
A Christmas Pause: What This Year Taught Me About Health, Wealth, and Really Living
There’s something about Christmas week that slows time down, whether we want it to or not.
The lights are softer.
The music feels familiar.
The year behind us suddenly feels very close… and very far away at the same time.
I’ve found myself doing what I always do this week:
pausing, reflecting, taking inventory, not just of the year, but of my life.
Not in a heavy, judgmental way.
More like sitting by a window with a cup of happy juice, watching the world go by, and asking:
“𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗲?”
Because if I’m honest, this year didn’t teach me just one thing.
It taught me about health, wealth, work, purpose, people, and presence, all tangled together in ways I didn’t fully understand before.
𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗚𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗜 𝗡𝗼 𝗟𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗚𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱
There was a time when health felt like something you either had… or didn’t.
After a stroke and a heart attack, I know better now.
Health isn’t a switch.
It’s a relationship.
This year taught me that healing isn’t about bouncing back, it’s about rebuilding forward. Slowly. Intentionally. Patiently. Sometimes awkwardly.
I learned that real healing happens:
in quiet mornings
in small movements
in listening instead of pushing
in supporting the body at the cellular level, not just the surface
in honoring what is, not fighting what was
If this year taught me anything about health, it’s this:
Your body is not your enemy.
It’s your partner.
And it deserves grace.
𝗪𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵: 𝗥𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 “𝗥𝗶𝗰𝗵” 𝗔𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗠𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘀
Let’s talk about wealth, because Christmas has a funny way of making us measure it.
For years, I thought wealth was about income, assets, numbers, and security. And while those things matter, especially when you’re rebuilding later in life, this year reframed wealth for me in a deeper way.
𝗪𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵 𝗶𝘀:
waking up another morning
having the mental clarity to enjoy a conversation
being able to walk, move, breathe, and think
sharing a laugh with Sue
hearing from someone who says, “Your words helped me”
Do I still want financial growth? Absolutely.
But I no longer confuse worth with worthwhile.
This year taught me that true wealth is alignment, when your health, your purpose, your work, and your values start pointing in the same direction.
That’s a different kind of rich.
𝗕𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀: 𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗛𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗔𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗻𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁
I’ve spent much of my life building things, bands, businesses, programs, ideas.
This year stripped away any illusion that hustle alone is the answer.
𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗜 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀:
If your business doesn’t honor your season of life, it will drain you instead of sustain you.
I stopped asking:
“How can I do more?”
And started asking:
“How can I do what matters… better?”
Business, for me now, looks like:
conversations instead of chasing
storytelling instead of selling
service instead of pressure
impact instead of noise
The work I do now has to fit who I am now.
And when it does, momentum returns, quietly, steadily, honestly.
𝗟𝗶𝗳𝗲: 𝗕𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗣𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗘𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝘁𝗼 𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗜𝘁
This might be the biggest lesson of all.
This year reminded me how easy it is to live around life instead of inside it.
Christmas has a way of whispering:
“Slow down. Look around. This matters.”
I’ve learned to notice:
small victories
quiet moments
gentle progress
meaningful conversations
the people who stay
the moments that don’t need to be posted to matter
Life isn’t measured in productivity.
It’s measured in presence.
And presence, I’ve learned, is a muscle, you have to practice it.
𝗔 𝗪𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗧𝗿𝘂𝘁𝗵 𝗕𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗘𝗻𝗱𝘀
If I had to wrap this year up with a bow, here’s the whimsical truth it handed me:
You don’t need a new year to become someone new.
You just need to be willing to listen to what the old year already taught you.
Health is built one choice at a time.
Wealth is more than money.
Business should serve life, not replace it.
And living well is about showing up awake, grateful, and engaged.
This Christmas, I’m not wishing for perfection.
I’m wishing for continuation.
More healing.
More clarity.
More alignment.
More conversations that matter.
More moments that feel like life instead of noise.
𝗔 𝗚𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗺𝗮𝘀 𝗜𝗻𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻
If this year stretched you…
If it humbled you…
If it forced you to rebuild parts of your life you didn’t plan to rebuild…
You’re not alone.
And if you’re stepping into the next year with hope, hesitation, or both, I’m walking that road too.
Let’s carry forward what mattered.
Let’s leave behind what didn’t.
And let’s remember that the greatest gift we get to unwrap this season…
…is the chance to keep becoming.
𝗔 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗺𝗮𝘀 𝗥𝗲𝗳𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 (Just for You)
As this year comes to a close, I want to invite you into a simple moment of reflection.
Not the kind that beats you up.
The kind that tells the truth with kindness.
𝘈𝘴𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴:
👉 What did this year teach me about what really matters in my health, my work, my relationships, and my life?
👉 And what is one thing I want to carry forward into the next chapter… on purpose?
You don’t need a long list.
One honest answer is enough.
Sometimes clarity doesn’t come from doing more,
it comes from listening to what the year already gave you.
𝗔 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗶𝘁𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁
If this season of reflection stirred something in you,
maybe about your health, your energy, your purpose, or simply where you are in life right now, I want you to know this:
You don’t have to sort it out alone.
I’ve had many of these conversations myself over the past few years, rebuilding after a stroke, a heart attack, and a complete shift in how I see life.
If you want to talk…
not be sold…
not be fixed…
just talk…
I’m here.
Sometimes one honest conversation is enough to change how the next year begins.
As we step out of this year and into the next, my invitation is simple:
👉 Carry forward what served you.
👉 Release what drained you.
👉 And choose one small step toward a healthier, more aligned life.
If you’d like to:
reflect together
talk through what helped me rebuild my health and energy
or simply have a real conversation about where you are right now
Send me a message or comment “REBUILD.”
No pressure.
No pitch.
Just two people choosing to move forward with intention.
Merry Christmas, my friend.
Here’s to the next chapter, written with wisdom, patience, and hope.
-Bob
