The Joy of Expanding

 Stardate: 08.17.2026

I find myself learning something new almost every day.

Sometimes the lesson is small. I've been picking up a word or two in Spanish. I've learned a different way to approach a difficult situation. I've watched someone on a new team handle a problem and thought, I hadn't considered that.

I've been on assignment for several weeks now, working with people I didn't know when I arrived.

That has put me outside my comfort zone.

I've noticed something during these weeks.

I learn faster when I'm there.

There is a certain alertness that comes with unfamiliar surroundings. I pay closer attention. I ask more questions. I watch how people respond. I adjust.

Two intense days have just passed. I slept well last night, and this morning I can feel the difference. I have five days remaining before I head home for four days of rest.

Then I begin again.

A new assignment. A new team. Another opportunity to learn.

I'm beginning to appreciate these cycles.

There is another lesson appearing alongside all of this.

For a long time, I have returned to the Serenity Prayer when change became difficult for me. I needed the serenity to accept what I couldn't change, the courage to change what I could, and the wisdom to know the difference.

The words have stayed the same.

My understanding of them has changed.

I'm finding myself in situations where I can influence change from a position I once believed was outside my control.

That has been a wonderful discovery.

I think about the people I've been training during this assignment. When I arrived, I was increasing. I was learning the environment and building relationships.

Now I'm watching them increase.

That is a good feeling.

Soon I will leave, and they will continue what we started.

Then I'll travel home and spend four days with my wife before heading out again.

These travels have given us glimpses of another part of our future, too. Retirement is four years away. Every assignment gives us another little preview of what life might look like when work no longer determines where we need to be.

We're learning along the way.

We're paying attention to what we enjoy. We're discovering what gives us energy. We're seeing places and having experiences we might never have encountered if we stayed entirely within familiar routines.

I can make adjustments now.

That may be one of the greatest gifts of having four years to prepare.

I don't have to wait until retirement to learn how I want to live.

I can learn today.

I can try something new today.

I can step into an unfamiliar situation and see what it teaches me.

Paul wrote:

"Be transformed by the renewing of your mind."

— Romans 12:2

That verse has taken on new meaning for me.

Renewal can happen in very ordinary places.

It can happen in a conversation.

It can happen on a new team.

It can happen when a difficult situation doesn't unfold the way I expected.

It can happen when I discover that I have more influence than I thought I had.

I'm beginning to see continuous learning as part of the journey itself.

Every day gives us something to notice.

Every person can teach us something.

Every unfamiliar situation gives us another opportunity to grow.

And sometimes, when we pay attention, we discover that the boundaries we thought were fixed have moved.

That is where I find myself today.

Still learning.

Still growing.

Still discovering what's possible.

And grateful for the opportunity.

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Captain's Addendum

Bones: "Michael, you're learning Spanish now? I suppose we'll have to add that to the Captain's growing list of experiments."

Spock: "Doctor, continuous learning appears to be producing measurable expansion. I see no logical reason to discourage it."

Bones: "Just make sure he remembers to rest between missions."

Spock and Bones may have a point.

Five days from now I'll be home for four days. Then I'll head out again and begin building another team.

For now, I'm grateful for this season and for the lessons it continues to reveal.

One day at a time. One percent better.

Captain’s Handbook

Stardate: 08.16.2026

Three years ago, I needed a template to help me tell a story.

Today, I sometimes forget the template is there.

That may be one of the clearest signs that something has changed.

I have been writing every day for 17 years. Somewhere along the way, that daily practice turned into more than 6,200 blog stories and five self-published books.

That's a lot of repetition.

Every morning, I sit down and try to turn something that happened into something worth sharing. Some days the story is obvious. Other days I have to search for it.

That repetition has built some writing muscle.

When I began working with Alberta three years ago, I already had plenty of experience showing up at the keyboard. What I needed was a better way to shape the experiences I was collecting.

So we developed a framework.

Over time, the framework became more detailed. We learned what worked. We learned what didn't. We learned which phrases sounded like me and which ones didn't. We learned how much explanation a story needed and when an observation could simply stand on its own.

Eventually, the framework became Version 8.

Locked.

It might sound strange to describe a writing template that way. For me, it represents years of practice.

Something interesting happened along the way.

I stopped needing to think about every rule.

I began to recognize the story.

A conversation could become a story.

A table at a restaurant could become a story.

A storm could become a story.

A commercial during a movie could become a story.

The framework had become part of the way I looked at the world.

That reminds me of something I recently learned from F. Matthias Alexander. His work centered on the way habits shape us, often without our conscious awareness. Repetition creates patterns. With enough practice, those patterns become familiar.

Writing has worked that way for me.

The template gave me structure. Seventeen years of showing up gave me repetition. Three years of refining the craft gave me a better sense of what belongs on the page.

And somewhere along the way, I started noticing that the practice wasn't staying on the page.

The same habit of paying attention shows up during prayer and meditation.

It shows up when I'm working with people.

It shows up in my marriage.

It shows up when I'm traveling and notice something I might have walked past years ago.

Even yesterday, during a difficult workday, I found myself paying attention to what was happening without letting the pressure take over. There were challenges. We were short on people. Everyone was being pushed.

I stayed relaxed.

Then I punched out on time, met my wife in the hotel parking lot, and we went to worship together. We had one of our best dinners of this assignment afterward.

Those moments probably wouldn't have made much impression on me years ago.

Now I notice them.

Maybe that's what all those repetitions have been doing.

The writing has trained me to look.

A person who practices gratitude begins to notice things worth being grateful for.

A person who practices kindness begins to notice opportunities to be kind.

A person who practices prayer begins to notice God in places that might once have gone unnoticed.

The practice shapes the practitioner.

I don't think that means the framework is finished.

Quite the opposite.

I still have the template.

I still have the guardrails.

I still have the mission.

But after 17 years of writing every day, more than 6,200 stories, five books, and three years of refining this particular framework, I find myself trusting my instincts a little more.

The handbook is still on the desk.

I just don't have to look at it every time.

Maybe that's one of the gifts of practicing something for a long time.

Eventually, some of what you practiced begins to travel with you.

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Scripture

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord.” — Colossians 3:23

Captain's Addendum

Spock: “Michael, it appears the Captain has been studying his handbook for three years.”

Bones: “Three years? I thought he was writing a blog.”

Spock: “Perhaps those activities are no longer separate.”

Bones: “Now you're getting philosophical, Spock.”

I think Bones may have a point.

The stories have changed because I have changed. The framework helped me get here, but the real work happened through thousands of small moments of paying attention, writing, revising, and trying again.

The same thing may be happening in other parts of my life.

The practice keeps following me.

And tomorrow morning, I'll probably sit down and do it again.

May you live long and prosper.

How to Handle Criticism

Stardate 08.15.2026

I've faced strong opposition over the years when it comes to sharing some of my crazy ideas.

The old version of me would have crawled under a rock, let the critics have their way, and prayed for the courage to accept the things I could not change.

