When the World Feels Too Heavy
A moment of pause in a world unraveling.
I was supposed to share a story today. One about the open road, laughter, and the little joys that come with chasing adventure in a Casita with someone you love and a dog who makes sure you never miss a moment.
But today, none of that feels quite right.
Because this morning I woke up with a heaviness I couldn’t shake. Maybe you felt it too. Maybe you’ve been feeling it for a while—like the ground is shifting beneath us and we’re all bracing for a fall we don’t know how to stop.
Last night I dreamt I was fighting against evil in a world that didn’t feel so far from this one. Hunger Games-style, if you want a picture of it. And I woke up with my heart racing, not because it was just a dream, but because so much of what’s happening in our country right now doesn’t feel like fiction anymore.
People are being torn from their families.
Truth is being twisted until it’s unrecognizable.
And somehow, there are still those who either can’t see it—or worse, cheer it on.
I don’t have a perfect story to wrap around this feeling. No bow to tie it with. But I needed to say it out loud today, for myself and maybe for anyone else who’s sitting with the same grief. The same fear. The same disbelief.
I think about Chase, our little terrier, and how he looks at me when something feels wrong. He doesn’t need to understand every detail to know that something’s off. He just stays close, alert. Loyal. Unmoving. It reminds me that even when we’re scared, we can still stay close to each other.
That’s what I’m trying to do right now—stay connected to the people I love, stay grounded in truth, and stay committed to the idea that kindness, empathy, and courage still matter. Even when they feel small against everything else.
Thanks for being here, for reading, for being part of this community. Some days are for storytelling. Others are for bearing witness.
Today, I’m bearing witness.
– R. Michael




I am well aware of what's happening, but I have to keep it at arm's length -- or even further -- to protect my own sanity and happiness. One day that might not be possible anymore, so I want to hoard the good days we still have.