Be at ease

There’s a comfort in meeting people who are at ease with themselves.

They don’t arrive with declarations or the subtle need to prove their place; they simply exist, open and grounded. It’s a presence that feels rare, perhaps because we’ve all, at some point, found ourselves clinging to roles, experience, or achievements to affirm that we matter.

This thought came to me during a quiet moment with my wife, reflecting on how easy it is for any of us to step into the role of “the one who knows”—the voice of experience, wisdom, or authority. There’s value in what we’ve learned over the years, certainly. But I’ve come to see that when wisdom turns into a performance, it risks building walls instead of bridges.

Somewhere along the way, many of us stopped meeting each other in conversation without agenda. The world hasn’t always been kind to vulnerability. It’s understandable that we protect ourselves with stories we’ve carefully polished to present a certain way. Yet there’s a paradox in this pursuit: the more we hold onto that polished exterior, the further we drift from the very thing that binds us all—our shared, imperfect humanity.

I remind myself of this whenever I feel the urge to show up perfectly polished. The irony is that it’s in imperfection, in stepping into the day as we all do—one leg at a time—that real connection is found. Wisdom, I think, is less about holding answers and more about the willingness to stand beside someone, not as an expert, but as a fellow traveler.

The world would be better off if we met others without pretense, without the need to perform. If we let our conversations be spaces where we show up, not to prove, but to share. It’s in those quiet, unadorned moments that understanding finds its way through.

And maybe, as we go through our days, we can remember that the most lasting impression we leave isn’t in how much we "know," but in how present we were with what we knew—and with each other.

Perhaps this is the true legacy we leave—not in how well we performed, but in how deeply we shared ourselves, flaws and all. What if that’s what really stays with those we meet?

Cheers for now,