Something has changed.

Lately, I've noticed that a few of those ideas are finding their way into the workplace. I don't claim all the credit. I do recognize the encouragement of one respected leader who challenged me to stop looking only at things as they are and imagine what they could become.

That simple shift in perspective has made a lasting impact on me.

Recently, I watched a video of Steve Jobs handling a tough question from a vocal critic during a live presentation. He paused, took a drink of water, and calmly acknowledged that parts of the criticism were valid.

Then came the teaching moment.

Jobs explained that when Apple designs products, they begin with the customer experience and work backward toward the technology. The philosophy helped create products that generated billions of dollars in annual revenue.

What impressed me most wasn't the business success.

It was the composure.

He listened.

He acknowledged.

He taught.

That lesson immediately reminded me of what we're trying to accomplish at my day job. The best solutions begin with understanding the people we're trying to serve.

Criticism will always be part of life. Sometimes it's unfair. Sometimes it's painfully accurate.

Wisdom is learning the difference.

I'm still learning not to fear criticism. I want to become the kind of person who can pause, listen carefully, find the truth hidden inside disagreement, and keep moving forward without losing my peace.

Perhaps that is one of the most valuable skills we can develop during uncertain times.

“The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man listens to advice.”
— Proverbs 12:15

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Captain's Addendum

Bones: “Michael, you actually listened to your critics?”

Spock: “An encouraging sign of personal development, Doctor.”

Bones: “I was going to say maturity.”

Spock: “Your optimism is noted.”

I've learned that criticism doesn't have to determine my direction. Sometimes it can help me see something I missed.

I'm still learning to pause.

I'm still learning to listen.

And I'm grateful for the people willing to challenge me along the way.

May you live long and prosper.

What Are We Allowing to Shape Us?

Stardate: 08.14.2026

I gave up television.

That may sound like a small decision. For me, it created something I needed.

It created time.

Over the past several years, morning prayer and meditation have become an important part of my day. I wake naturally, spend time in prayer, sit quietly, and give myself space to listen before the day begins.

That habit has changed me.

I have become more aware of what I allow into my mind. I pay more attention to the thoughts I repeat, the voices I listen to, and the habits that shape the way I spend my time.

Television rarely enters that equation anymore, especially when I am traveling.

Last week, I was in a hotel room with my wife, and we decided to watch a movie. It had been a while since I had sat through a movie with television commercials.

I noticed something I had forgotten.

The commercials.

They kept coming.

One after another, messages were placed in front of us.

Buy this. Try that. Eat this. Look younger. Drive this. Take this. Upgrade that.

Most of the time, we probably don't think much about them. We have become accustomed to the interruptions.

Sitting there that evening, I realized how much noise I had removed from my life by simply removing television from my daily routine.

I don't believe every advertisement is harmful. I do believe repeated messages have an influence. When we hear something often enough, it can begin to feel familiar. Familiar things can begin to feel normal. Eventually, they can influence what we want without us stopping to ask why.

That brought me back to something I recently read from F. Matthias Alexander:

“People do not decide their futures, they decide their habits and their habits decide their futures.”

That thought has been sitting with me.

A habit seems small when we practice it once. Its influence comes through repetition.

Prayer each morning may seem like a small habit.

Meditation may seem like a small habit.

Turning off the television may seem like a small habit.

Yet these choices change what has access to my attention.

The same principle works in the other direction. The things we repeatedly watch, hear, consume, and think about can shape us too.

Jesus said:

“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”

— Proverbs 4:23

I have plenty of things competing for my attention every day. I have become more intentional about what I invite into that space.

Morning prayer and meditation have given me a place to begin.

The quiet has become valuable.

The time has become valuable.

And I am grateful for the habits that are slowly becoming part of who I am.

Maybe that is worth considering today.

What are you doing every day that is quietly shaping your future?

What have you allowed into your life simply because it has always been there?

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

May you live long and prosper.

Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Michael, you have eliminated television and replaced it with meditation.”

Bones: “And now you're writing about commercials.”

Spock: “Perhaps the Captain has discovered that removing one habit creates room for another.”

Bones: “Just don't tell him to give up the movies, Spock.”

I am grateful for the quiet I have created in my own life. It gives me room to begin each day choosing what gets my attention.

Captain’s Note

“Our calling is not to write perfect words, but to reveal perfect grace through imperfect moments—one percent better, one day at a time.” 

 

The Night My Body Said Thank You

 Stardate: 08.13.2026

I woke up this morning feeling great.

That might not sound like much of a story, but when you pay attention to your sleep, sometimes the numbers get your attention.

Last night was one of those nights.

I recorded 7 hours and 29 minutes of actual sleep.

Deep sleep: 1 hour and 41 minutes.

REM sleep: 1 hour and 33 minutes.

I was awake for 1 hour and 1 minute, with a sleep latency of 23 minutes.

My sleep score was 73.

That last number caught my attention because 73 doesn't sound like an extraordinary score.

Yet I feel great.

Yesterday was a day off from my assignment away from home, and I spent it with my wife.

We went to Lake Michigan and found ourselves in a place that felt almost dreamlike.

It was foggy.

I couldn't see very far across the water, but I could hear the small waves rolling onto the shore.

There was something peaceful about being unable to see the horizon.

It felt like living inside a dream.

During our walk, I told my wife about something that happened a couple of days earlier.

A large white feather, probably 12 inches long, had floated down from the sky and landed ahead of me as I walked.

She told me she had heard there can be spiritual significance associated with finding a white feather.

I don't know exactly what the feather meant.

I do know how it made me feel.

Peaceful.

That sense of peace stayed with me through the day.

By 7:23 that evening, I was tired.

So I went to bed.

I listened to my body.

This morning, the numbers gave me something to consider.

My body gave me something else.

I've become increasingly interested in the science of healthspan and longevity. I'm tracking my sleep. I've experimented with nutrition. I've had a DEXA scan. I've been learning more about biological age and the things we can do to understand our health as we grow older.

DoNotAge has been part of that journey as my international blog sponsor.

Disclosure: DoNotAge sponsors my blog, and I receive a stipend when readers use my code LLAP. I want you to know that connection whenever I mention them or share my code.

If you're interested in learning more about DoNotAge, you can visit their website here:

DoNotAge

And if you choose to use my code, it's LLAP.

That's the commercial part of today's Health Update. The rest is simply me sharing what happened.

There is another chapter coming soon.

At the end of September, I'll travel to London for an international gathering of longevity doctors and researchers. I'll have the opportunity to listen, ask questions, and learn from people who spend their lives studying many of the things that have become increasingly interesting to me.

I'm curious about what I'll learn.

I'm even more curious about what questions I'll bring home.

For today, though, I'm grateful for a foggy day at Lake Michigan, small waves rolling onto the shore, a mysterious white feather, an early bedtime, and a night of sleep that left me feeling great.

Perhaps Psalm 46:10 says it best:

"Be still, and know that I am God." — Psalm 46:10

Yesterday gave me plenty of stillness.

