HeyJaredBetween Stories
Essays on reinvention, identity, and navigating the space between who you were and what comes next.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 7
- Latest publication
- Sep 29, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 7, 2026
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Your Future Self Never Signed the Page (opens the original)
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Plans are nice. You can see where they start and where they’re going. The path between the two points looks nice and simple too. We think we can follow it.We can’t.Nothing in life is set in stone. No plan can account for every variable that may arise.We still need a plan. It’s nice to know what you’re heading towards. It allows you to filter what you will say yes to, no to and spend your time on.Just keep your plan close to the life you are actually living.<p cla
Motion Is Not Direction (opens the original)
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It was February 2002. I had only been in Cape Town for a few weeks.I was twenty-five and living in a tiny Victorian cottage in Upper Woodstock. My bedroom had crooked floorboards, a broken veranda and a single desk. Outside my window was Devil’s Peak.Film school had started but honestly, it didn’t much feel like school. It mostly felt like permission. Permission to start again. Permission to invent a life that bore no resemblance to the one I’d left in Germany.When I wasn’t studying (and often w
What Are You Functioning For? (opens the original)
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One morning I was standing at my desk when I understood how small my life had become. There was nothing overtly dramatic about it. Just me and a laptop and a mug of cold coffee and a to-do list.Send the email. Pay the invoice. Call the client. Move on.My wife had told me to leave home. I’d moved into a friend’s holiday apartment south of Frankfurt and was still kidding myself that this was temporary. My suitcase was half-unpacked.So I stopped looking further ahead than was necessary.<p clas
How Peak Experiences Change the Direction of Your Life (opens the original)
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That’s how one of them began, anyway.I was in the Karoo, the semi-desert heart of South Africa. It was a low point. My marriage was falling apart. We hadn’t officially divorced but we weren’t married in any real sense either.I’d recently stopped wearing my wedding ring. First only in private, alone in the cottage I was living in. Then later that night publicly, too, when I pushed through the restaurant door to meet friends just before the New Year’s celebration with my hand nakedly bare. It had
The Story We Learn to Believe (opens the original)
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Imagine that you text someone close to you. You send the message and hear nothing back. After a while, minutes stretch into hours. Before you know what’s happened, your mind has already started working.They’re avoiding me.They’re upset.They don’t care about me as much as I thought they did.The phone rings the next day. There was an explanation for the silence; one that had nothing to do with you. But your mind didn’t wait for the facts to arrive. It took the limited information it
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