How Personal Growth Stories Inspire Us to Be Present & Mindful

My grandfather, Julio Cesar Cardona Sr., was a strong and introspective man…

who taught me lessons about resilience and mindfulness in everyday life. He was also hard on his children. By the time I came along, he was still stern. He left for work early, came home to his room, joined dinner only to speak when necessary, and then retreated upstairs (google “lessons from family trauma”).

At four years old, I was convinced he was in his room being a vampire. Then he had a stroke. Something shifted. He cracked jokes. He spent more time with family. He laughed occasionally and lingered longer at the table. His story reminds me every day of why being present and mindful matters.

It was after he passed that I decided to let my hair grow as a way to honor him. I miss our talks.

Life is so Precious

My mother is a charming, independent, brilliant woman…

who embodies personal growth stories and courage. She escaped an abusive home as a teenager and carved her own path, raising her siblings, buying a house, and building her own business. Her journey is one of the most inspiring family stories about resilience I’ve ever known. Years later her husband, my bonus father, faced a serious health scare. At the most frightening moment this do-it-herself woman told my sister “I don’t know what I would do without him.” That moment taught me about appreciating life’s fragility and about how to live fully every day.

Life is so Precious.

My biological father is a headstrong man and one of the most reliable hard workers I know…

who once managed a nightclub in Florida. One night a man was stabbed. My father held him, trying to stop the bleeding, but the man died in his arms. When he told me the next day his eyes carried a grief I had never seen before.

Life is so Precious.

So why do we wait to wake up?

Why does it take a stroke, a stabbing, or a sudden loss to feel alive and connected? Why do we need natural disasters or celebrity deaths to remind us to hug harder, laugh louder, and truly notice the little moments?

Traffic feels selfish until the ambulance siren wails and suddenly everyone cooperates to make room.

The next person who enters the room carries an entire lifetime of experiences. Can we pause and notice them? Not judge, fix, or compare. Just appreciate the miracle of their being and the beauty of life’s fragility.

We are all like that image above, an egg holding up books. Both delicate and strong at the same time.

Whether each moment cracks or holds steady, life is precious.

I Paid for Belonging in Bruises.

A lesson in growth, mindset, and the quiet clarity of mindfulness.

For most of my life, I paid the price of belonging in bruises—emotional, spiritual, and sometimes physical. I didn’t know I was chasing something I already had. I spent 30 years seeking insight out there in the world.

There were clues. My mom used to sing a lyric from Frankie Beverly & Maze:

“If you get confused, don’t you go nowhere else. You’re gonna find all that you need, right there in yourself.”

But like many of us, I missed the clue. I joined every “tribe” I could find and tried on every mask:
• Floridian
• Spanish
• Black
• Mixed
• Skateboarder
• Gangbanger
• Musician
• Drinker
• Angeleno
• Atheist
• Actor
• Buddhist
• Boyfriend (times 100)
• [Insert next persona here]

Funny thing — the word persona is Latin for “mask.”
And “clue”? That word traces back to clew, a Greek word for “thread.”

But I didn’t tug at the thread.
Until I was forced to sit still.

After an incident left me unable to walk, I couldn’t perform any of the roles. I couldn’t chase anything. I was stuck. Pinocchio in the belly of the whale.

That’s when I found meditation. That’s when I stopped searching outside and turned inward.

Suddenly, the masks began to loosen.
I started to notice the stories in my mind — how they looped and lied, how they controlled me.

And with that awareness … came space.

Space between me and shame.
Space between me and fear.
Space between me and who I thought I had to be.

That’s what mindfulness gave me:
The clarity to realize that insight was never “out there.” It was inside. Always had been.

Here’s a wild fact:
In a world where we can Zoom anyone, stream anything, and get same-day delivery…
Only 47% of Americans say they’re “very satisfied” with their personal lives.

Why?
Because satisfaction doesn’t come from optimization.
It comes from observation.
It comes from looking inward.

So I started sitting with my anger — and found fear underneath.
Then I sat with the fear — and found curiosity.
That curiosity changed everything.

Suddenly, the world wasn’t a threat.
It was a playground.
I wasn’t sinking — I was surfing.
I wasn’t lost — I was listening.

One day in the park, I heard that song again:

“You’re gonna find all that you need, right there in yourself.”

That lyric used to sound like comfort. Now it sounds like a mission.

Who am I now? I am peaceful.

So here’s the challenge I’ll leave with you:
You’re standing on the whale, fishing for minnows.
Your angers? Trace them back to fears.
Your fears? Trace them back to questions.
Then use those questions to start growing.

“There is grandeur in this view of life.” — Charles Darwin
“When we stop, things don’t go right.” — Pope Francis
“Each of us has that right, that possibility, to invent ourselves daily.” — Maya Angelou

This is Growth Mindset.
This is Mindfulness.
This is Growth Mindfulness.

This is you, tugging the thread.

Life Hack: Vulnerability

My eyes watered as I got in my car…

… then I exhaled.

I recently gave a talk on the topic of “Inclusion”. As a non-dualist, to me all things are ultimately one, even what seems opposite of each other, so I started by talking about “division”.

How?

With the picture above. Me, about 3 years old. Born to a Black, Floridian, Democrat Mother and a Spanish, New Yorker, Republican Father division lives within my DNA. In addition, I have no memory of them getting along.

For the first time, I stood in front of strangers and publicly told the story of never feeling like I fit in. Being told I “talk white” from my extended family on my Black side. Having my nose squeezed by a family member on my Spanish side because it was “too flat and round”. And then going into the world and being mocked because they didn’t know “what I was”. Except to the police, by the time I was a teen, I was just Black to them.

Somewhere during the talk my typical excitement of doing my job turned into feelings of somber. Seeing the audiences faces as I told story after story reminded me to hear it from the outside. To imagine how I’d feel if I heard a toddler was being treated like that.

My talk ends on inclusion being the breath of division. When we see our differences as a beautiful part of nature, division becomes dynamism.

After that, while talking with some of the attendees, a man walked up to me. He was tall, middle aged, and had a natural build that looked like he could flip a car if he wanted. Then, he shook my hand I noticed such kind and gentle eyes, he spoke lightly but with intention and thoughtfulness and said “I am so moved by your talk, this is one of the best talks I’ve ever heard.”

I had been standing there, raw in emotion, a bit insecure about if my talk was “okay”, only to be rocked with such a compliment. My goodness I was moved! But what really came in like a gust of wind was that my vulnerability showed and that was what resonated.

My story is tough, for sure. But if I told it through the lens of anger, or championing my past with my fists at my hips and chest out, or from a revolutionary “lets fight back” standpoint, it wouldn’t have landed. I affected someone because I was honest at how I was affected. In these very divisive times everyone is wanting to be in control, wanting to be strong, wanting to be right…I want to be real.

And you should too. You’ve known at least one person who held their struggles in and you probably saw what that did to them. Give yourself permission for vulnerability. If hurt people hurt people, then healed people heal people.

If that man ever reads this, thank you for taking 10 seconds of your life to change the entirety of my life. I was overwhelmed with honor, but maintained cordial conversations until I said goodbye to everyone. As I was walking in the parking lot, I was overcome with joy. My eyes watered as I got in my car… then I exhaled.

C.