Jason Tharp

I’ve been struggling lately. Not physically. Not mentally. Just struggling to find gratitude.

And I need you to hear this part. That feels honest. Because sometimes life drops you into a story you did not write. You feel like a passenger on a ride you did not buy a ticket for. And you’re just trying to act normal while your inner world is quietly screaming.
Lately I’ve caught myself staring at my flaws. Flaws I’m usually the only one who notices. Then I let them turn into reasons. Reasons I’m stuck. Reasons I’m behind. Reasons I’m not enough.

For me, it’s been the weight gain from being on steroids for so long. I thought I had made peace with my body. I thought I had handled it. Then it swung back around like it always does, covering my eyes and whispering, “Guess who.”

This weekend is a big milestone for my family. We’re taking the first trip of what we used to call a bucket list adventure. My kids don’t love that phrase, so we renamed it. A memory list. And that small change did something to me.
Because names matter. Words matter. “Bucket list” can pull you toward fear. “Memory list” leaves the door open. It makes room for the present moment. It makes room for joy without guilt. It makes room for new memories, not just the pressure of time.
This week I had a reminder of that too. I did a speaking engagement connected to Pelotonia, and the new tower at The James at Ohio State just opened. When I started radiation, that was the day they broke ground. For a long time, that building was my lighthouse. A quiet question I carried every day. Will I live long enough to see it open?

And then it did.

So here’s what I’m learning again, in real time. We can grieve the hard stuff we did not sign up for and still let the good stuff come through. We can admit we’re struggling and still keep moving. We can notice the cloud without building a home inside the storm.
Fear will try to keep you frozen. Love will take your hand and remind you, you’ve done hard things before.
What’s the next most hopeful move?