The other morning, I was doing what I do every single day, making eggs for breakfast. It’s routine and I'm a bit of a routine junkie. I find that it grounds me. Only this time, something small happened that, weirdly, got me thinking about something much bigger.
There I was, egg in hand, about to crack it on the side of the pan like I always do. But I hesitated. Because truthfully, I hesitate every single time.
Why? Because I’m afraid if I bang the egg too hard bits of shell might fly across the stove or worse, onto the freshly cleaned counter. (The cleaners had just come, so you know... everything felt extra untouchable.)
So instead of breaking the egg with confidence, I went in timidly. And of course, it didn't fully crack. Which lead to me jamming my thumb into the middle of it, and you can guess what happened next—shell pieces in the pan, yolk on my fingers, a whole little mess I then had to clean up. Classic.
In that moment, I actually said out loud, “Come on… why can’t things just be easy?”
But the truth is I wasn’t making it easy. I was trying so hard not to make a mess that I created a bigger one.
That moment stuck with me. Not just because I had to fish out shell bits with a spoon (we’ve all been there), but because it made me ask myself: Where else am I doing this in my life?
Where else am I tiptoeing through something because I’m afraid to make a mess?
The answer? Kind of… everywhere.
Whether it’s parenting, work, relationships, or trying to build something meaningful in the world, there’s this underlying pressure to do it cleanly. Smoothly. Perfectly. But life doesn’t really work like that.
There's that old saying, "You’ve got to break a few eggs to make an omelet" (or is it a cake? Either way, the point stands). Creation is inherently messy. Progress is messy. Growth is messy. And that’s OK.
But I didn’t always believe that.
Growing up, I learned, mostly through what I internalized, that messiness brought frustration and tension. If things got chaotic, someone around me got upset. And over time, I started to associate messiness with danger, emotionally speaking. So I avoided it. I over-controlled. I tried to make everything look easy, polished, safe.
Now here I am, 52 years old, a single dad, still learning this lesson, still afraid of cracking the egg too hard.
But here’s the thing: I don’t want to keep playing it safe. I don’t want to stay stuck in the fear of making a mess, because that’s not where the good stuff happens. That’s not where the meaningful parts of life live.
So maybe this is a gentle nudge for you, too.
Where are you holding back because you're afraid to make a mess?
Where are you trying so hard to do it right that you're not doing it at all?
Maybe it's time to let go of the idea that things need to be perfect. Maybe it's time to crack the damn egg with confidence and let whatever spills, spill. Because mess or not, it’s still progress. And it just might be the start of something beautiful.
That's what I plan on taking in to 2026 with me. And I think it's going to be beautiful. How about you?
Happy New Year!
Love,
Zak