Healing Over Hustling™: Liars Beware!©

 Liars Beware!©

I died today because I lied yesterday,
and the day before,
and the day before that.

It wasn’t a white lie or a big lie or even a black lie.
But a lie is a lie.
So the result is I had to die.

You know when you show up on borrowed time —
time you need for yourself —
but you give it to everyone else.

That’s a lie that can kill you.

You know when you need to be by yourself and work on your health,
but instead you’re doctoring on everyone else.

That’s a lie that can kill you.

When you teach people to rely on you,
the result becomes that’s all they will do —
and you will have nothing left for you.

That’s a lie that can kill you.

All I wanted was to be a better version of myself for everyone else,
but that cost me everything —
even myself.

I died today and it hurt — because there was

No funeral.
No flowers.
No fanfare.

The tears were mine and it was all by my design —
being everything for everyone else
and not enough, and most times nothing, for myself.

How do you break the chain

where you live out loud in vain

to be the change others need

all while you’re in need?

I didn’t get here by myself,
but the test is getting out
without being put to death permanently. 

August 12, 2025 ©

I wrote those words last summer looking for a space to be transparent — being honest about the chokehold of becoming what everyone else needed while what I needed went unnoticed and unmet.

I thought those words would give me a proverbial landing strip — a way to come out of a holding pattern.

Instead of idling in life to stay close for others who might need me, I hoped to take flight into a space that would free me from that type of bondage.

I am not saying being available and willing to share yourself, your time, and your resources is wrong, improper, or misgiving.

What I am saying is you need balance.

Without balance, you teeter either hard left or hard right.

And the lesson you think you’re teaching about resilience and love can quietly become a blueprint for others —
one that teaches acceptance of less and the bare minimum instead of what they truly deserve.

Once I heard a powerful sermon titled Coming in on Broken Pieces, and years later another titled Winning with a Bad Hand.

Both were written from the efficacies of holding on to what you have to make it to where you need to go — no matter how bad or how hard life may seem.

They used Acts 27:41–44 as the springboard for these messages.

“… You've got to know when to hold 'em

Know when to fold 'em

Know when to walk away

And know when to run

You never count your money

When you're sittin' at the table

There'll be time enough for countin'

When the dealin's done

… Every gambler knows

That the secret to survivin'

Is knowin' what to throw away

And knowin' what to keep

'Cause every hand's a winner

And every hand's a loser”

These lyrics belong to “The Gambler,”
written by Don Schiltz in 1976 and sung by Kenny Rogers in 1978.

It is now 2026, and what once seemed like a satirical spin on life through the lens of a gambler now reveals a deeper truth. 

There is a powerful symmetry between:

Liars Beware
Acts 27:41–44
and knowing when to hold on —  and when to let go.

Healing Over Hustling™ is not about abandoning responsibility — it’s about refusing to die quietly from the lies we tell ourselves in survival mode. It’s about how we use the vicissitudes as the embedded pedagogies that become our operational dna. It is a tethering threshold to learn how to balance deprogramming, and unlearning what has become nuanced struggling satiation. Far too long have I been exhausted from surviving — today I am choosing not to be a Liar any more but to embrace this jump into a new improved and more enlightened identity. Stay with me as I unpack and prayerfully we all can become better at being BETTER through this movement of Healing Over Hustling.

Peace and Blessings,
Love and Light,
Coach A

This may be my story to tell, but it’s our journey to share.

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Healing Over Hustling™: Broken Lenses, Frozen Truth

 

Healing Over Hustling™: Broken Lenses, Frozen Truth

This past ice storm wasn’t just about the weather.

It froze my plans in place — plans I made back in January to finally break old patterns of financial struggle. January was supposed to be my reset. My fresh start. My way of not reliving the financial bondage I’ve walked through for the last two years.

But what I didn’t know then was that stillness was coming.

And in that stillness, revelation was waiting.

These last eight days have been really exhausting.

It started two Thursdays ago, right in between the end of the month and the start of a new one. When the ice storm hit, everything came to a standstill. What was supposed to be momentum turned into pause.

But in that pause, I began to reexamine everything.

My footsteps.
My patterns.
Even my words.

And what I realized shook me.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be financially free.
It wasn’t a lack of effort.

It was my heart’s desire to always be the rock.

To be vigilant.
To show up for those struggling.
For those who share my DNA.
And even those who are family by proximity — what I call proximal DNA.

I carry a deep responsibility for the people connected to me.

And while this heart is big, beautiful and full of love … It has also cost me.

On February 1st, I had a moment that brought all of this into focus.

While helping my daughter — an essential worker — navigate through the ice, my glasses fell. I picked them up and tucked them into my pocket, thinking nothing of it.

Later, I realized the frames were broken.

The lenses were safe in my pocket — but the frames that held everything together were cracked beyond repair.

So I did what I’ve always done in survival mode.

I taped them up.

Blue tape holding together something that was never meant to be patched long-term.

And at that moment, it hit me.

I’ve been TAPING over cracks in the frame of my life.

Pushing forward. Holding everything together just enough to function.

SURVIVING!!!! But not healing.

The lenses — my vision, my purpose, my heart — were still intact. But the structure supporting it all was breaking under pressure.

I realized I’ve been using survival tools for wounds that needed healing. This isn’t just about broken frames.

It’s about the broken places we hold together with temporary fixes. The parts of ourselves we tape up because stopping feels impossible. The grind that keeps us moving but never lets us mend.

This journey has taught me something about sovereignty.

About honoring my core self — the part of me created to help, nurture, build, and serve — without sacrificing my own well-being in the process.

Healing Over Hustling doesn’t mean I stop working hard.

It means I stop bleeding while I’m working. It means I stop patching broken places with quick fixes. It means I learn how to show up for others while also showing up for myself. It means shifting from grind culture to wholeness. From exhaustion to restoration. From survival to sovereignty.

These broken frames were more than an accident.

They were a frozen truth. A reflection of what happens when we carry too much for too long. (Also real visualization of burnout.) A reminder that even the strongest structures need care.

And maybe, just maybe, this season of stillness — this ice, this pause, this revelation — is redemption in disguise.

Not punishment.

But an invitation.

An invitation to heal.

This may be my story to tell, but it’s our journey to share.

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