CARE
- stephterell
- Feb 7
- 2 min read
Updated: Mar 15

I once worked for a company that began one of its training videos with the question: “What drives care?” As the video played, showcasing their reasons for caring, I found myself zoning out—half-watching their montage while daydreaming about what came next. The repetition felt dull, and I couldn’t help but reflect on the irony of their question: They cared, sure. But I needed to understand why. Did their reasons align with mine? Did their definition of care resonate with me, or was it just noise?

In a world where my curiosity often propels me forward, I’ve learned that answering questions—especially the ones that unsettle me—can transform discomfort into healing and unanswered thoughts into beautiful poems or closed chapters. When I think about what drives care, I trace my steps back to the moments when I stopped caring. What brought me to that point? Could I rediscover that space again? And if I could, would my spirit find rest there?

Life is unpredictable. We live longer, fuller lives than ever before, which means we wrestle with complex emotions that demand introspection. To understand what drives our desire to care, we must look at ourselves—our past, our present, and our hopes for the future. In this journey, we uncover the need for balance: between work and life, effort and rest, knowing and feeling.

Many of us are constantly putting in the work—whether we realize it or not. But it’s important to pause, to acknowledge our efforts, and to decide what truly matters once we have all the information. This awareness creates a bridge between knowing we’re good and feeling we’re good.

When we achieve this harmony—this trust between mind, body, and spirit—we build an unbreakable foundation. Life’s curveballs may rock us, but they won’t topple us. With an unshakable core, we can continue to care—for others, for our work, and, most importantly, for ourselves.




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