How struggle, not ease, fuels my soul.
The morning begins slowly, everything waiting for its cue.
Button for coffee, knob for tea.
A small hymn of burble and steam.
Coffee for me.
Green tea for Lindsey.
Two cups, one table, one day unfolding.
We sit at o-dark-thirty with our warm vessels,
reviewing yesterday in case something true
slipped through the tired talk of dinner.
Then we look toward what is to come:
What do You have in store for us today, Lord?
How would You like us to participate?
Give us eyes to see, ears to hear,
and the courage to engage in Your plan.
This is the first energy.
When the children rise early, they sit with us,
waking slowly in the same quiet.
If not, we rouse them to their routines—
dress, eat, brush, make the bed—
while Lindsey shepherds and I pack lunches.
As the house gathers itself for the day,
the grown-ups turn toward our own work:
shower, dress, prepare.
From the warmth of coffee and prayer,
I turn to the shock that wakes me: the cold shower.
The promise to myself is kept: go cold.
Here the voices arrive:
Gary Brecka warning that the quickest way to decay
is the aggressive pursuit of comfort.
Then his command,
sharp as ice water: Just deal with it.
Andrew Huberman reminding me
that willpower is like a muscle.
It only grows
when you do the thing you’d rather avoid.
My mentor asking his three questions:
How cold?
How long?
How fully?
The first time I tried it—
a scream,
a rush of feet in the hallway,
my family sure something had broken.
But it was only the cold,
breaking into me.
Now I step in quieter,
but the vow remains:
turn the handle,
step in,
endure.
The quiet space where soul and horizon meet.
Why do I do this?
Because I do not want to.
Because struggle itself is the point.
Because energy is found not only in ease,
but in the shock that clears the eyes,
the gasp that fills the lungs,
the wakefulness of spirit that steadies the soul.
Hot coffee.
Cold water.
Quiet prayer.
Three strands braided into one vow, renewed daily:
to live from the inside out,
to be more present,
to be more alive.
Imagine…
What one small struggle could you choose today—
not for punishment,
but for presence,
for life,
for soul?
Tags: #dailyprompt #spiritualpractice #energy #ritual #insideoutliving #faithandlife #discipline #prayerandpresence #coldshowerchallenge #formednotfaded
Forming 2.0 
I really connected with this because the cold, the struggle, is something I wrestle with too. I often find myself resisting it, but your words reminded me that struggle itself can wake us, sharpen us, and make us more present. Reading this felt like both a challenge and an encouragement.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dean, you’re making me pause. I have to digest this slowly. Thankyou for another perspective.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I too take cold showers for much the same reason — to remind myself to step out of comfort and into growth. At first, I resisted, even dreaded those icy moments, but now I welcome them as little awakenings, proof that so much is in the mind. What once shocked my senses now reminds me that perspective is everything — even in what I dislike, I can choose to see differently. You, Dean, are a stoic at heart 🤓 and I adore this message. Bravissimo, maestro of words! I would have read and responded sooner, but oddly I haven’t been getting notifications of your posts, though I’m subscribed 🤷🏻♀️🤔 something I’ll have to look into. Love and light to you, my friend🙏🏻❤️🔥
LikeLiked by 1 person
JAM,
The cold really does teach, does it not? What you’ve described—dread turned to ritual, shock to awakening—is the kind of re-wiring that keeps us alive to presence. Proof the mind can choose differently, and the soul can grow stronger for it.
Thank you for speaking it with such clarity. Keep planting these reminders—we need them.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is you that planted the reminders my friend, 🫶🏼I was simply agreeing.Yes the cold does teach.🙌🏻
LikeLiked by 1 person