I have spent most of my life keeping everything tightly stitched. Every seam pressed, every edge finished, every loose thread snipped before anyone could see it. When a feeling showed up that I didn't know what to do with, I had a reliable move: build something, decide something, finish something. Control was the thread I pulled to hold the whole thing together.
For the past few months, it has started to come a little undone. Not all at once, and not entirely by choice. Something arrived that I couldn't build my way around and couldn't decide my way out of, and for the first time in years the fabric just loosened. I kept reaching for the needle. Re-stitch it, resolve it, get back to a version of myself that was neat. Instead I tried the thing I'm worst at: I let it stay unraveled long enough to actually look at it.
Here is what I learned about unraveling. The loose threads are not the problem. They are the map. When everything is held tight there is nothing to see and nothing to learn. It is only when the seams give that you find out what the thing was made of, and what needs mending underneath.
Who am I again? I am Brett Bejcek. I live by my top values of Exploration, Iteration, and Connection. Exploration is what I do; I do it through iteration; and I do it to create more connection. I am prioritizing physical health, building community, and cultivating creativity.
Fun Metrics. A peek into my life: some tied to goals, others just for fun. Because I’m not a business, I’m a silly human. And silly humans sometimes spend 30 minutes comparing pastries consumed instead of finishing their to-do list.
ㅤ | April 2026 | May 2026 | Change |
Avg workout min /day | 183 | 135 | - 26.2% |
Avg steps / day | 19,574 | 17,356 | - 50.0% |
Flights taken | 1 | 3 | + 200.0% |
Books read | 1 | 1 | +/- 0.0% |
Side projects shipped | 0 | 0 | +/- 0.0% |
Pastries consumed | 4 | 4 | +/- 0.0% |
Days journaled | 10 | 10 | +/- 0.0% |
Fun lil’ memories
Highlights of May:
- Being taken care of. I am being seen, and taken care of, in a way I'm not sure I've ever let happen before. It shows up in the small stuff. The way he doesn't rush me when I'm working out a thought, so I reach the end of it myself instead of him finishing it for me. The way time slows down when we're together, like the future stops tugging at my sleeve for a minute. The way I can be unfinished around him: I don't have to have the thought fully formed, the feeling fully named, the self fully assembled before I'm allowed in the room. It's moving fast. It also feels right. Both of those are true and both of them terrify me, because being held like this means I'm no longer the only one holding the thread. I used to think the scary version of love was losing it. Instead, the scary version is having it, and letting myself believe I get to keep it.
- Living my ideal day. When I turned 31, I wrote down what my ideal day would look like. I wake up naturally, sunlight through the window, next to someone who makes me feel safe. I ease into the morning. I move my body. I make something. I see friends. I learn something new. I dance. I go to bed excited for tomorrow. For a long time it read like a someday list, the kind of thing you earn after the next exit. This month I noticed I was just living it. Not because I hit a milestone that unlocked it, but because I stopped treating my life as something to deserve later and started living the one in front of me. The strangest part was how little it had to do with output. None of it shows up on a chart. All of it is the point.
- Making things that will never be a business. I made a lot this month that has no upside. I swapped stories with strangers. I repotted plants with a friend and got dirt under my nails. I sat while someone played me a song and didn't once think about how to productize the feeling. I'm picking the piano back up, badly, for no reason at all. For someone whose whole sense of self is wired to output, this is its own kind of growth. I spent years unable to answer a simple question: who is Brett when he isn't building a company? It turns out he's still a maker. He just makes things now because they're fun, not because they're proof. The work doesn't have to earn its keep to be worth doing.
Lowlights of May:
- The thread I didn't want to pull. When I finally had the good thing, a part of me went looking for the catch. I caught myself wanting to check, to keep tabs, to find the hidden flaw that would explain why this couldn't possibly be mine to keep. I've done this before. When I get close to someone, an old reflex wakes up: if I can't control whether I get hurt, I'll at least control the information, or I'll end the thing first so that the ending is mine. Underneath it is a belief I've carried a long time, that good things don't happen without a catch, so the smart move is to brace. The cruelty of that belief is that it makes you treat care like a threat. The growth this month was small and unglamorous: I noticed the reflex, and I didn't act on it. I didn't build a system around it. I didn't interrogate it into a verdict. I let the discomfort sit there, unstitched, and let it be uncomfortable. It didn't kill me. It loosened. That's the thing the unraveling showed me needs attention, and probably will for a while: learning to let myself be loved without auditing it for proof that I shouldn't.
How did I do on my goals last month?
May Goals
Stop | Start | Continue |
Traveling 🟡 | Stretching - (link to pre-workout stretches, because clearly the morning ritual is not working for you) 🟡 | Working out ✅ |
ㅤ | ㅤ | Investing in community ✅ |
ㅤ | ㅤ | Taking advantage of living in NYC (more shows + events) ✅ |
ㅤ | ㅤ | Rituals with friends ✅ |
ㅤ | ㅤ | Saturday work sessions 🟡 |
ㅤ | ㅤ | Building + shipping ❌ |
ㅤ | ㅤ | Cooking 🟡 |
What am I prioritizing for this month?
June Goals
Stop | Start | Continue |
Using my phone as a between-tasks reflex | Picking back up guitar | Working out |
ㅤ | Hosting more rooftop hangs | Investing in community |
ㅤ | ㅤ | Taking advantage of living in NYC (more shows + events) |
ㅤ | ㅤ | Rituals with friends |
ㅤ | ㅤ | Saturday work sessions |
ㅤ | ㅤ | Building + shipping |
ㅤ | ㅤ | Cooking |
ㅤ | ㅤ | Stretching pre-workout |
So what do I take from a month with nothing shipped and everything unstitched? Two things.
One: there are two kinds of building in me, and I've been confusing them. There's building things, which the world can see and a spreadsheet can count. And there's building myself, which nothing can measure and which turns out to be the one that compounds. This month I did almost none of the first and more of the second than I have in years. The metrics call that a loss. I'm learning to call it an investment.
Two: I have a tell. When I can't control an outcome, I reach for the off switch, the move that lets me feel in charge again: end it, optimize it, ship my way past it. The practice I'm taking forward is catching the reach, and saying the two words that got me through the whole month: “not yet.”
I'll be honest about one thing, because the honest thing is the whole point of these letters. I'm not sure the spark is fully back. When I sit down to build, I still feel a little resistance, a little drag. The old me would have read that as a verdict and forced through it. I'm trying to read it as information instead. Not yet is not the same as not ever. When I build again, and I will, I want it to be because I love the craft, not because I'm afraid of who I am without it.
That, more than anything I could have shipped, is what this month was for.
With love,
Brett Bejcek
On the first of every month I do a little self-audit and put it out into the world. Why? Accountability, reflection, and because life’s more fun when you share the messy middle.