Stardate 03.09.2026
The other day, my virtual assistant asked me an important question while helping me prepare for a couple of upcoming livestreams tied to the launch of my new coloring book.
Her question was simple.
But my response wasn’t.
For a moment, I froze.
A flood of obstacles rushed into my mind like a Stage V river. When rivers reach that level, they’re no longer navigable. The current is simply too strong.
And yet, I realized something important in that moment. Obstacles are worth talking about. They can either shape us into better versions of ourselves—or convince us to quit.
Years ago, I finished my first book. It was a memoir about my dad’s final thirty-five days with us. Writing it was deeply personal. When it was finished, some family members gently suggested that perhaps I had shared a little too much.
So I pivoted.
I still felt the call to write, but I wanted to find a way forward that honored both creativity and privacy. That’s when I tried something new: fiction.
My first novel introduced a character named Thomas Morgan. Thomas was haunted by a strange figure—a disheveled caveman who appeared in his dreams. When Thomas ignored him, the caveman began appearing in mirrors.
Here’s the part that made the writing feel even more real.
Something very similar was happening to me.
I kept that to myself at the time. I didn’t want my family worrying about me or suggesting I seek treatment for something I couldn’t quite explain. Instead, I poured the experience into the story. The caveman became part of the novel.
After finishing the manuscript, curiosity got the better of me. I started searching online to see if the image from my dreams existed somewhere in the real world.
Eventually, I found it.
A perfect match.
A reconstruction of a prehistoric man—dark skinned with striking blue eyes.
And here’s where the story takes an unexpected turn.
The ancient remains used to create that reconstruction were discovered in Northern Spain and studied by scientists working with DNA extracted from a tooth found in the La Braña caves. The scientists determined the man likely had dark skin and blue eyes—just like the figure from my dreams.
Even more fascinating, the research and artwork connected to that discovery were being studied in parts of Europe not terribly far from where my mother’s ancestors once lived.
Naturally, I contacted the artist who created the reconstruction. I hoped the image could become the front cover for my book, The Caveman in the Mirror.
But another obstacle appeared.
The artist had trademarked the image for academic purposes only. He wasn’t available to create a new version, and the artists I knew were all booked solid.
For a moment, I felt stuck.
Then I did something simple.
I asked for help.
I posted a message on Facebook asking friends and family if they knew a graphic artist who might be able to assist.
Before long, my brother-in-law replied. He pointed me toward an artist who lived practically in our own backyard—in Parnell, the small town where my wife was born just five miles south of us.
When I met the artist, something else caught my eye.
He was wearing a Star Trek T-shirt.
At the time, he was helping me add a caption to The Adventures of Castaway Wilson. He had no idea that another project was already forming in my mind—one that would eventually become Live Long and Prosper, a tribute to my childhood hero, Spock.
Looking back now, I see something I couldn’t see while living through it.
The obstacles weren’t roadblocks.
They were pacing mechanisms.
They slowed the journey to a snail’s pace at times, but they also lined up the right people at the right moments.
That’s often how life works.
When the river rises, it can feel impossible to navigate. But if we stay patient, the current eventually guides us somewhere meaningful.
Scripture reminds us of this quiet truth:
“Let us not grow weary of doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”
— Galatians 6:9
Sometimes the breakthrough doesn’t come when we expect it.
But it does come.
And often, it arrives through people we didn’t even know were part of the plan.
Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong
🖖 Captain’s Addendum
Bones: “Captain, you worry too much about obstacles. Half the time they’re just detours.”
Spock: “Indeed, Doctor. Obstacles are frequently evidence that the path itself is being refined.”
Captain Michael: Looking back, I see that both of them are right. The delays, the unexpected turns, even the moments of doubt—they weren’t the end of the mission. They were simply part of the navigation.
And sometimes, the universe sends exactly the right crew member when you need them most.
Thank you for sailing along on this journey with me.
Have a peaceful day. 🖖
