Last week, my 16-year-old daughter almost retired from driving forever because of a duck.

Just a regular neighborhood duck with absolutely no urgency whatsoever.

Picture this:

She’s driving us home.

New driver energy.
Both hands gripping the steering wheel until sweat beads are almost dripping down her arms.
Sitting tall.
Eyes focused.
Trying SO hard to do everything right.

The problem?

The roads right now feel like everyone collectively decided we’re filming Fast & Furious: Costco Parking Lot Edition.

People are flying through red lights.
Cutting each other off.
Tailgating like they’re being timed professionally.
Everyone in a rush to get absolutely nowhere FASTER.

So we pull up to a merge.

And because she is a BEGINNER HUMAN DRIVER PERSON… she takes an extra second.

A single extra second.

Apparently this was deeply upsetting to the two punks behind us in a white 2007 lawnmower with headlights Toyota Corolla.

They lay on the horn.

Immediately, the entire energy in the car changes.

You could physically feel her confidence leave her body.

She gets flustered.
Starts apologizing.
Starts second-guessing herself.
Then starts speeding up because suddenly she feels pressure to drive like she’s qualifying for NASCAR.

And I’m calmly trying to say things like:

“You’re okay.”
“Take your time.”
“Don’t let them rush you.”

(While internally I’m imagining pushing my thumbs into their eyeballs politely asking them to slow down)

Then — and I swear this happened exactly when the universe knew the lesson needed dramatic flair — a duck flies out of nowhere and lands in the middle of the road and waddles around.

Not runs.

Waddles. (ducks don't rush like the rest of the world apparently)

So naturally she hits the brakes because unlike the impatient teens behind us, she’s not willing to commit vehicular duckslaughter.

The boys?
Absolutely HORRIFIED by this inconvenience.

More honking.
More rage.

Meanwhile the duck is still crossing like:
​“Thank you for not mowing me over.”

My 'Duck' is a little rusty but I think that's what he said.

By the time we turned onto our street, they blasted past us laying on the horn dramatically like their entire future was ruined.

And my kid?

She was DONE.

She wanted out of the car.
Out of driving.
Out of society probably.

And it hit me.

This will almost definitely be a newsletter story but ALSO -

This is exactly what happens when we try to start anything new.

Walking consistently.
Eating better.
Going to the gym.
Cooking at home.
Recording your first audio walk while strangers can hear you breathing uphill like you have a persistent lung infection.

We want to feel confident immediately.

We want to merge perfectly.
​Never hesitate.​
Never get flustered.
​Never look awkward.​
Never breathe too hard.
​Never do it “wrong.”

But beginners are awkward.

Beginners hesitate.

Beginners overthink merges and accidentally panic-speed because someone metaphorically honked at them.

And somewhere along the course of our lives, we stopped allowing ourselves to be new at things.

Which is wild… because literally every single person who is good at something once looked deeply unimpressive doing it.

Including me recording my very first Walk With Me audio this week.

You can hear my footsteps.
People passing by.
Me randomly saying hi mid-sentence.
Me breathing heavier going uphill.
At one point I fully sound like I’m negotiating with my lungs.

And for a split second, I almost didn’t share it because I thought:

“What if it’s not polished enough?” And "Is that what my voice really sounds like? Ew!"

But that’s the whole point.

Real life isn’t polished.

Real change usually starts messy.

And the people who actually start feeling better?
They aren’t the people doing everything perfectly.

They’re the people willing to be beginners long enough to build something real.

Which brings me to this week’s (and the first) Walk With Me audio.

I'm talking about that brutal mid-afternoon crash.
​The 2:37 PM “I could lie down on this floor immediately” feeling.

The foggy brain.
The energy dip.
The reaching-for-anything feeling.

And more importantly: the small, realistic shifts that actually help.

Not a life overhaul.
Not perfection.

Just simple things that work in real life.

If you want to come walk with me, I’d love that! ❤️

(And yes, there will be background noise, you will hear my footsteps crunching on the gravel and my heavy breathing on hills.)

​Come for a walk with me and have a listen.​

Nat - no ducks were injured in this recording

P.S. - If you’ve been waiting to feel “ready” before starting something… this is your sign to stop waiting. Beginners are allowed here.

Please share with anyone who needs to hear this message today!