My dad raised my brother and me mostly on his own after my parents divorced before I started kindergarten. He was old-school in all the ways you might imagine. Asking for help wasn't in his vocabulary. Neither was coddling.
As the older sibling, and the girl, I carried a lot of household chores. Dishes were one. Most nights, that was just the deal. But every now and then, my dad would throw out a challenge. With a sly smile, nod toward the pinball machine, and say something like, "Beat my score and I'll do the dishes tonight."
Say no more. Game on.
I wasn't just playing pinball in those moments. I was focused. Locked in. Competitive in the way that only a kid who also grew up around the world of racing can be. I wanted to win. And more often than you would expect, I did.
What I didn't understand then is that something unseen was happening. Not just between my dad and me. Not just in the game.
Those competitions were about more than pinball or getting out of doing the dishes. Something I was simply too young to recognize at the time.
And what I can see now is that those moments held an energy. Between us. In the challenge. In the emotion of it all.
I can see it more clearly now. Everything is energy.
Here's the fascinating part. Science tells us that beneath everything we can see is something we can't. Every object you have ever touched is made of atoms, and those atoms are in constant motion. What we experience as solid matter is energy vibrating in different forms.
That includes us.
Your body is energy. Your thoughts are energy. Your emotions are energy. Even sound, light, and the words we speak are all expressions of energy moving through different forms. And energy doesn't just disappear after a moment passes.
It leaves an imprint.
Think about that pinball machine. The metal ball, the flashing lights, the sound of it all. It was just a game on the surface. But for me, it became something else entirely.
It became charged with experience. With emotion. With memory.
Even now, decades later, I cannot see a pinball machine without remembering those moments with my dad. The challenge. The laughter. The deal on the table and my determination to avoid after-dinner duty.
That experience didn't stay in the past. It lives in how I still respond to it today.
That's what I mean when I say everything is energy. Not just in theory, but in lived experience.
Energy moves through everything. And it stays with us in ways we don't always notice.
I have never looked at an ordinary object the same way since.
Nikola Tesla said it best: "If you want to find the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency, and vibration." It is that simple.
Quantum physics is one of the places where this idea starts to feel even more intriguing.
At the subatomic level, the world is not as fixed and solid as it appears. Particles behave in ways that shift depending on how they are measured or observed. It is one of the ways science continues to describe reality as far more dynamic and mysterious than what we experience on the surface.
I believe we create our reality with our thoughts. And that raises a deeper question.
If attention can influence what we observe at the most fundamental levels of reality, then what role might it play in how we experience our everyday lives?
What we consistently focus on tends to shape how we feel, what we notice, and what we remember. It becomes the filter through which we assign meaning to our lives.
And this is where it all starts to feel very personal.
Most of us move through our days absorbing the energy around us without realizing it. The relationship that costs you more than it gives. The conversation that lifts you. The object you cannot bring yourself to throw away for sentimental reasons. The memory that surfaces at unexpected moments. All of it is information. All of it is frequency.
Intentional Creation begins the moment you stop being a passive receiver of energy and start asking: what vibration am I tuning into, and is it taking me where I want to go?
Because once you start seeing the world through this lens, you cannot unsee it. You start to notice which rooms make you feel lighter the moment you walk in. Which objects carry a warmth that has nothing to do with temperature. Which people leave you feeling replenished and which ones leave you depleted.
You start to understand why some memories hit you before your brain even has time to recognize them. Why certain scents can pull you back twenty years in an instant. Why walking away from something that was no longer yours to carry can feel like lifting the world off your shoulders.
Energy is the invisible current running beneath every experience you have ever had.
The moment you begin paying attention to it, you stop drifting and start steering.
And that is where the magic begins.
What is one object from your past that you can still feel the energy of when you think about it?
In The Driver's Seat Podcast
Every week I show up on my podcast the same way I show up here, with real stories, honest conversation, and the kind of talk that makes you think about your life differently. Come find me wherever you get your podcasts.
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