WELL& JOURNAL

BY WALLACE CALEB BATES Some days, the stories flow. Other days, they sit somewhere between my mind and my heart, waiting for the right moment to rise. This is one of those “other” days. I do not have much to say right now, not because I do not care, not because nothing is happening, but because I want to do justice to the unfolding words.  The writing will come soon. I can feel it building. In the meantime, thank you for sticking around, reading, and waiting with me. More is coming soon.

 BY WALLACE CALEB BATES When I was younger, I thought adulthood would be all about freedom. And in many ways, it is. There is something powerful about having self-autonomy, about making your own choices and carving your path. But what I did not expect was the pressure we place on ourselves to finish the degree, excel at work, and show up strong every single day. Sometimes, that weight is heavy, even when we love the work we are doing. Today, I rode with the windows down and the sunroof open, letting the breeze roll through like a reminder. I read a few pages of my latest book, napped, and rested, and it hit me again that we have to find time for both. We must pursue excellence, take care of business, and enjoy the freedom we once imagined. We have to live, we have to breathe, and we must remember that life is not only about the to-do list. Work hard, be proud, but remember to live while you are at it.

BY WALLACE CALEB BATES There is a special kind of joy that comes from simply being with people you love, with no big agenda. No performance. Just shared stories, honest laughter, and the comfort of knowing you are fully known and still fully welcomed. These are the moments that steady us. The ones that remind us what matters most. It is not always about the place or the plan.  Sometimes, it is just about the people — and the peace that comes when you can truly exhale in their presence. I do not take that for granted. Not one bit.

BY WALLACE CALEB BATES Today, I learned that the sand along much of the southern East Coast, from the Carolinas all the way down to Florida, actually came from the Appalachian Mountains. Over millions of years, it eroded, flowed downriver, and settled quietly into the coastlines. And I had to laugh, because of course it did. Of course the mountains gave us that, too. It is just one more example of how Appalachia, this place that so many people overlook, has quietly built the very bones of this country. Our coal fueled cities, our timber raised homes, and our music shaped the soul of this nation. It makes me think about how God works. Slow. Intentional. Unseen, most of the time. The rivers never stop moving. The land keeps giving. And whether people recognize the source or not, they are still standing on it. Benefiting from it. Resting in it.