March has always been a breath of fresh air—the month of purging, of shedding pent-up stress accumulated throughout the long freeze. It’s an opportunity to unclog the arteries, stretch your stiff legs, and finally step into the real world instead of hiding inside the simulation, pretending to be whatever disingenuous avatar you’ve conjured over the past few months.

It’s the beginning of spring—and spring cleaning! It's your ecdysis: the shedding of bad habits, the brushing off of layered filth, and the eradication of those toxic people dragging you down.

March is about finally removing the gas mask that shields you from the nuclear plume hanging over your life—so you can breathe naturally again. So you can encourage new healthy growth.

If you’ve been following The Bluebird Paradox, hopefully, you’ve stuck to your plans of letting shit go, staying resilient against negativity, and finding a healthy relationship with your expectations. If not, it’s a great time to make some vital corrections before the year slips away.

This month is known for several things—Women’s History, Leprechauns, and March Madness usually top the list. Surprisingly, I’ve stumbled upon a way to connect all three—if you’re willing to imagine for a moment trolls throwing temper tantrums instead of Leprechauns spouting limericks, self-righteousness becoming the new gold standard, and Women’s History stripped of nearly all femininity, twisted into a non-binary soft serve and topped with rainbow sprinkles, all culminating in pure Madness.

For me, March Madness evokes something other than basketball. Yes, my mind hones in on the Madness—because nowadays, it’s everywhere, and few are addressing it. Mine looks more like Newton’s Cradle harmonizing in the background while someone paints their trauma onto a blank ceiling, as their therapist counts the minutes until their crazy ass goes home.

So, in this issue, while staying true to the theme of spring cleaning, I’ll also highlight the psychosis of wokeism because boy, have I encountered my fair share of woketards over the past 30 days...

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Sadhill @ www. chrissadhill .com

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February is filled with expectations—most of them are external pressures brought on by the corporate machine and its influence on society. After all, 'tis the season of candy and chocolate-scented air—a sweet perfume acting like a cog twisting in the background that triggers our biological hearts to throb.

Maybe you’re young and looking for love, hoping your soulmate circles YES on that hand-scribed love letter sealed with a kiss. Or maybe you were counting on that groundhog not seeing its shadow, sparing you six more weeks of cabin fever where you'd surely start conversations with whatever's scratching in the walls. Or possibly your New Year’s resolution is beginning to fizzle out.

Whatever your expectations were, sometimes they don’t go as planned. Disappointments hover over us like mosquitoes—waiting to suck us dry and steal tiny pieces of our souls. Once they do, they flee without consequence, leaving us emptier, more vulnerable… and itchy.

Goddamn it, they suck!

But what are they, how can we avoid them, and is there a repellent to keep these nasty buggers at bay...

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Sadhill @ www. chrissadhill .com

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If you’re like me or the other zillion Homo sapiens racing through modern-day life, dragging baggage like dead weight while trying to better ourselves, I assume you too made some kind of plan for self-improvement this year—whether big or small—aiming to advance your mind, body, relationships, or even your career. You made resolutions, promises, and rules, vowing this year would be your bitch! For those of you in a better place, maybe you're simply refining yourself, making minor adjustments to an already great system. Or perhaps you did nothing because you're just that goddamn perfect. And if that's the case, well, this issue’s not for you.

But regardless of what you’re working on—or not—one of three things is happening:

You haven’t started yet.

You’ve started, but you’re beginning to doubt the process or whether you’ll see it through.

You’ve started and are doing great.

All three scenarios can be spun into a pro or a con, depending on who’s presenting the argument.

One could say that . . .

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We can’t control everything, though our egos would argue otherwise. Sure, you can pick which color socks to slide on today, choose to leave early to avoid getting stuck behind that goddamned school bus again, or skirt the edge of insanity by adding two shots of espresso to your Mocha Grande Frappuccino. But constantly trying to predict a hundred-mile-wide asteroid you never saw coming in the first place—that’s impossible. Dragging along years of bitterness, anger, and worry—a huge waste of time and energy.

