July 2026: Learning to Pay Attention
Updated: 1 day ago
How do I know when something deserves more effort, and when paying attention means choosing a different direction?
July was the first full month of “Becoming.” It did not give me a neat transformation story. It gave me evidence about where my energy was going, what my body was telling me, and what felt meaningful enough to continue.
Where My Energy Goes
On July 1, I walked away from a community project I had already invested weeks in.
The project itself was not bad. I had completed three stories for Rise & Shine Hinesville, but I had reached the point where I was putting more energy into keeping the project alive than I wanted to keep giving it.
I also had to admit that I would like to move away from Hinesville someday. Continuing to build a community project around a place I may leave no longer fit the future I could picture for myself.
The decision forced me to face something I usually avoid admitting. The time I have already invested in something does not mean I owe it more.
Sometimes paying attention means recognizing where my energy belongs now instead of defending where I placed it yesterday. I wanted to redirect that energy toward “Becoming” and work that felt more connected to the life I was trying to build.
When the Body Gets a Vote
I also started paying closer attention to my health.
I established a physical baseline and experimented with fasting, food, movement, rest, and alcohol. Some intentions lasted. Others barely got started.
Early in July, I told myself I would not drink through my birthday. I broke that commitment almost immediately. Instead of pretending otherwise, I began asking what I was reaching for. Was it celebration, a reward after a difficult week, or a brief escape from a personal problem?
Later, I went about ten days without drinking. I noticed clearer thinking, steadier energy, and better runs. The old pattern returned when ordinary life resumed, and I still did not have a final answer about when drinking was worth its cost.
I did have a better question and more evidence to consider.
I began asking what I was looking for in the moment and what the choice might cost me in health, wealth, or relationships. My body was giving me information that my intentions alone could not provide.
The Trip That Refused to Follow the Plan
Neda and I spent several days exploring the springs around Crystal River and Weeki Wachee.
Rain, mosquitoes, early closures, an unexpected park ticket, and the fatigue of paddling in the summer changed our plans more than once. None of it ruined the trip.
We paddleboarded, snorkeled, explored clear water, and saw manatees. At Weeki Wachee, we were floating down the river when a manatee suddenly came up behind us and swam past at surprising speed. Neda caught it on video.
For a few seconds, we were simply there with it.
I do not need to turn that moment into a larger lesson. Seeing a manatee that close was enough. We were outside together, adjusting to the day instead of demanding that the day cooperate with us.
That feels like the kind of life I want more of.
After we returned home, I felt more depleted than I expected. I completed the massage work I could do well, then turned down additional appointments and blocked the rest of my schedule.
Giving up income does not come naturally to me. I also understand the physical and energetic demands of my work. Taking care of myself was part of giving my clients my best.
What Ordinary Work Builds
July also reminded me that trust is usually built through ordinary moments rather than grand gestures.
In my massage practice, I watched one person’s generosity make care possible for someone else. The experience reminded me that years of showing up, listening, and doing my work with care can create something larger than a single appointment.
I may not always see where that trust travels or what someone chooses to do with the care they receive. Sometimes the work matters beyond the moment when it is performed.
That helped me recognize another kind of purpose. Meaning is not always found by starting something new. Sometimes it is already growing quietly inside the work I have been doing for years.
Becoming Useful to Someone
A beta reader told me that 50 Things at 50 was affecting how she thought about her own life.
What moved me was not simply that she liked the book. Something I had lived through and decided to write honestly about had become useful to somebody else.
There is a big, ugly world out there, and it is always trying to kick somebody in the teeth. If telling the truth about my own life gives another person a little light to find their way by, then the writing has a purpose beyond simply telling my story.
That is part of what 50 Things at 50 explores. Paying attention to our experiences can show us what still fits, what needs to change, and what may become useful to someone else.
What July Left Me With
July did not resolve my questions about health, alcohol, work, or where my energy belongs. It gave me more honest evidence.
A project can stop fitting. Trust can move between people. My body can tell me what my intentions miss. An unplanned day can still become a good one. A personal story can become useful beyond the person who lived it.
I do not think the lesson is to walk away whenever something becomes difficult. I want to notice when effort has turned into obligation and ask whether I would choose it again today.
What in your life deserves that same honest question?
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