Reflections from that Time I Got Kicked Out of a Meditation Garden 10 Years Ago
The best resolution is learning to live with yourself.
I’m not good at making New Year’s resolutions. There’s something about the finality of them that scares me.
But, occasionally I make promises to myself about things I want to change. This was one of those times.
Back in 2016, I had the opportunity to go back to Southern California for the first time in 8 years. My family had moved to the East Coast, and I hadn’t really said goodbye to all the places I missed.
So, when the opportunity arose to work at a conference in Los Angeles and drive up and down the coast for 2 weeks and meet my remote employees, I jumped at the chance.
At the time, I was about 3.5 years into working at an online education startup and about 1.5 years into managing the whole thing. I was in my early twenties, managing people far older than me. I was enjoying the experience, but the stress was also really getting to me. I knew that I needed to make the next career step, but I had no idea what to do.
So, over those two weeks, I explored a lot of new places and revisited all the places that meant something to me. My old high school. The Mexican restaurant my family used to go to almost every Sunday. My old house. My grandma’s house. A farm we used to visit every October. The beach.
One place in particular that stands out to me was the meditation garden in Encinitas, just north of San Diego. Though I’d never been here before, it held a special place in my heart for two reasons.
First, my mom had done a weeklong silent retreat there about 40 years earlier, when she was around the same as I was at the time of my story. Second, an author I love, Mark Foreman (father to Jon Foreman, the lead singer of Switchfoot), mentioned that it was his favorite place to go and think.
Even though I’d grown up in California and should have been aware of the traffic, I’d underestimated the 3-4 hours it would take to drive the 70 miles there. So, I arrived right as the gardens were closing.
I wasn’t going to have time to come back, so I did what any red-blooded American would do. As someone was walking out and the gates were closing for the day, I snuck in.
Now, I only ended up having about 10 minutes of blissful reflection enjoying the view of the ocean before someone came and escorted me out.
Was I being disrespectful? Maybe.
But this was a pilgrimage, and I wasn’t about to let something as trivial as opening and closing hours stop me from visiting.
I’d like to say that these promises to myself all came from those 10 minutes in the meditation garden, but the truth is that some came from that moment, and the rest came from a series of peaceful days hiking, driving, and wandering alone over the two weeks that I was there.
When you see this list, you might wonder… why are some of these things even on your list? Eat what you want to eat? Visit the places you want to visit?
Well, yes.
If you’re a classic overthinker and worrier, even little things like what you eat and what you wear can sometimes feel like big decisions.
You also have to be pretty comfortable with yourself to tell your friends that you’re *not* partying it up in Southern California.
Instead, you’re visiting movie sites, the bookstores your favorite band recommended, and going to dive taco joints instead of fancy restaurants.
Sometimes just being yourself is an act of bravery.
So, without any further ado, here’s the list:
More time in nature
More time exercising
More time alone
Develop more meaningful relationships
Eat what I want to eat
Listen to more upbeat music
Do things I enjoy doing
Stop caring about what people think
Be proud of how I dress and how I look
Be ok with how I act
Do more new things
Don’t overthink things
Don’t think about work off the clock
Tie up loose ends
Accomplish what’s on my list
Don’t look at the clock much
The truth is, when I look back at this list, I’m a bit disappointed. I kept to some of these resolutions, but most of them are still a work in progress.
I don’t spend as much time in nature as I’d like, although for a few years I kept up the habit of walking about 4 miles every Saturday morning.
I still care what people think.
I still don’t accomplish everything on my list.
I still overthink things.
I still like sad music.
But if I’m being honest, even though I haven’t kept these resolutions perfectly, I think they marked a turning point in my life.
It was a time when I started to like myself a little more. It was also a time I decided things needed to change.

It was the beginning of the end of an era.
At the time, I had just started thinking seriously about going to business school. My first conversation about getting an MBA was with my friend Adam in February of that year.
But it would take until the end of the following year for me to send in all my applications, and it would be another eight months after that before I started school.
Sometimes change happens all at once. And sometimes it’s slow.
They say history doesn’t repeat itself, but it does rhyme.
You might say that’s the same for my life. Oddly enough, 2026 seems like it’s going to be about the same as 2016. I’ve come to the end of an era. I left my first major corporate job after grad school, and now I’m working on a plan to launch something of my own.
Between the time I prepped for grad school, went to grad school, and worked my first real corporate job, that’s a 10 year chapter coming to a close.
I don’t know what’s next, but I know that a lot of those promises from that summer in California still remain the same.
I think the reason I don’t like resolutions is that they seem too rigid, and it’s easy to fail them.
I prefer promises.
See, with a resolution, if you miss a certain number of days, you might say you failed your resolution that year. Next year you may get tired of that resolution and choose a new one.
But with a promise that you make to yourself, it’s easier to understand that these aren’t one-and-done goals.
You won’t finish them at the end of the year, and you won’t get to ditch these next year.
It’s a commitment to try to do a little better in these areas every year for the rest of your life.
Some years, I’ll do great at these promises.
Some years, I’ll do terrible.
Some years, I’ll just be glad to make it to the end of the year.
But I can always try again next year.
And so can you.
Can’t believe it’s been 10 years since I wrote down this list in my phone.
But I’m looking forward to the next 10.





I think the idea of liking yourself more is key.
I’ve gone through phases in my life where I’ve liked myself and my decisions,
And others where I haven’t.
I am coming out of one of those periods now, and it’s not always easy learning to like yourself again after you’ve made mistakes and decisions you wish you would have done differently.
But there is an acceptance that has to happen as you indicate at the end of your post. Sometimes you’ll get it right, sometimes you won’t. But you can always try again.
Thanks for this post Colin!
This post reminds me that the real work isn’t fixing who you are.
It’s learning how to sit with yourself without running away.
You weren’t trying to become someone new.
You were trying to stop fighting who you already were.
And that’s why the garden matters.
That’s why the list matters.
It wasn’t about improvement.
It was about permission.
Permission to eat what you like, go where you want, and be alone without feeling guilty.
Living with yourself is the hardest thing.
But once you stop arguing with who you are?
Life just becomes…better.