I Know A Guy

I Know A Guy

The Nature Within

I know a guy.

I know a guy who is… quietly extraordinary.

Not loud about it. Not polished, quite the opposite - like an unpolished stone.

Just real in a way that doesn’t need approval.

I know a guy who didn’t always believe this.

I know a guy who bleeds beneath the surface—

a little complex on the inside,

though you might never know it by the way he carries himself through the world.

I know a guy who learned how to hide it.

And I know a guy

who is learning how not to.

I know a guy who looks familiar.

Closer than most would realize.

I know a guy…

who looks a lot like me.

I know a guy who can feel what isn’t said,

who can sense what isn’t seen,

who trusts the quiet whispers of something deeper—even when he doesn’t fully understand it.

I know a guy who doubts this connection sometimes, who feels the weight of judgment

before it’s ever spoken.

I know a guy who’s working on that.

I know a guy who spends hours

sitting with his past—

not to live in it,

but to learn from it,

to grow something new from what once was.

You might know a guy like this too—

someone learning to show up as himself,

even when it feels uncomfortable.

Especially when it feels uncomfortable.

I know a guy who has learned

that discomfort is not the enemy,

but the doorway.

I know a guy who once leaned into comfort

as a way to stay safe,

and now leans into truth

as a way to evolve.

I know a guy with triggers—

technology, noise, speed—

who wonders if all this access

is quietly stealing our patience

to become what we’re meant to be.

I know a guy who works in education.

I know a guy who used to love it.

I know a guy who once felt filled by it—

spirit, purpose, connection.

I know a guy who lost that feeling…

and found it again, just not where he expected.

I know a guy who was told

he might be becoming something else—

a guide, a teacher of a different kind.

And I know a guy who is still becoming.

Because that’s the truth of it—

We are all becoming.

Not instantly.

Not perfectly.

But through time,

through effort,

through the quiet patience

of allowing what’s within us

to take form.

And if we let it…

if we trust it…

if we stay with it long enough—

we begin to harvest what we’ve been growing all along.

How do I know?

I know a guy who looks deeply

into his nature within.