Maybe that's part of why I slept so well.

Join me here:

Michael Mulligan on Substack

Captain's Addendum

Bones: "Michael, you're going to London to talk with longevity doctors, and you're analyzing your sleep numbers before breakfast?"

Spock: "An accurate observation, Doctor. The Captain appears to be gathering data."

Bones: "I just hope he remembers to enjoy the journey."

And perhaps that's the reminder I needed this morning.

Pay attention.

Keep learning.

Listen when the body says it's tired.

And when the day gives you a quiet beach, a little fog, and a moment of peace, stay there long enough to notice it.

Live long and prosper.

The View from Below

 Stardate: 08.12.2026

Last Friday, I woke up early.

My shift wasn't scheduled to begin for another five hours, but I wanted to witness the grand opening.

Other teammates wanted to be there too. I invited the manager from my hotel, and she showed up and stood alongside me. Adria, the pickleball pro I had invited, arrived just as the ribbon cutting was happening.

Peter and Laura, people I had met only days earlier, walked over from their home across the street to see what was happening.

There was a buzz in the air.

The ribbon was cut.

I was standing outside the building when it happened. The doors were rolled down, so I couldn't see what was happening inside the vestibule. I knew the mayor and senior managers were inside. I knew Tyler was welcoming our first members.

I couldn't see any of it.

Yet I felt like I was witnessing something extraordinary.

I was surrounded by people who had become new friends during my assignment. We had gathered together because we wanted to be there for the moment.

Four days later, yesterday, my wife and I went to the movies.

We watched The Odyssey.

During the movie, I heard a line that stayed with me:

“To have the best view, one must look from below.”

I carried those words out of the theater.

This morning, during Golden Hour, I began to understand why.

My assignment has reminded me of something about leadership.

I'm not a boss.

I don't have a title.

I'm the servant.

I'm called upon to guide the team and develop them. I get to watch people grow. I get to help people find their way. I get to witness what happens when people come together and become a team.

I thrive on this.

I love being the witness.

Standing outside those closed doors last Friday suddenly feels like part of the lesson.

I didn't need to see the ribbon cutting.

I was there.

I was surrounded by teammates and new friends. People who weren't part of my life when I arrived had gathered around me.

That means something to me.

I've spent much of my life trying to build things. Teams. Relationships. Communities. Something good that can continue after I'm gone.

Maybe this is why serving others feels so natural.

When I'm serving and helping others grow, my flower is blooming.

My part in this universe is shining.

And I know where that comes from.

This is the Hand of God.

I can see His fingerprints in the people I've met. I can see them in the friendships that formed so quickly. I can see them in the invitations that were accepted and the people who showed up.

I can see them in a morning when I had no obligation to be there, yet something inside me told me to wake up and go.

There I stood.

Outside.

Below.

Watching a new chapter begin.

And somehow, I had one of the best views.

“Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant.”
— Mark 10:43

That verse feels different when you are living it.

I don't need to understand every assignment.

I just need to be faithful to the one I'm given.

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Captain's Addendum

Bones: “Michael, you know, most people would have tried to get inside so they could see the ribbon cutting.”

Spock: “Indeed, Doctor. Our Captain appears to have discovered that perspective does not always require physical proximity.”

Bones: “I still think somebody should have opened the doors.”

Sometimes I think God gives us exactly the view we need.

Friday morning, I couldn't see through those doors.

Today, I can see something I couldn't see then.

My flower is blooming.

And I'm grateful to be here for it.

Table 114

 Stardate: 08.11.2026

Sometimes a restaurant review begins with the food. This one begins with a table.

Last week, my family and I stopped at the Etcetera just before the lunch rush. It was another visit to a place I have come to enjoy, and I already knew it would not be my last.

The Etcetera sits along the lake in Oconomowoc, just north of Madison and off I-94. It is a great place to visit with dogs, and the view from the upper deck is hard to beat.

Molly was our food server, and Vincent also helped make our visit a five-star experience. When Molly asked where we were from, she asked if we knew the Driscoll family.

My wife grinned and asked, “Which Driscoll family?”

It turns out Molly had played volleyball at Drake with someone from our church family. A simple question about where we were from opened a door to a connection none of us expected.

Since we were her first customers of the day, Molly let us choose any table on the upper deck. I picked a corner table overlooking the lake.

“Great choice,” Molly said. “That’s the most popular table in the restaurant.”

I immediately asked for the table number. I was already thinking about sharing the experience with my readers.

Table 114.

The view was beautiful. The food was excellent. I had a mushroom burger that was out of this world.

Molly also noticed our grand dogs. She made sure they had plenty of water and shade while we enjoyed our lunch. Then she took pictures of our experience so we would have memories to keep.

Those little details stayed with me.

Good service can be measured in many ways. Sometimes it is the meal arriving at the right time. Sometimes it is a server remembering the people at the table. Sometimes it is making sure the dogs have water on a warm afternoon.

And sometimes it is discovering that a person you just met has a connection to someone you already know.

Jesus reminded us:

“Do to others as you would have them do to you.”

— Luke 6:31

Molly and Vincent gave our family a memorable afternoon. The food was good, the view was beautiful, and the conversation made the experience personal.

Thank you, Molly and Vincent, for taking such good care of us. We will be telling our friends back home about Table 114 and the experience we had there.

If you find yourself in Oconomowoc, put the Etcetera on your list. And if you visit before Molly heads off to grad school at the end of summer, be sure to say hello.

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

May you live long and prosper.

Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “Michael, you selected the most popular table in the restaurant.”

Bones: “And somehow you turned lunch into another story for the log.”

Spock: “The evidence suggests the Captain knew exactly what he was doing.”

There are days when the story finds us while we are simply sitting at a table, enjoying lunch with people we love. I am grateful for those moments.

Captain’s Note

“Our calling is not to write perfect words, but to reveal perfect grace through imperfect moments—one percent better, one day at a time.”

The Storm Was Part of the Lesson

 Stardate: 08.10.2026

My wife and I attended 8 a.m. Mass yesterday morning.

The homily centered on the moment when Jesus sent His followers out onto the water while He remained behind.

A storm developed.

The disciples became frightened. Then they saw Jesus walking on the water. They thought He was a ghost. Jesus called out to them, and Peter responded by stepping out of the boat.

For a moment, Peter walked on the water.

Then he became afraid and began to sink. He called out to Jesus, and Jesus reached down and pulled him from the water.

The priest made a point that stayed with me.

Jesus knew the storm was coming when He sent the disciples onto the water.

We left Mass and headed toward Madison.

A storm was moving through the area.

Lightning lit up the sky as we drove. The flashes were bright enough to turn the dark clouds into silhouettes. We could see the storm around us as we made our way toward my first pickleball lesson with Adria Rushing, the pickleball professional who had visited us during the grand opening on Friday.

I thought about the homily.

We kept driving.

I wasn't afraid. I knew Jesus was with us.

