(I tell this story with a fun video over my new YouTube channel, let me know what you think! The essay continues below)

The year was 2015.

It was the opening ceremony of Camp Nerd Fitness, where hundreds of introverted nerds had gathered for an adult “summer camp” weekend.

The weather forecast for the week wasn’t looking great.

Like, maybe ruin-the-event levels of “not great.”

I stood on stage, gazing out into a crowd full of anxious and unsure nerds from all over the world, and I said something that caught everybody off guard:

“Great news! 

Something is going to go wrong this week. The weather is going to stink. A class you show up for will be full. Things will NOT go according to plan.

This is to learn how to process disappointment and unexpected setbacks! I need you all to stand up and say this with me: 

It’s all for fun, and it’ll be okay.’”

I could see the relief in people’s eyes and they gave themselves permission to fail and for things to go wrong and embrace the fact that even when things weren’t “okay,” they’d be okay.

Little did I know how much this saying would come in and out of my life over the next decade… 

It’s all for fun…

As expected, the weather that weekend at Camp NF stunk.

But everybody remained in positive spirits. Even on our final day, we got absolutely dumped on. We had to move all activities inside, we still had fun. I decided to set up an easel and spent hours drawing comically bad caricatures of each camper. 

Later that night, we got word that we might lose power, and every camper might need to sleep on the floor of the designated “disaster zone” location – the cafeteria.

Not gonna lie: at this point I started to panic.

I had prepared for “bad weather,” but I was worried about all these nerds who had paid for an epic weekend, and how their trip could end on a really negative note.

Then, campers came up to ME and Team NF and said, “Don’t worry, Steve! It’s all for fun and it’ll be okay.”

And they were right. 

Even when things weren’t okay, they were okay. We spent the next few hours dancing our asses off, and eventually the campers returned safely to their cabins.

Years later, “It’s all for fun, and it will be okay” made its way onto a Camp NF coffee mug.

Every time I used it, I thought of that week and that weather and the camper’s response to adversity:

And that was great!

And things were okay…for a while.

And then things were NOT okay

After a rollercoaster 2024 and a rough start to 2025…

I had a day where things were not okay.

I was struggling and overwhelmed.

The major project I was working on wasn’t clicking. 

I felt anxious about the future, and insecure about my career.

Wanting to jump out of my skin, I accepted I wasn’t being productive with my thoughts and walked home in the rain (because of course it was raining).

I went to open the gate to my yard, and the gate caught on my backtrack strap. My arm slipped. 

And I dropped my Camp NF coffee mug onto the concrete.

Like something out of a movie, it cracked imperfectly in half, directly through “it’s all for fun and it will be okay.”

My response? 

Laughter. 

The universe was saying “I don’t know how to make it any clearer that things are NOT okay.” Which is actually kind of funny.

My mug cracking in half felt like the perfect visual representation of how my life felt in that moment. 

Cracked in half. Broken. Ineffective. Not useful.

I know that wasn’t true though.

For starters, I knew the voice saying these things wasn’t speaking the truth.  I have worked hard to be kinder to myself. Maybe more importantly, I know that broken things can be beautiful too.

In fact, sometimes a broken thing can be made more valuable by highlighting its flaws and cracks instead of hiding them.

Making Flaws Beautiful

I’ve spent the past few years learning about acceptance and embracing a Wabi-sabi philosophy.

Specifically, appreciating the beauty that life is imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete.

And the most beautiful personification of this philosophy is called Kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery in a way highlights a piece of pottery’s cracks with a gold or silver lacquer. 

It often makes the pottery more valuable.

Inspired by all of this work on appreciating imperfection, I decided to embark on a little art project.

(Again, I show the construction in my new video which you should check out!)

STEP #1: I bought a kintsugi kit, and fixed my mug:

(I used too much glue, but that’s okay. This imperfection will forever remind me: “I wasn’t afraid to try.”)

STEP #2: I bought a diamond drill tip, borrowed a friend’s drill, and drilled two small holes in the bottom of the mug, without breaking it further:

STEP #3: I drove to Creekside Bonsai in Nashville, and bought a starter bonsai tree, a ficus. And then planted that sucker in my mug:

When I asked the owner how he got into bonsai, he gave me a response that was the same reason I’ve had for about 35 years:

“It started back in the 80s with Karate Kid.”

Me too, man. Me too. 

Find hope wherever you can

Not to brag, but it’s been over a week now and my tree is still alive.

Each morning, as I make my coffee in my kitchen, I see my little tree in a cracked mug, it brings me joy.

And if I’m being honest, my little tree gives me a bit of hope too (my favorite emotion).

I feel like a lot of people could use some hope these days. The days are getting shorter (here in the northern hemisphere). The weather is turning. And, just… *gestures wildly in all directions.*

But this plant in my mug tells a different story:

• Beautiful things can grow out of something broken.
• Broken doesn’t mean useless. It just might need a different use.
• Flaws and cracks show a life has been lived and things happen.

Maybe most importantly, this mug felt like a tiny defiant act of being an actual, imperfect human and doing something real.

This little art project was something in the real world I made with my own two hands, and damn that felt good.

• I drilled holes.
• I fixed my mug with gold-infused glue.
• I went to a store and bought a ficus in person.
• I chatted with the owner (thanks John) and learned the story behind his store.
• I see my little tree every single day and will forever be reminded that beauty and hope can emerge from something broken. 

I got to write this essay with my brain and my hands, and also record a video before I feel ready to make videos.

I made something without knowing how it’ll turn out, and that’s half the fun.

It’s all a good reminder that even when things aren’t okay, and not fun…

It’s all for fun and it will be okay.

Thanks for reading my story.

-Steve

PS: I’m going to be experimenting with video over my new youtube channel, like this video. Feel free to subscribe and leave a comment on the video for this post.

I’m going to start by making videos that make me happy, and we’ll figure out the rest from there.

PPS: if you enjoyed this essay, I’d be honored if you shared it with somebody else who might want to read it.