Back from being down.

I’ve been out of touch for a little while now, and I wanted to be upfront about why. The truth is, I got rattled, way more than I expected to be.

A few weeks ago, I was delivering an Amazon package late at night. It was after 8 PM, and I was driving out in a rural area. Dark roads, a house set back from the street, not exactly the friendliest setup for a surprise visitor. When I stepped onto the porch to deliver the package, I was greeted by something no one ever wants to see.

The owner stood on his porch, gun in hand.

Thankfully, once I announced the delivery and he saw my Amazon jacket, he put the gun away. But the reality is, I was so lucky that he didn’t jump to conclusions. One wrong move, one panicked decision, and that moment could have ended very differently. I’ll also add that in rural South Carolina, I’m fortunate I (As a white male) was the one to get that delivery. I hate to speak on anyone’s motivations or predisposed prejudice’s, but sadly stats don’t lie when it comes to incidental homicides linked to the color of one’s skin. I wish we were in a more caring world where that weren’t the case, but I know we do and it might have saved me that night.

It shook me up more than I realized at first. I kept making excuses to spend more time at home, putting off going back to work — and while spending more time with my family isn’t something I regret, I knew deep down I wasn’t just taking a break. I was avoiding it. Avoiding the anxiety that had crept in and the fear that something like that could happen again. I could be one stop, or ride away from that final moment. Not getting a chance to say goodbye to my wife or kids. So much left to do and work towards.

And that’s what scared me most.

Before I left that evening, I had kissed my boys on the head, hugged them, and told them I loved them. That could have been the last time they ever saw their dad. All because I was out hustling in gig work, trying to provide for them, and someone assumed I was a threat. That’s what’s been lingering in my head ever since.

I didn’t expect it to hit me this hard. I’ve traveled internationally and been in some sketchy situations before, but this? This was different. Those situations happened around me and I could remove myself if it got too crazy. This was personal. Literally in my face. A moment pausing my silly podcast about food, and the next fearful. It’s insane that kind of power is vested in everyday people. This man seemed trained somewhat though, his finger wasn’t on the trigger, and he was aiming low. So at least I have those comforts. Just would have been a leg wound…

I don’t want this post to turn into a debate about guns or safety — that’s not my point. The man who met me with a gun wasn’t acting out of hate or aggression; he was scared too. It was dark, his house was secluded, and he didn’t know who was on his property. But the reality is that some people wouldn’t have had the same restraint. Some people might have fired first, and that’s terrifying.

Life can be so fleeting. And moments like this remind me how easily everything we love can be taken away.

But here’s the part that I don’t want to forget: that reminder, the weight of that moment, is exactly why I want to start posting again.

I don’t just want to coast through life anxiously waiting for the next bad thing to happen. I want to focus on the moments that make life meaningful, the time spent with my kids, the silly things that happen on gig jobs, my garden, and the small joys that come with sharing my thoughts here with you.

I’m hoping that writing more often, sharing these moments, both the good and the hard, will help me process all of this. I want to be more present, more engaged, and more intentional about finding those happy moments.

I want to be a glimmer of something good, something hopeful, in what’s often felt like a dark time in a lot of people’s lives.

And right now, that’s enough for me.

I hope to talk to you all again real soon.

One post at a time,
K