We arrived on time, and the lesson began.

Adria worked with me on the fundamentals. She showed me proper grips, stance, and positioning. Each correction made the game make a little more sense.

I began to understand where my body should be, how I should hold the paddle, and what I should be looking for when the ball came toward me.

By the end of the lesson, I walked away with something I didn't have when I arrived.

Confidence.

I can learn this game.

There is plenty of practice ahead. That makes me smile because I enjoy learning something new.

After the lesson, Adria and I stood beside each other for an interview. We talked about the pickleball project back home, and I had an opportunity to give a shout-out to the committee that has worked so hard to make four outdoor courts possible.

Construction is underway.

I thought about how that project started with an idea. People stepped forward. The idea became a plan. The plan became a project. Now the courts are taking shape.

Eventually, Helen and I headed home.

The storms were still moving through the area. We found a path between them and made it home safely.

The homily from the morning kept coming back to me.

The storm was already there when we left Mass.

So was Jesus.

We kept going.

Peter's story stayed with me throughout the day. The storm didn't need to disappear for the journey to continue. There was still a next step to take.

Yesterday, my next step happened to be onto a pickleball court.

Tomorrow, it will be something else.

“Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”
— Matthew 14:27

Join me here:

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Captain's Addendum

Spock: “Michael appears to have discovered that storms can accompany recreational activities.”

Bones: “And somehow, Spock, he managed to turn a pickleball lesson into a spiritual lesson.”

Spock: “The evidence suggests the Captain is becoming quite efficient at this.”

I smiled when I thought about the day.

The storm was part of the journey.

So was the lesson.

 I am grateful for the worship, the time with Helen, the lesson with Adria, the conversation about pickleball, the people building those courts back home, and the safe trip through the storms.

I have a pickleball paddle purchased from my day job, some things to practice, and another day ahead.

That is enough for now.

The Patron Saint of Grocers

 Stardate: 08.09.2026

Sometimes a day begins with a simple recommendation.

Yesterday, several locals told me about a tower in a park near my hotel. They knew the area and said I should go take a look.

So I did.

On the way to the park, I met a couple who added another recommendation.

"Make sure you visit Holy Hill after you finish here."

I tucked that away and continued toward the tower.

I climbed to the top, took some photos, and then made my way back down.

The park had been worth the visit.

Now it was time to follow the second recommendation.

We drove to Holy Hill, where the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception stands above the surrounding countryside. The basilica honors Mary, the mother of Jesus.

I climbed the 178 steps to the top.

One step at a time.

At the top, I took more photos and enjoyed the view before making my way back down.

Then we stopped inside the basilica gift shop.

That's where I found the card.

It told the story of St. Michael the Archangel.

I turned it over and started reading.

Then I saw something I had never known.

St. Michael is the patron saint of grocers.

I stopped.

Seriously?

My name is Michael.

I work in the grocery business.

I am currently away from home helping open a new warehouse.

And yesterday, while visiting a basilica dedicated to Mary, I discovered that St. Michael the Archangel has traditionally been associated with grocers.

I had never heard this before.

The discovery sent me down a little historical rabbit hole.

The connection reaches back centuries. Medieval grocers dealt with valuable commodities that had to be measured carefully. Scales were part of their trade, and St. Michael is traditionally depicted carrying scales along with his sword.

The old merchant guilds also carried responsibilities involving honest trade, quality and service to their communities.

Suddenly, this wasn't just an interesting piece of history.

It was personal.

I had gone to a park because locals recommended a tower.

Along the way, I met a couple who recommended Holy Hill.

I climbed the tower.

Then I climbed 178 steps to the top of the basilica.

I took photos.

I came back down.

And in the gift shop, I happened to pick up a card that introduced me to a connection between St. Michael and the grocery business that I had somehow missed for 66 years.

I don't know what to make of that.

Maybe it was simply an interesting coincidence.

Maybe there is something more to it.

I'm comfortable leaving that question open.

I've learned to pay attention to these moments.

They don't always arrive with an announcement.

Sometimes they are waiting on the back of a card in a gift shop.

"For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways." — Psalm 91:11

Join me here:

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Captain's Addendum

Spock: "Michael, the probability of discovering your patron saint in a basilica gift shop after climbing 178 steps is intriguing."

Bones: "Spock, Michael doesn't need a probability. He needs to enjoy the discovery."

I think Bones has the right idea.

Yesterday gave me something I didn't know I was looking for.

A new piece of history.

A connection to my own name.

And one more reason to keep paying attention to the little things that happen along the journey.

I'm grateful for the discovery.

And I'm smiling at the thought that somewhere along the way, Michael the grocer may have finally met St. Michael the Archangel.

The Remedy Is a Walk in the Woods

 Stardate: 08.08.2026

Yesterday, we cut the ribbon.

The opening was successful. The work that had occupied so much of my attention for weeks reached an important milestone. There were people to meet, problems to solve, teams to encourage, and a thousand little details that needed attention.

Today is different.

I woke up knowing I had nowhere I needed to be.

Helen and I shared a quiet breakfast together. There was no rush to get somewhere. No schedule pulling us toward the next responsibility. We simply sat together and enjoyed the morning.

Outside, the sky is clear. The temperature is ideal for being outdoors, and there is a gentle breeze moving through the trees.

We are going hiking.

After weeks of living at a fast pace, walking the trails feels like exactly what we need.

There is something about walking that gives the mind room to settle. The body gets moving. Conversation happens naturally. Sometimes there are stretches of silence. You notice the trees. You notice the sky. You notice the people walking beside you.

Today, that person is my wife.

I have spent a lot of time during this assignment thinking about teams, leadership, responsibility and the people God has placed in my path. Those things matter deeply to me.

So does this.

There are seasons when the work demands our attention. There are also moments when the wisest thing we can do is step away from the work and allow ourselves to recover.

Jesus understood the need for rest.

“Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.”
— Mark 6:31

Those words feel particularly appropriate this morning.

The trail is waiting.

The country around us is beautiful, and we have the opportunity to slow down long enough to enjoy it. Helen and I don't need a complicated plan. We need some time together, fresh air and a good walk.

Sometimes the remedy is that simple.

Yesterday was about opening a new chapter for a team.

Today feels like opening a little space in my own life.

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Captain's Addendum

Spock: Michael, the evidence suggests that walking may be an effective recovery protocol.

Bones: For once, Spock, you don't need evidence. Just go take the walk.

Spock: Agreed. And Michael, perhaps today you should allow the Captain to enjoy the scenery.

There are plenty of days ahead for the mission.

For today, I'm grateful for a quiet breakfast with Helen, a clear sky, a little breeze and a trail waiting for us.

That is enough.

And maybe that is the point.

Live long and prosper. 🖖

The Ribbon

 Stardate: 08.07.2026

This morning, they cut the ribbon.

I was there.

I wasn't on the clock. I'm working the closing shift today, so I had the opportunity to stand outside the building and watch the moment as an observer.

