Becoming Yourself

Developing a Better You

Category: Personal Development (Page 1 of 58)

Thank You and Good Night (For Now)

January 19, 2026 / / 6 Comments

1. Enjoy my soon-to-arrive granddaughter

2. Spend time with my dad

3. Publish my How to Become a Nomad booklet

4. Go on submission with my adult thriller novel

5. Explore the world with my wife Lisa

I don’t like New Years resolutions.

I’ve learned that goals made on an arbitrary calendar date don’t have sustaining power for me. Though we’re still in January, the above goals for 2026 weren’t born at the ball drop. They are works-in-progress.

I’m reflective by nature, sometimes to a fault. I brood. I chew. I mull things over. Who am I? What is my purpose? Am I doing enough to help others? How should I spend my limited time and energy?

Over the past eight years, I’ve written more than three hundred personal development posts. They’re a collection of my successes, failures, insights, life lessons, musings, and reflections. The act of writing them helped blow away the fog of ambiguity, provided greater clarity, and increased my retention.

My hope has always been that these posts would also shine light on other paths, that the words I’ve thrown into the digital winds would find their way to people who’d benefit from them.

If you’re a subscriber, you may have noticed I haven’t posted much lately. One reason has been the steep learning curve of nomadic life. My wife Lisa and I sold everything in July of 2024 and have been full-time travelers ever since.

It’s taken a bit to find our feet. We’ve learned that the acts of planning for, getting to, settling into, and exploring various destinations around the globe takes considerable time and energy. That’s not a complaint. We’re incredibly fortunate to live this way, but like any path in life, there are practical realities included.

We started a weekly travel newsletter called Footnote: Two Nomadic Authors Hike the World. In it, we share travel tips and humorous, thoughtful, and sometimes embarrassing stories from our nomadic adventures. If that sounds interesting, you can subscribe to our weekly emails by clicking on any post here.

I’ve also written my first adult novel. After publishing five middle grade books and becoming a USA Today bestseller, my traditional publishing career stalled. Book deals are very hard to come by these days, especially in middle grade, so I’m trying my hand at other genres and age groups that interest me. If you’d like to stay in the loop on my upcoming books, you can sign up for my infrequent author newsletter here (scroll to bottom of page).

The realities of nomad life, combined with novel writing and producing travel newsletter content, has made it challenging for me to find time and energy to write about personal development.

And honestly, after three hundred posts, I’ve said a lot of what I wanted to say. Am I done learning and growing? Never. Personal development is a lifelong pursuit.

But recently the desire to write about these things has waned. Perhaps that’s God / Life / the Universe / my True Self telling me something. Everything has its season, and it feels like the time for Becoming Yourself has come to a close.

What will the future hold? I’m not sure, but for now, you’ll probably hear from me seldom here.

I’d love to stay in touch. If you’re a subscriber who has already opted into my writing, I’ll transfer your subscription to our free weekly travel stories newsletter. If you find my writing there isn’t something you’re interested in, you can easily unsubscribe.

If you’d like to keep following my writing, find me at:

Thank you for your companionship on this personal development road over the years. I’m humbled and truly grateful.

A final encouragement—Travel light. Keep good company. Build your identity on a worthy foundation. Choose your ultimate hopes wisely. Believe in Love, Goodness, and the wonderful person you are.

All the best on your journey toward Becoming Yourself.

The Appealing Beauty of Your Imperfections

October 18, 2025 / / 0 Comments

I heard my friend curse. 

Years ago, we’d hired him to install hardwood flooring in our new sun room. He’d missed the nail and left a small hammer mark in the expensive wood. My wife and I assured him that it was fine. We actually like a few dings because it gives the floor character and shows that it’s real. 

I’m working on adopting that perspective for myself. My instinct is to present a faultless, unblemished version of myself to everyone. But that’s not a true picture. It’s not reality. Letting my blemishes and imperfections show makes me more alive, more relatable, more real. The posts where I admit my failings and mistakes regularly get more engagement than my success stories.

