TL;DR: A week of caregiving, coaching, and slowing down. Time offering care; asking bigger questions. I’m noticing what it means to give without taking over, to work without rushing, and to hold uncertainty without needing to solve it. Even when the path isn’t clear, I’m not walking it alone.

TSN 26.6: "On Asking for Help”

8 February 2026

Hello

This week moved across a lot of ground.

On Monday, I drove 403 miles. I re-listened to "Together" by Vivek Murthy and kept thinking about a word people associate with me: "Connection."

I notice more and more that I'm questioning it. Not as an outcome... I KNOW we need it. What I'm wondering about are the steps to GET the outcome.

I feel that what I am getting now has more structure and weight than simply putting people in the same room and hoping something happens. This is what I was talkin' about at the TEDx a couple years ago. (Link here...)

The drive gave me time. Not just to think, but to practice pausing.

On Tuesday, I spent time with my dad and stepmom. They are there for me. Plainly. Steadily. Seeing how much is happening in our personal lives, and still feeling held by that kind of togetherness, landed in my soul more than my mind.

Later, I drove to my sister’s house to begin giving care for my mom. I'm being careful with the word "caregiving." I do not take care. I offer it.

Wednesday reminded me how much a team carries. I’m writing an update on our GoFundMe page for the more than 200 people who have rallied to support my mom and sister.

Thankful, grateful, and in awe are words we use often.

My sister is organizing an extraordinary circle of care. During the recovery process, we believe there is a runway for our mom. Coming back after a stroke, sepsis, and prolonged down time is not theoretical.

It is real, uneven, and demanding. The people who have reached out continue to show up in ways that are seen and felt.

I was the primary caregiver for JUST a couple of days. What my sister has been doing for nearly seven months, I will do a few days each month. These are moments I know I'll remember and cherish...forever.

Saturday, I ran and rode Peloton.

Both a bit slower. Both on purpose. I noticed again how grounding it is to have a plan and to work the schedule. Not controlling everything. Just drawing a line between what I want to move toward and what I can do today.

I noticed myself moving slowly and asking bigger questions.

What do I want?

Who am I?

What can I do?

What can ONLY I do?

I am taking on less while finding ways to do right by not doing it alone.

What I am carrying is work. Not as an obligation, but as a relationship. The feeling that my work and I need each other. We could do without one another. I would not want to. Alongside that is an old question that keeps returning.

Am I doing enough?

I experienced care in both directions. I showed up not just as a caregiver, but as a partner to my sister and my mom. Advocacy showed up in the eyes, ears, hands, heart, and mind of the person who needed it.

Care also came toward me.

From my boss. From friends. From my own coaches.

I continue to sit with how much context matters when I share updates about my mom. Her recovery. My sister’s sustained effort. The reality she entered this chapter with was that she had very few resources, lived in low-income housing, lived on Social Security, and relied on her church's faith as she aged.

As I write this, steady is my respect for the human mind and body; what focus can do; what sustained attention can change. The work of health and wellness does not end at any chapter.

We turn the page and keep reading.

I am standing in appreciation for the community. For how recovery, health, and wellness are shared. Even when the path is unclear, I know I am not walking it alone.

How are you?

Much love from Northern California…

JW

PS: Recently, a group asked me to talk about what I’ve learned through this process of caregiving and holding recovery in mind… so, I gave that speech AND I wrote an article.

If you wanna read it, here’s the link to, “Ask Early. Ask Often.”