The new employees were shining.

There was an energy around the building that was easy to feel. People were smiling. The doors were ready. The work that so many people had poured into this opening had finally reached its first morning.

Then I looked around and realized I wasn't standing there alone.

Some of the neighbors who had stood with me outside the building during those early days were there for the ribbon cutting. Standing beside me was the pickleball professional I had invited to attend. The manager from the hotel where I've been staying was there too.

People from different parts of this little chapter of my life had somehow gathered at the same place at the same time.

Then the ribbon was cut.

Just like that, the building became a store.

I stood there and watched the new employees begin their journey.

There is something special about watching people step into a new opportunity. They don't know everything yet. They don't have all the answers. They don't need to.

They just need to begin.

Afterward, I went back to the hotel and arrived around the end of breakfast hours. Emily offered to make me eggs and sausage.

I said yes.

There I was, sitting down to a simple breakfast after witnessing the opening of something that had occupied so much of my attention for weeks.

Eggs.

Sausage.

A ribbon.

A group of new employees beginning something together.

A few neighbors who had become familiar faces.

A pickleball friend.

A hotel manager.

A morning that somehow brought all of these pieces together.

I've spent a lot of time during this assignment thinking about leadership, teams, relationships, and the work that happens behind the scenes. This morning reminded me that eventually there comes a moment when you simply get to stand back and watch.

The doors open.

People walk in.

The team takes over.

And you give thanks.

I think there is wisdom in knowing when to step forward and when to simply witness what God has allowed to grow.

"Commit your work to the Lord, and your plans will be established."

Proverbs 16:3

The ribbon is cut.

The work continues.

And for a little while this morning, I got to stand outside and watch a new team begin.

Now it's time for a little rest in the jacuzzi before tonight's closing shift.

I have a feeling the new employees are going to be just fine.

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Captain's Addendum

Bones: "Michael, you spent weeks helping prepare for this day, and now you're sitting in a jacuzzi."

Spock: "A logical transition, Doctor. Even starships require maintenance."

Bones: "Just make sure our Captain remembers to eat something before reporting for the night shift."

Sometimes the most faithful thing we can do is pause long enough to appreciate what has already happened.

The ribbon is cut.

The team is ready.

And I'm grateful I got to be there.

The Circle Keeps Growing

 Stardate: 08.06.2026

Golden Hour arrived a little later today.

Our schedule shifted because tonight is a special evening celebrating the opening of a new building. I'll spend part of the night serving cake while many of our newest employees have the opportunity to meet senior leaders. I find myself looking forward to watching those conversations unfold.

As I prayed this morning, my thoughts settled on the Serenity Prayer.

For many years, one line carried me through difficult seasons.

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change..."

That prayer brought peace when life felt uncertain. There were seasons when accepting what I couldn't control was exactly what I needed to learn.

This morning another part of the prayer quietly found its way into my heart.

"The courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

Over time, I have discovered that my ability to influence others has grown in ways I never expected.

A conversation.

An encouraging word.

An idea shared with the right person.

Helping a new employee feel welcomed on the first day.

Teaching a company culture that has blessed my own life.

None of those moments seem particularly significant by themselves.

Years later, they begin to form a pattern.

Stephen Covey often wrote about focusing our energy on the things within our circle of influence. I understand that idea a little differently today than I did years ago. My circle hasn't grown because of a title. It has grown because God has entrusted me with more opportunities to serve faithfully.

That realization brings a quiet responsibility.

Every conversation matters.

Every person matters.

Every ordinary day carries the possibility of encouraging someone who may one day encourage thousands more.

I don't know what tonight will bring.

I simply hope to be present, grateful, and ready for whatever conversations God places in front of me.

"Commit your work to the Lord, and your plans will be established."
— Proverbs 16:3 (ESV)

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Thank you for walking this journey with me. I hope you discover that your own circle of influence may be larger than you realize.

Captain's Addendum

Spock: Michael, influence appears to expand in direct proportion to consistent acts of service.

Bones: I was going to say people trust the fellow who keeps showing up and helping. Sometimes science and common sense arrive at the same destination.

Michael: Today reminded me that wisdom isn't measured by how much control we have. It often grows one faithful conversation at a time.

The Work Before the Ribbon

 Stardate: 08.05.2026

This morning began the way I hoped it would.

Sleep gave way to quiet prayer. Meditation settled my thoughts before the day gathered momentum. My sleep report wasn't as strong as usual, although that wasn't a surprise. Our schedule has shifted this week to make room for family time, and I wouldn't trade those moments. Life has seasons. Over time, things find their balance.

Tomorrow morning, we'll gather outside a brand-new building. A ribbon will be stretched across the entrance. There will be smiles, photographs, speeches, and a community eager to see what has been taking shape over the past several months.

My thoughts kept returning to the people.

I thought about the teammates who have poured themselves into preparing every detail. I thought about the member who will walk through the front doors for the very first time. Somewhere tomorrow, someone will arrive carrying a burden that isn't visible. Another person may simply need a smile or a kind word before continuing with their day.

I hope I notice them.

Those moments rarely make the schedule.

They often become the reason we were there in the first place.

Looking back over the stories I've shared these past several days, I can see a thread I didn't recognize while living them. A prayer tucked inside a wallet. An unexpected conversation. A door that opened at just the right time. Small moments that quietly reminded me God is already at work long before we notice.

Tomorrow's ribbon will mark the beginning of something new for our community.

The work that matters most has already been unfolding through countless conversations, acts of encouragement, and ordinary moments of serving others with joy.

This morning I prayed a simple prayer.

"Lord, let every person I meet today leave with a little more hope than they had before we met."

"Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven." — Matthew 5:16 (NIV)

If you've enjoyed walking this journey with me, I'd be honored if you continued traveling alongside us.

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Thank you for spending a few moments with me today. May you discover that some of life's most meaningful work happens quietly, long before anyone applauds.

Captain's Addendum

Spock: "Michael, history often remembers the ribbon. Logic suggests the preparation deserved equal attention."

Bones: "Tomorrow folks will see a building. You'll be watching for the people who walk through the doors. That's always been your habit."

I smiled as I packed my things for another full day. Tomorrow may begin with a ceremony, yet today is filled with opportunities to encourage someone along the way. Those quiet encounters are often where God chooses to meet us.

Before the Ribbon

 Stardate: 08.04.2026

My day began long before the sun came up.

Ninety minutes of prayer and meditation gave me the quiet I needed before stepping into another full day away from home. My sleep tracker showed some of the best deep and REM sleep I've had in a while. I smiled when I saw the numbers, not because they were perfect, but because they reminded me that preparation often begins long before we realize it.

In two days, our team will welcome a new community through the doors of a new building. There will be a ribbon stretched across the entrance. Local leaders will gather. Cameras will capture the smiles. It will be a wonderful celebration.

As I thought about that this morning, another ribbon came to mind.

