes back to consciousness. If you look at many of the platforms that dominate the internet today—the ones that attract billions of users and endless streams of attention—they all began as tiny startups. At first, they were funded by investors, but the real money came later, and it came from the public.
The average person contributes by pouring money into retirement accounts—401(k)s, IRAs, investment funds. What they’re really doing is throwing money into accounts while asking for the highest return possible. Most of the time, there isn’t much thought about where that money is going or what it’s fueling. I heard someone complain recently about “rich people” and their lifestyles, yet this same person has significant retirement savings. Some of those savings are invested in the exact companies that make those rich people wealthy. Their hard-earned money from decades of work is actively helping create the same reality they complain about.
That’s the clearest example of how consciousness creates reality. When we go through life mindlessly—taking jobs just to survive, signing up for retirement accounts because it seems like the safe option, and hoping we can retire someday without considering how the money for that is made—we often don’t think about how our choices ripple outward. People rarely take time to examine every single investment and consider how those dollars are being used to create profit. Instead, money gets thrown into mutual funds, into financial advisors’ hands, into systems that funnel it right back into the largest corporations. The financial advisor makes a healthy cut, the companies gather massive amounts of capital, and from there, trillions of dollars accumulate into the hands of a small group of people who become unimaginably powerful.
That’s how platforms like Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, Google, and TikTok gained so much control. The public mindlessly invested in their stocks through retirement funds and mutual accounts, demanding higher returns without asking how those profits were generated. All that capital concentrated into a few hands, and the result is immense wealth and influence for a small group while the majority remain dependent on their systems.
What would happen if we invested more consciously? If, instead of defaulting to the survival mindset, we put money into local businesses, family, or people we know face to face? Imagine if money circulated in smaller, personal ways. Instead, the conditioning many of us carry is filled with warnings: don’t invest with family or friends, it’ll ruin the relationship; don’t trust small ventures; it’s safer to park everything in mutual funds and let someone else manage it. Those stories keep us from making mindful choices.
The survival mindset reinforces it all. When we are constantly busy and barely keeping up, we do not take time to ask important questions. We just sign papers and move on. Fear also drives it—the fear of old age, of sickness, of being left alone without anyone to care for us. That fear often leads us to hoard far more money than we will ever use. Ironically, the money we cling to often ends up being taken anyway.
Many of us spend our youth trading health, well-being, and time for money. As we start to earn more, we get busier, making increasingly mindless decisions with our money. By the time may of us reach old age and have accumulated real wealth, we are often drained, energy dimmed, and lacking appreciating for our wealth. Often the money gets drained to endless healthcare expenses which might have been unnecessary with preventative measures and living a joyful life. Sometimes the wealth is grabbed by family members who feel entitled to it, or by scammers and predators who show up at vulnerable moments. Sometimes it’s simply claimed by the state when there’s no one left to take it.
The survival mindset and self-centeredness warp money—one of the most valuable energies we have, a tool for distributing human work and time—into something hoarded, manipulated, and wasted. And collectively, we support this by the way we participate in it.
For me, the call to action has been to get more mindful with my money. Even investing in crypto has shown me how easy it is to fall into the same trap. Holding ICP, for example, meant sending my money to people far away, with no real accountability or personal connection. That’s why I’ve been selling whatever I can, apart from the portion I locked up for eight years, and why I no longer put fresh money into it. It makes sense to invest here and there in things I truly believe in, but ideally, most of my money now goes into personal, face-to-face connections—supporting people I actually know, building something real together.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.