Why Self-Awareness Is Good for the World
And why I look forward to cleaning up mouse sh*t
Every June I come back to Maine and clean up the mess left behind by winter.
Mouse droppings in the corners. Cobwebs spun confidently across the rafters. Tree limbs both large and small strewn across the property from fierce storms that blow hard from Canada. Pine needles blanketing the roof like it’s their job. And in a way, it is. Everything here operates on instinct. The trees don’t perform. The mice don’t apologize. No one is overthinking their brand.
I put on gloves, an old pair of jeans, and get to work. Broom, bucket, breath. It’s not glamorous, but it grounds me. I lose myself in the rhythm of it. Then find myself again as I stop to drink water and look at the lake through the trees.
I don’t always talk about this part of my life. The manual labor. The stewardship. The stillness. But lately I’ve been thinking: this is where my self-awareness lives. Not in a course. Not in a caption. Not in some AI-generated listicle about “how to be your best self.”
Here. Sweeping. Scrubbing. Listening. Choosing.
That’s what self-awareness really is. A choice. To pay attention instead of drifting. To respond instead of react. To tell yourself the truth, even when it’s inconvenient. Or hard.
And no, it doesn’t make you famous. Or rich. Or algorithmically blessed.
But it does make you useful.
Which, in a world on fire, feels like a miracle.
We don’t talk enough about the cost of self-avoidance. We see its symptoms everywhere: sharp words exchanged on platforms dripping with sarcasm and perpetual disappointment. People ghosting each other when feelings get too close, or intense. A slow, withering withdrawal from real life because showing up takes too much energy.
But we don’t name the root often enough. It’s not that people are broken. It’s that they’ve stopped tuning in. They’re running on scripts, not signals. Algorithms, not intuition.
Those of us who are tuning in and doing the unsexy work of noticing our patterns, questioning our assumptions, and making small better choices day after day feel it when we’re met with blank stares or cheap jokes. The ache of wanting connection and getting dismissal instead.
I’ve come to believe self-awareness is a quiet form of leadership. It doesn't trend. It doesn’t sell. But it heals.
It heals me.
And when I’m more healed, I cause less harm.
So if you ask me why self-awareness is good for the world, I’ll say this:
Because it stabilizes people like me.
Because it softens what would otherwise harden.
Because the energy I bring into a room and a conversation and a life isn’t reactionary. It’s intentional.
Because the mouse droppings won’t clean themselves. And neither will we.