Back home, the volunteer board I've been privileged to serve with is moving closer to building new pickleball courts for our community. One day there will be another ribbon to cut. Children will play. Friends will gather. New players will discover a game that has brought so much joy into my own life.

I don't know if I'll be there for that ceremony.

My assignment may carry me somewhere else before that day arrives.

That thought didn't leave me disappointed.

It left me grateful.

Every ribbon marks the end of a season of unseen work.

Long before the photographs are taken, someone has attended meetings. Someone has answered questions. Someone has moved one small piece forward when nobody was watching. Those quiet moments rarely receive applause, yet they become part of every celebration that follows.

This week I've been reminded how much can happen through simple conversations, willing hands, and people who choose to serve wherever they are needed. The work itself has become its own reward.

The ribbon simply gives everyone a reason to pause and celebrate what faithful people have already been building.

"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 (NIV)

Wherever your work finds you today, remember that not every meaningful contribution receives public recognition. Many of the most important things we build are measured in trust, kindness, patience, and quiet perseverance.

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Thank you for walking this journey with me. May God give you the grace to keep building, even when the ribbon is still somewhere in the future.

Captain's Addendum

Bones: "Michael, you do realize people usually wait for the ribbon before they start celebrating."

Spock: "Doctor, the ceremony is merely the visible conclusion. The true accomplishment has already occurred through many faithful acts that preceded it."

Michael: I smiled. Most of life is lived before the ribbon. Today reminded me that every quiet act of service becomes part of something much larger than we can see.

The Prayer in Peter's Wallet

Stardate: 08.03.2026

Every person who walks through our doors carries a story.

Yesterday reminded me that if I'm willing to slow down and listen, God often reveals far more than I ever expected.

Peter and Laura stopped by because they live across the street from our new building. Peter wasn't there to exchange pleasantries. He came with concerns.

A lot of them.

After spending more than thirty years testing water throughout Wisconsin, protecting watersheds had become more than a career. It had become part of his calling. He had even stood before City Hall, warning officials that they were violating the city's watershed protection plan. From his perspective, a large new development in his neighborhood deserved careful scrutiny.

I understood.

So I listened.

I let Peter finish every thought before responding. When he had shared everything on his mind, I promised him that each concern would be addressed.

The atmosphere changed.

The conversation that began with uncertainty slowly became a conversation built on trust.

Then Laura shared something I never saw coming.

Her family traces its roots to the Lyon, one of the first ships to arrive in America after the Mayflower. Through that family line came Roger Williams, whose unwavering commitment to religious liberty helped shape the spiritual foundation of our nation.

I found myself marveling at how an ordinary conversation could suddenly stretch across four centuries of American history.

But God wasn't finished.

Peter reached into his wallet and carefully removed one of his most treasured possessions.

It wasn't a credit card.

It wasn't a driver's license.

It was a photograph.

Years ago, Peter was diagnosed with lymphoma. During that difficult season, his granddaughter Hannah, then just a little girl, knelt beside her bed and prayed that God would heal her grandpa.

Peter carries that photograph in his wallet as a reminder that God answered her prayer.

Today, Peter shares the Gospel with prisoners, giving away the hope that was first poured into his own life.

As he shared his testimony, I felt prompted to ask something unusual.

"Would Hannah pray for our entire team?"

Not a vague prayer.

A specific prayer.

Without hesitation, Peter reached for a pen and carefully wrote down my prayer request. He promised that when he saw seven-year-old Hannah, he would place that request in her hands.

For a moment I sat quietly, thinking about the privilege of inviting a child to join God's work through prayer.

Then came one final surprise.

Before Peter and Laura left, Peter reached out, took our hands, and prayed over our team. His words were rooted in the very Scriptures I had been meditating on—Isaiah 61 and Jesus' reading of that passage in Luke 4:18–19. Hearing those promises spoken aloud by a man whose life had been touched by God's healing gave them a depth I had never experienced before.

When the prayer ended, I realized something.

Peter and Laura had arrived with questions.

I thought my role was to serve them.

Instead, they had ministered to us.

They'll be joining us for Friday morning's ribbon-cutting ceremony, where I hope to introduce them to members of our senior leadership team. I'm looking forward to that introduction.

But the introduction I'll remember most has already happened.

Yesterday, God introduced me to a grandfather who carries a photograph instead of a trophy.

To a little girl whose prayers still echo years later.

To a family whose story stretches from the Lyon to the present day.

And to the quiet reminder that God's blessings are never meant to stop with us.

They are meant to be carried.

"The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."
— Luke 4:18–19 (NIV)

Yesterday those words stepped off the page.

Good news became a conversation.

Healing became a testimony.

Freedom became a grandfather who now shares Christ with prisoners.

Comfort became a little girl whose prayer is still blessing people she has never met.

God's mission wasn't unfolding from a pulpit.

It was unfolding around a table.

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Captain's Addendum

Bones: "Michael, in all my years, I've learned never to underestimate the faith of a child. I've watched medicine do remarkable things, but I've also seen prayer carry people farther than anyone can explain."

Spock: "An understandable conclusion, Doctor. While the mechanism may remain beyond scientific measurement, the results are difficult to dismiss. Hope has a measurable effect upon the human spirit."

Bones: "You know, Spock...every now and then you make a preacher nervous."

Spock: "Only because the evidence continues to support the conclusion."

I smiled as I imagined the two of them walking down the corridor together.

Peter may have carried a photograph in his wallet, but what he truly carried was gratitude. Hannah offered a simple prayer years ago, and Peter has spent every day since passing that gift forward.

Yesterday reminded me that the blessings God places in our hands are rarely meant to stay there. They become part of someone else's story, often long before we realize it.

Thank you for walking this journey with me.

Live long. Prosper in purpose. Walk boldly in His love.

Open Door

 Stardate 08.02.2026

Yesterday began with a simple decision.

Since I'm away from home on assignment, I studied my schedule to see if there was an opportunity to attend Mass with Helen. There was only one opening. I asked if I could leave work a few minutes early, and everything came together.

It reminded me that making room for God doesn't always require a major change. Sometimes it begins with protecting a small space in an otherwise busy day.

Worshiping beside Helen was the gift I needed. The readings invited me to look again at the compassion of Jesus. Before He met people's physical needs, He saw them. He welcomed them. He made time for them.

After Mass, we found a family restaurant neither of us had visited before. We lingered over a simple meal, enjoyed each other's company, and let the pace of the day slow down. There wasn't anything remarkable about the restaurant itself.

The time together was the gift.

Later that afternoon, as I was preparing to leave, someone I had only recently met stopped me with an unexpected request.

"Would you pray for me?"

For a brief moment, everything else faded into the background.

I told him I would.

As I drove home, I couldn't help but think about how the day had unfolded. I had adjusted my schedule so I could spend time with God. Somewhere along the way, God quietly prepared me to be present for someone else.

I don't know where that conversation will lead.

I simply know that today I'll have another opportunity to serve.