So why do it? Why dread the things you can’t control? Why carry a mountain of worry?

Life is a series of lucky chances, random encounters, and risks we try to mitigate daily. We’re constantly dodging self-imposed catastrophes while holding it together just enough to avoid a meltdown. Each of us is on the verge of...

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Everywhere we look this month, we’re reminded to be “thankful.” Whether it’s a branded coffee cup, ads burning holes into our retinas, the mini billboards looming at the gas pumps, or Aunt Janis tapping her third wine glass at the dinner table, demanding everyone share what they’re thankful for, the message is everywhere—and so is the pressure.

Hell, even I’m talking about it. Jeez!

But for those deeply suffering—drowning in despair for whatever reason—being thankful, or finding something to be thankful for, is easier said than done...

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https://chrissadhill.substack.com/p/issue-6-grab-the-rope-for-once

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Too often, our minds become the battlefield for good and evil, quickly turning into ground zero for self-sabotage. It’s a brain parasite, eating away our resilience like piranhas. This illusion of love and self-hate creates an abomination resembling a snake eating its tail—except there’s no rebirth, just the recurrence of resentment and regret. We feast on indulgence and self-deception, lying to our reflection, knowing that this cycle is poisonous. It’s perpetual and agonizing, yet we keep making these revolutions, revisiting the barren wasteland of false hopes, and returning home with nothing but destruction and toxicity, assuming we’ll achieve a different outcome. So, here we are again, ending where we started, in a place that feels uncomfortably familiar—lapping infinity.

Some of us love playing the same song on repeat because it’s our anthem, our identity, all we know. But deep inside, we each want something more...

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When you look in the mirror, what do you see? Do you take the time to really look at yourself? To spend a meaningful moment with yourself?

What do you see?

Is it beauty, success, greatness—a future best-selling novelist? Or do you see a monster: unhappy, fearful, a failure? Perhaps a procrastinator, a fraud, a “fatty” undeserving of love and praise, or something else. Maybe it’s a bit of everything.

Maybe you see nothing at all.

And when I say look, I mean peering through those dazed pupils deep into your soul, having an unspoken conversation with yourself. A head check. A state of the YOU-nion with your subconscious.

Be honest. What do you see?

---

I rarely look at myself, but when I do, I see a...

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Helplessness is a dagger, leaving behind the nastiest scars. Its trademark: dual edges, cutting everyone involved and killing them simultaneously, with nothing anybody can do about it. It’s uncalculated, irrational, and sporadic—the worst kind of killer. At least, that’s how it feels when you’re knee-deep in shit, wondering how you’re still alive and struggling to understand your life’s purpose. It’s misery on a plate, and you’re forbidden to leave the table until you’ve swallowed every last bite.

You may feel like you’re stuck in a relationship, drowning in debt, losing your mind, addicted to drugs, or a slave to alcohol. Maybe you’re jobless, carless, homeless, and feeling like a burden to those around you—or yourself. Helplessness is knowing you inevitably need help...

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The inferiority complex is damaging and toxic, and if left unchecked poisonous to the blood. It quickly seeps its way into the brain and tarnishes all of your thoughts and every decision. It destroys your functionality, ruins relationships, and diminishes the potential to achieve the best version of yourself. It affects your self-esteem, self-worth, and self-confidence. It affects your Self and any sense you may have of it. It disorients you and leaves you stranded in the world, never knowing where you belong or where you stand. It acts like an ego and begs you to seek attention through any means possible. It’s narcissistic and its byproduct is the welfare state of mind. But like all things, our perceptions and our reactions those perceptions have drastically different outcomes depending on one’s life experiences and perspectives.

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Here we go. There’s no turning back now. I’ve officially added yet another thing to my “I’ve taken on too much” list and I'm now obligated to entertain you fine folks.

My newsletter is finally here after tons of procrastination, fighting over what to write, and struggling to believe no one will care to read it.

As I write this, I’m still winging it, so expect this thing to transform and progress over time, but regardless of the journey, I appreciate...

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'til next time...