The Sandlot

It's all about good relationships with good people.

“About time, Benny. My clothes are going out of style.”

If you don’t know that quote, stop what you’re doing and watch the classic 90’s movie, The Sandlot.

I grew up in the Sandlot generation, more specifically, the Mormon Sandlot generation.

Every day after school, I’d hop on my bike, cruise until I found my friends’ bikes scattered in someone’s front yard, and we’d play basketball, baseball, or football until the sun went down.

Repeat for 365.

I don’t remember the last Sandlot moment.
The last time we laughed so hard our stomachs hurt.
The last game-winning touchdown.

One day we all walked off the Sandlot for the last time, and none of us knew it.

Life has a way of passing us by as we dwell in the past or ruminate on the future.
And the price? It costs us the present moment.

---

I used to think I had life all figured out.

Check. Check. Check.

I was a professional box checker.

Check. Check. Check.

I could feel the satisfaction of the next box being checked.

My life was outlined perfectly.

It was comfortable.
And miserable.

---

Growing up, my mom filled our house with quotes.

They were everywhere.

Hanging from the ceiling like mobiles. Strung across doorways. Taped to the fridge.

It felt like Buddy the Elf had been hired to prep our home for Jesus’s second coming.

At the time, it drove me nuts.
But I developed a love for quotes.
Thank you mom!

“Nothing changes if nothing changes.” -Robin Sharma

And the best moments of my life?
They’ve come when I made decisions no one else understood.

Decisions that were Safe, Connecting, and Aligned with my values.

It’s empowering.
And disorienting.

People who once respected me… treat me like I’m dead or less than.
Others see me as “difficult” because I stopped tolerating fake interest, fake relationships, and fake conversations.

It’s surreal.

You’re in a conversation and suddenly realize:
You don’t actually care about me.
You’re trying to fix me or shut down to avoid an emotional experience.

Then the thought hits:
Maybe life is just this. Maybe I’m an ant building a colony and I don’t even know it.

---

Here’s the messed-up part:

I feel anxious even writing this.

I can already hear my mom’s voice in my head, blaming herself for me writing these words and expecting me to manage her emotions.

That. Is. Exhausting.

---

So let me say this clearly:

Dear Mom (and anyone else who’s part of my story),

This isn’t about you.

We can both look at the same mountain range and describe it differently.

This is just my perspective.

You’re enough. I love you. You matter.

And in the words of Glennon Doyle:
“I will not stay, not ever again, in a room, conversation, or relationship that requires me to abandon myself.”

---

I believe in vulnerability.

If that makes you uncomfortable, if you’re not ready to face the hard truths about yourself, this post isn’t for you.

The truth?

I’ve spent most of my life believing I wasn’t enough.

I thought if I played hard enough, dated the right people, made enough money, or moved 100 mph through life, I could outrun the feeling.

As George Costanza said in Seinfeld:
“It’s not you, it’s me.”

Or maybe Taylor Swift said it better:
“Hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.”

Sometimes I am the problem.

There are plenty of moments in my life where I wasn’t exactly the most lovable teddy bear in the room.

But here’s the thing: once I accepted that I’m both the problem and the solution, everything changed.

---

When you stop proving you’re “enough” for everyone else…
When you stop withdrawing from exhaustion…

You finally land in the present.

You realize: I can give myself the hug I never got when I needed it most.

And that’s where life gets interesting.

---

The moments you find clarity?
They’re also the moments chaos shows up.

"Why would you do that?"
"Don’t you see the risk?"

Disapproval from others might mean you’re finally living life on your terms.

Zero resistance from others? That might mean you’re living someone else’s dream.
Back to checking the boxes.

Check. Check. Check.

---

We are in an epidemic of loneliness.

We are in most “connected” and technological advanced time in the world, yet we are more personally and interpersonally disconnected and less present.

It is costing us the very life we are living.

Here’s what I know:

You. Fucking. Matter. (YFM)

And one person can’t be everything.

Not your spouse.
Not your best friend.
Not your therapist or mentor.

We’re wired for connection, plural.
Let’s keep it simple. Good relationships with good people.

The kind that make you feel safe enough to stop performing and start living.

We spend our childhoods focusing on growing up. Perhaps part of adulthood is relearning how to play. Adults need playtime too.

So find your people.

Assure safety. Create connection. Live in alignment with your values.

Feel deeply.

And go play ball until the sun goes down.

Kindly,

Kyle