Doors don't always open with grand announcements. Sometimes they open with a quiet question, an ordinary conversation, or a simple request for prayer. We don't have to force them open. We only need the willingness to walk through them.

"When he disembarked and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them...'" — Mark 6:34

Jesus noticed people before He taught them. He loved them before He led them. That's the pattern I hope to follow, one encounter at a time.

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Captain's Addendum

Bones: "Michael, you keep expecting the important moments to arrive with a fanfare."

Spock: "Experience suggests they usually arrive disguised as ordinary conversations."

Bones: "Then I'd keep listening if I were you."

Yesterday reminded me that God often opens doors quietly. My job isn't to push them open. It's to recognize them with gratitude, step through with faith, and serve the person waiting on the other side.

Thank you for spending a few moments with me today. I hope you'll notice an open door in your own journey, however quietly it appears.

Someone Who Knew

 Stardate 08.01.2026

Every day on this assignment has introduced me to someone new.

Yesterday it was a teammate whose role had been limited by an injury. She couldn't do all the physical work yet, so we spent some time together in our temporary office as we welcomed new members.

Whenever I meet someone for the first time, I enjoy hearing their story.

She told me she had spent most of her career in sales. The part that caught my attention came later. She had been a licensed real estate agent and, more importantly, a productivity coach for a major real estate company. Her work wasn't simply selling homes. She helped successful agents become even better at what they did.

That immediately changed the way I listened.

People who spend years helping others reach their potential often notice things the rest of us overlook.

As we talked, she mentioned she had been quietly watching me interact with our new teammates throughout the day.

Curious, I asked, "How am I doing?"

Without hesitation she smiled and said, "You were born to do this."

Her words caught me off guard.

Then I laughed and told her I probably picked up my gift of gab years ago when I kissed the Blarney Stone in Ireland. Helen warned me not to do it because she insisted I didn't need any more blarney.

She may have been right.

We both laughed.

As the conversation settled, I found myself grateful—not simply because of the encouragement, but because of who it came from.

God has a remarkable way of placing people in our path at exactly the right time. Sometimes they offer practical help. Sometimes they share wisdom. And occasionally, they help us see a gift we've become so accustomed to using that we've forgotten it is a gift at all.

I'm thankful our paths crossed.

I have a feeling her greatest contributions are still ahead of her once she fully recovers. I'll be cheering her on from the sidelines.

"Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing."
— 1 Thessalonians 5:11

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Thank you for spending a few moments with me today. I hope someone crosses your path this week with just the right words at just the right time.

Captain's Addendum

Bones: "Michael, you know, not everyone gets a career review from someone who's spent a lifetime spotting potential."

Spock: "Indeed. Encouragement carries unusual credibility when offered by one who has devoted a career to recognizing the strengths of others."

I smiled as I thought about our conversation. Sometimes God sends exactly the right person at exactly the right moment, and all that's left to do is say, "Thank You."

The Power of Two

 Stardate 07.31.2026

Sometimes the best days aren't marked by one extraordinary event. They're built from a series of ordinary moments that all go right—a safe arrival, meaningful work, good food, a walk hand in hand, and gratitude for being exactly where God has placed you.

Yesterday was one of those days.

As I reflected on everything that happened, one simple idea kept returning to my mind.

The power of two.

Scripture has always fascinated me on this point. When Jesus sent His followers out, He sent them two by two. There was wisdom in that approach. Encouragement travels well when someone is walking beside you.

Yesterday didn't begin that way.

An unexpected rush meant our team needed to spread out to help as many people as possible. Working alone was simply what the moment required.

Later in the afternoon, the opportunity changed.

I was paired with a supervisor who wanted to learn a process I know well. I asked if she wanted to take the lead while I supported her.

She smiled and admitted she'd rather watch first.

A few minutes later, a recently retired couple came over. As we talked, I learned the husband had served as a pastor for forty years. They arrived with a clear idea of what they wanted, but as our conversation unfolded, another possibility came into view.

The pastor listened carefully while doing what many loving husbands naturally do. He was looking out for his wife.

His wife leaned in.

She asked thoughtful questions.

Her excitement grew as she understood the options available to them.

With a grin, the pastor looked at me and said he thought he was beginning to lose his protection status.

I laughed.

"I think you are," I replied. "She's getting excited."

By the end of our conversation, they chose a path they hadn't expected when they first walked over.

After they left, my teammate looked at me with genuine surprise.

She wasn't surprised by the outcome as much as she was by the conversation itself—how trust had been built one question, one answer, and one smile at a time.

I smiled and shared something I've believed for years.

"See one. Do one. Teach one."

She nodded.

The lesson had landed.

As I drove away later that evening, I thought about the day as a whole.

A safe arrival.

Meaningful work.

Dinner with Helen.

A quiet walk together.

One ordinary day filled with moments that pointed back to God's goodness.

None of those moments demanded attention on their own.

Together, they became a beautiful reminder that God often works through people who are willing to walk alongside one another.

Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.
— Ecclesiastes 4:9–10

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Thank you for spending a few moments of your day with me. I hope you find someone to encourage today—and someone who encourages you in return.

Captain's Addendum

Bones: "Michael, I still say teaching someone while helping a retired pastor change his mind sounds like an exhausting afternoon."

Spock: "On the contrary, Doctor. Trust is often grows through patient observation before confident action."

Bones: "Well, however you explain it, two people working together accomplished more than either would have alone."

I smiled at that thought.

Yesterday reminded me that sometimes we're the teacher. Sometimes we're the student. Every so often, God lets us be both on the very same day.

The Baseline

Stardate 07.30.2026

Yesterday I shared the story of walking through the wrong door.

I didn't realize that story was only half finished.

I had arrived for a scheduled float therapy session during one of my days of rest and restoration. While looking for the entrance, I accidentally walked into the neighboring business, DexaFit, owned by Adam and Jessica Kuchnia.

After apologizing for interrupting their day, I started visiting with Jessica. She shared a little about what they do and explained one of their services—a DEXA scan.

I was intrigued.

The challenge was my schedule. I was away from home on assignment and couldn't promise I'd be available another day.

Jessica smiled.

"We can do it now."

That simple act of kindness changed the course of my afternoon.

A few minutes later, I found myself lying quietly on the scanner while it gathered information I had never seen before.

When the scan was complete, Jessica carefully walked me through each section of the report. We talked about body composition, bone density, visceral fat, muscle mass, and several other measurements that offered a clearer picture of my health than a bathroom scale ever could.

Then we arrived at one number that made me pause.

Biological Age: 73.

I'm 66 years old.

I sat quietly with that number.

The report wasn't offering a prediction. It was giving me a starting point.

I've spent much of this year trying to become a healthier version of myself. Daily walks. Better sleep. Strength training. My ongoing sardine experiment. Small choices that I hope will add up over time.

Now I have a baseline.

One day I'll return for another scan and discover what has changed. Until then, I'll keep showing up and doing the next right thing. Healthy habits rarely attract much attention. They quietly shape the future.

