Über Kaishindo
A platform for wellness, performance, and nutrition.
I've generally been a positive, go-getter in life. But one day, I hit a wall.
Some may call it a midlife crisis. I call it what I believe it was—depression.
It was something I'd never experienced before. Of course, I'd experienced sadness. We all have. But this was different. This wasn't an emotion that came and went. It was a prolonged state of mind that seemed to follow me everywhere.
Logically, I could come up with reasons why I might be feeling this way, so I did what I've always done when faced with a problem: I tried to fix it. Be Mr. Fix-It. Identify the problem, come up with a solution, and get to work.
That approach worked—until the irrational side of my brain woke up like a demon from another world.
The best way I can describe it is like an inexperienced surfer being thrown from his board by a wave far greater than his ability, only to be held under by the next wave, and then the next. You know the surface is up there. You know there's air. But you're tumbling around underneath the water, desperately trying to figure out which direction is up.
I was no match for it.
I had lost my joy. And perhaps the most confusing part was that I knew I had reasons to be happy. I had a good family. I had a life in front of me. Knowing those things didn't magically change how I felt.
Then, for whatever reason, one day I laced up my running shoes.
And I ran.
Not like I had a decade earlier. Not particularly fast or far. Just enough to get my heart racing.
One step at a time. One breath at a time.
And something started to change.
I didn't instantly get better that day. There wasn't some movie moment where everything suddenly made sense. But I felt something I hadn't felt in a while.
**Relief.**
So I ran again.
What I didn't know at the time was that I had begun practicing what I would eventually call **Kaishindo**—changing the heart and mind to become better.
That's where Kaishindo was born.
Not necessarily the philosophy itself, but **my adventure with it**.
Now I want to see where that adventure leads.
I want to explore what happens when we deliberately work to become better—mentally, physically, and nutritionally. I want to learn about the science behind it. I want to test ideas on myself. I want to train, experiment, fail, adjust, and share what I learn along the way.
And if something I discover during my own journey helps someone else take their first step, even better.
I don't believe any of us ever really arrive at some final, perfect version of ourselves.
**We can all be better. We just have to make the conscious choice to begin.**
Some may call it a midlife crisis. I call it what I believe it was—depression.
It was something I'd never experienced before. Of course, I'd experienced sadness. We all have. But this was different. This wasn't an emotion that came and went. It was a prolonged state of mind that seemed to follow me everywhere.
Logically, I could come up with reasons why I might be feeling this way, so I did what I've always done when faced with a problem: I tried to fix it. Be Mr. Fix-It. Identify the problem, come up with a solution, and get to work.
That approach worked—until the irrational side of my brain woke up like a demon from another world.
The best way I can describe it is like an inexperienced surfer being thrown from his board by a wave far greater than his ability, only to be held under by the next wave, and then the next. You know the surface is up there. You know there's air. But you're tumbling around underneath the water, desperately trying to figure out which direction is up.
I was no match for it.
I had lost my joy. And perhaps the most confusing part was that I knew I had reasons to be happy. I had a good family. I had a life in front of me. Knowing those things didn't magically change how I felt.
Then, for whatever reason, one day I laced up my running shoes.
And I ran.
Not like I had a decade earlier. Not particularly fast or far. Just enough to get my heart racing.
One step at a time. One breath at a time.
And something started to change.
I didn't instantly get better that day. There wasn't some movie moment where everything suddenly made sense. But I felt something I hadn't felt in a while.
**Relief.**
So I ran again.
What I didn't know at the time was that I had begun practicing what I would eventually call **Kaishindo**—changing the heart and mind to become better.
That's where Kaishindo was born.
Not necessarily the philosophy itself, but **my adventure with it**.
Now I want to see where that adventure leads.
I want to explore what happens when we deliberately work to become better—mentally, physically, and nutritionally. I want to learn about the science behind it. I want to test ideas on myself. I want to train, experiment, fail, adjust, and share what I learn along the way.
And if something I discover during my own journey helps someone else take their first step, even better.
I don't believe any of us ever really arrive at some final, perfect version of ourselves.
**We can all be better. We just have to make the conscious choice to begin.**
Neueste Supporter