It makes sense. With so much fake, filtered, and curated content online, there’s a real hunger for the real, the raw, the unvarnished. We respond to it on a visceral level because we know that’s our personal reality. We’re all lovable, beautiful, and worthy, but we’re also scarred, imperfect creatures with growth edges. Like draws like. Deep calls to deep. Truth satisfies in a way the manufactured never can.

As you consider what to share online and with those around you, drop your guard a little. Open up. Be vulnerable. Be real. Let your cracks show, because, as the saying goes, that’s where your light shines through. If you do, you’ll help create a more honest and meaningful world, and you’ll take another step toward Becoming Yourself.

This post was originally published July 20, 2024.

Want a Richer Life? Try Living Smaller

October 11, 2025 / / 0 Comments

His name was Red.

In a familiar summer ritual of my childhood, Dad pulled his worn blue Chevy pickup into the lumberyard, and I followed him inside. A bell jingled as we entered, and from behind a counter, an older man with ginger hair and a quick smile said, “Hey Keith.”

They chatted amiably. Dad asked Red how “the boys” and “the shop” were doing. Red asked how things were going at the local high school where my Dad held court as the most popular and tenured teacher.

Eventually, Dad pulled out his ever-present notebook from the breast pocket of his work shirt and rattled off the supplies he needed for his current job. He ran a one-man (plus me) construction company during the summer to supplement his teaching income. Nodding, Red said, “Pull around back, and the boys will load you up. I’ll put it on your account.”

His name was Buck. 

As a kid, I’d often follow my dad into the little gun shop in my hometown. I loved the smell of the place, a heady mix of oil and wood and blued metal. I liked counting the number of antler points on the deer heads mounted on the wall.

Behind the long counter stood Buck, his bald pate gleaming above his dark beard and glasses. I never saw him without his black leather vest. “Hey Keith,” he called out. He and Dad would chat about the news, the latest business to open in town, and the local school board.

Eventually, Dad would tell Buck the part he needed for a gun repair he was doing for a neighbor. Gun-smithing is another of my dad’s many talents. Buck would retrieve the part and say, “I’ll put it on your account, Keith.” We’d climb back in the truck, and if I was lucky, we’d go to McDonalds, the only fast food joint in town, for my favorite, a plain hamburger.

I remember those days fondly, mostly for the time spent with my dad, but also for the ways things worked. When jobs and daily errands often involved community and mutually supportive relationships. Where people knew each other’s names and were appropriately familiar with each other’s lives.

That’s largely missing today in our online-retail-big-chain-store-global economy. There are great advantages to those things, of course, but let’s not pretend that something good hasn’t been lost.

Me with my Dad and granddog Otis in September 2025

My daughter Kennedy and son-in-law Sam have chosen to live in a small town. They walk their dogs in their quiet neighborhood and stop to chat with neighbors. There’s a weekly “dog park play date” in Evelyn’s fenced backyard, where everyone’s dogs romp and wrestle while the humans chat about John and Maisey’s downstairs renovations, Bill’s latest work trip, and Sarah’s preparations for her bike ride across France. Kennedy and Sam shop at the local hardware store where you get a free bag of popcorn at the door. They trade Kennedy’s homemade sourdough for fresh eggs from Carson and Carley’s chicken coop. 

I’m proud of them. At young ages, they’ve recognized the importance of community. Relationships. Mutual support. Their lives stir those fond memories of how my dad lived fifty years ago. It gives me hope and makes me smile.

My Dad with his great granddog Leonard

In our nomadic life, Lisa and I enjoy traveling the world, living on cruise ships, wandering global cities, and hiking beautiful places. That said, there’s something healthy and grounding about coming back to our daughter’s neighborhood, about living small and in community with these people who have adopted us as honorary-sometimes-residents. It’s a good life.

As you enjoy the gifts that modern times can bring, I’d encourage you to join me in looking for ways to slow down. To live smaller. Live simpler. Live in community. To take a lesson from my dad and Kennedy and Sam. I think your life will be richer for it, and you’ll take another step toward Becoming Yourself.

« Older posts

Never Miss a Post – Subscribe Here!

© 2026 Becoming Yourself

Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