As I reflected on the experience later that evening, I found myself thinking less about the numbers and more about the people behind them.

Adam and Jessica Kuchnia welcomed a complete stranger who had wandered through the wrong door. They answered my questions, made room in their schedule, and treated me with genuine kindness.

If you happen to be in the Madison area and have been curious about your own health baseline, I can honestly recommend paying them a visit. At the time of my appointment, new customers could receive a DEXA scan for $99.

You'll find DexaFit at 376 Junction Road in Madison, Wisconsin.

Kindness has a way of leaving a lasting impression.

"Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom."
— Psalm 90:12

If you've been enjoying these daily reflections, you're always welcome to join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Thank you for spending a few moments with me today.

I hope you'll welcome the unexpected opportunities that come your way. Some of life's most meaningful moments begin with a door you never intended to open.

Captain's Addendum

Spock: "Michael, every mission begins with accurate readings. The data simply tells us where the journey starts."

Bones: "Just promise me you won't spend all day studying the report. You've got another chapter to write."

I smiled as I imagined the conversation.

Yesterday the wrong door led to an unexpected meeting.

Today, I'm thankful I walked through it.

Stardate 07.29.2026

The Wrong Door

Stardate 07.29.2026

Some days don't go according to plan.

I've learned those are often the days God does His best work.

My mission yesterday was simple: rest and restoration. After spending five busy days away from home, I had been intentionally using my four days off to recharge before the next climb. On my final day of rest, I began with a relaxing soak in the jacuzzi before driving to an appointment that included an hour in a float tank followed by forty minutes in an infrared sauna.

When I arrived, I walked up to the reception desk to check in.

The receptionist searched for my appointment.

Nothing.

I pulled up my confirmation email on my phone, and she smiled.

"I think you're in the wrong suite."

She pointed me next door.

Before leaving, curiosity got the better of me.

"So...what do you do here?"

"We do DEXA scans," Jessica replied.

That immediately caught my attention.

Some of my tennis teammates recently announced a fitness challenge. Everyone who wants to participate contributes $100, but there's one requirement: complete a DEXA body composition scan before the challenge begins on August 1. The winner takes the pot.

I smiled.

"I'll be back."

The float tank and infrared sauna were every bit as restorative as I had hoped. During the hour in the float tank, I spent the entire session in prayer and meditation. By the time the lights came back on, I felt as though time had simply disappeared. I walked out refreshed, grateful, and convinced I had accomplished exactly what I had come to do.

Then I returned next door.

The scan itself was fascinating. It measured much more than body weight. Afterward, Jessica sat down with me to review the results.

One of the assessments estimated my biological age at 73.

That number didn't discourage me.

It gave me a baseline.

Over the past year, I've been paying closer attention to my health. My weight has come down. My sleep continues to improve. I'm in the middle of a ninety-day sardine experiment to see how increasing my Omega-3 intake affects my long-term health.

Now I had another piece of the puzzle.

Jessica patiently explained the areas where I could improve and offered practical suggestions for raising my health score over time.

I left encouraged.

Before walking out, I shared a little about my writing and my mission to donate every dollar of my book royalties to University of Iowa Stead Family Children's Hospital. I asked Jessica if I could take a photo of her and her husband, Adam, and I gave them a couple of my books.

That's when the story took one final turn.

Jessica told me her day hadn't been going well.

Before I arrived, she had quietly prayed.

As we wrapped up our conversation, she smiled and told me my visit had lifted her spirits.

I smiled too.

I had walked through the wrong door, yet somehow we both left encouraged.

This morning I woke before dawn after one of the best nights of sleep I've had in quite some time. During more than an hour of meditation, I found myself reflecting on the previous nine days—the five-day assignment followed by four days devoted to rest and restoration. The rest had renewed my body. The honest measurements had given me a starting point. The unexpected conversations had encouraged my spirit.

It reminded me of climbing a mountain.

You don't stop at base camp because the journey is over.

You stop there so you're ready for the ascent ahead.

In about two months, I'll travel to London to spend time with my friends at DoNotAge and have the opportunity to meet the founder of the Horvath Clock. Looking back, it feels as though God has been preparing each step long before I could see where the trail was leading.

Sometimes the wrong door opens exactly the right path.

"Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom."
— Psalm 90:12 (NIV)

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

Thank you for walking this journey with me. May we all continue taking small, faithful steps toward better health, deeper purpose, and the next climb ahead.

Captain's Addendum

Spock: "Michael, accurate measurements are valuable only when they inspire meaningful action."

Bones: "And don't forget to appreciate that body of yours. It's carried you through more adventures than most people ever dream of."

I smiled as I considered both observations. Yesterday wasn't about finding perfect numbers. It was about preparing for whatever mission God places before me next, one faithful step at a time.

Mission Clock

Stardate 07.28.2026

This morning I found a name for something I have been thinking about for a long time.

Mission Clock.

My retirement date is July 5, 2030. I have carried that date with me as a milestone for several years. It represents a significant transition in my life, and I have been preparing for it one day at a time.

The funny thing is, life has already started giving me glimpses of what comes next.

During these warehouse openings, I have been learning what it feels like to live away from home for extended periods. I am discovering new rhythms, meeting new people, and finding opportunities to serve wherever I am placed.

My wife has been part of this adventure as well. When she joins me on these travels, we get another chance to experience what life on the road might look like someday.

Lucy has become part of that vision.

The van project started as a practical idea. Over time, it has become something more meaningful. Lucy represents exploration, flexibility, and the freedom to discover what the next chapter holds.

My writing continues to be part of my daily rhythm. The books I have created continue supporting University of Iowa Stead Family Children's Hospital. The lessons I have learned through my career continue shaping how I encourage others.

The pieces are coming together.

A few years ago, I would have viewed these as separate paths.

Today, I see a mission taking shape.

That is why I chose the name Mission Clock.

Captain Kirk's five-year mission aboard the Enterprise became something much larger than anyone originally imagined. The original journey continued through new stories, new crews, and new adventures.

One mission opened the door for another.

That idea feels familiar.

Every season of life prepares us for the next one.

Mission One has been filled with family, faith, work, friendships, challenges, growth, and countless opportunities to help others.

Mission Two will arrive in its own time.

Until then, the Mission Clock reminds me to stay present.

There are still people to encourage.

There are still stories to write.

There are still lessons to learn.

There are still memories waiting to be created with Helen.

Every day is part of the journey.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

The Mission Clock continues moving forward.

I am grateful for every mile traveled, every person encountered, and every opportunity to become one percent better.

Captain's Addendum

Bones: "Michael, I still don't understand why you needed a special clock. You already have plenty of clocks."

Spock: "Doctor, this clock measures preparation, purpose, and the passage toward a new mission."

Bones: "Well, Michael, as long as you remember to enjoy the current mission, I suppose it serves a purpose."

Michael: "That is the reminder I need. The journey matters as much as the destination."

Captain's Log: Mission Clock updated. The voyage continues.

Join me here:

https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong