The Walk

A few days ago, I went for a long walk. No phone. No recorder. Just me and the quiet of the woods. That’s unusual for me. Normally, I’m always recording something — podcast episodes, course materials, you name it. But that day, I needed to step back. Why? Because I was burning myself out. Trying to keep up with my own routines, like cranking out five podcast episodes a week, just because I set that standard for myself. It’s great to have goals, but the constant push to achieve them was making me feel like a machine. Here's what I’ve started to realize: ☑ It’s not about output. It’s about effort. ↳ Pushing yourself to hit a goal often leads to burnout. ↳ Focusing on consistent effort, no matter how small, brings progress. ☑ Curiosity over judgment. ↳ Instead of berating yourself for not meeting expectations, ask: Why couldn't I? ↳ This simple, curious question unlocks real solutions. ☑ You don’t have to be perfect. ↳ Embrace where you are today. ↳ Stop letting your worth depend on measurable results. ☑ Find peace in the journey, not the outcome. ↳ Happiness doesn’t magically appear at the end of the road. ↳ It starts by embracing where you are right now. This Lent, I’m trying something different: Instead of rigid rules and unrealistic goals, I’m focusing on the journey itself. Taking small steps. Allowing myself to be human. What helps you find balance when life gets overwhelming?

03-25

43:02

Lately, I've been wrestling with a big question: How do I stay truly me in the content I create? I've spent years fine-tuning my videos, optimizing my titles, and chasing the perfect format. I even bought a teleprompter to keep my scripts structured and my delivery polished. But something strange happened—the more "perfect" my videos became, the less people seemed to care. Then, a funny thing happened. I uploaded a relaxed, off-the-cuff segment from a live stream—just me talking about my favorite books with zero scripting, zero polish, and no overthinking. And guess what? It took off. People loved it. What does this tell me? People crave real conversations more than perfectly structured content. Authenticity builds connections in ways no algorithm can replicate. Being too polished can actually make content feel less engaging. This realization is making me rethink my approach. Maybe I don’t need to be the perfect "media expert" or script every word. Maybe what truly resonates is just being myself—whether I’m talking about books, faith, geek culture, or anything in between. So, here’s my experiment for Lent: Less scripting, more storytelling. Less optimization, more connection. Less algorithm-chasing, more community-building. What do you think? Have you noticed this shift in your own online experience? Let’s talk.

03-18

36:29

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on my relationship with social media and content creation. For years, I measured success in numbers—views, likes, followers. But I’ve come to realize that the most valuable interactions aren’t the ones the algorithm prioritizes. They’re the small, meaningful conversations, the real connections that enrich my life and, hopefully, the lives of others. This Lent, I’ve taken a step back from platforms like Facebook and Instagram. Instead of doom-scrolling through AI-curated feeds, I’ve shifted my focus to intentional engagement—replying to people I genuinely care about, building relationships rather than chasing reach. And you know what? It’s working. I feel lighter, less distracted, and more in tune with what truly matters. That shift has extended to my creative process as well. For the longest time, I put immense pressure on myself to "perform" every time I recorded a podcast or made a video. I’d start recording, feel like I wasn’t delivering something polished enough, and delete the whole thing—sometimes multiple times. But I’m learning to let go of that pressure. To embrace a more authentic, unfiltered way of sharing. Instead of obsessing over reach, I’m prioritizing depth of connection. Instead of worrying about perfection, I’m focusing on showing up as myself. Instead of chasing numbers, I’m choosing to trust the process. This shift has even influenced how I approach my book-writing journey. I recently came across a writer on TikTok who shares his fantasy story chapter by chapter with his readers. He’s not waiting for the perfect launch or obsessing over marketing strategies—he’s inviting people into the process. And I love that. It’s something I want to explore for my own book, creating a space where people can engage with the story as it unfolds. At the end of the day, whether it’s social media, podcasting, or writing, what truly matters is sharing the best of ourselves, not the most of ourselves. If this resonates with you, I’d love for you to join the conversation. Walk with me on this journey by listening to the latest podcast episode. Let’s discover together how shifting our focus from numbers to relationships can transform the way we create, connect, and live.

03-11

41:25

Every year, as Lent begins, the question always comes up: What are you giving up? For many, it’s sweets, coffee, or social media. This year, I’m making a bigger decision—I’m stepping away from Meta entirely. That means no more Facebook, Instagram, Threads or WhatsApp. Why? Because I’ve been paying attention to what’s happening with these platforms, and it doesn’t sit right with me anymore. With Meta scaling back moderation, prioritizing profit and growth over user well-being and social responsibility, and turning my timeline into a mess of ads and AI-generated junk, I realized: This isn’t a place I want to be anymore. At first, I hesitated. Facebook is a big way I stay in touch with parishioners and promote my content. But then I looked at the numbers. All my efforts—posting daily, creating polished graphics, engaging with people—didn’t actually increase my reach or podcast audience. It wasn’t helping me, and worse, I felt stuck there out of obligation. So I decided: This Lent, I’m taking a step back. Instead of passively feeding Meta’s business model, I’m investing my time in channels that help me reach new people and grow community, like BlueSky, Mastodon, YouTube, Discord and my own website. Will I miss the Meta platform? Maybe. But I think it will be freeing. Lent isn’t just about giving something up; it’s about making room for something better. Maybe this is a good time for all of us to reflect: Is social media enriching my life, or is it just consuming my time? 🎧 Listen to the full episode for more thoughts on this, plus reflections on Lent, digital detoxing, and how we can reclaim our attention.Fr. RoderickP.S. Join my Discord community if you would like to share your thoughts about the programs that I make: https://discord.gg/ucQmZ6uj2V

03-04

29:10

Today, while walking in the woods, I noticed something simple yet profound. I watched dog owners and their playful pups, and it struck me how the dogs react to a little conflict. Whether they choose to run away, bark back, or simply surrender by rolling over, their behavior reminded me of the choices we face in our own lives. I couldn’t help but recall my own past—times when I felt bullied and alone, caught between the urge to fight and the pressure to give in. Over time, I learned that standing up for what’s right isn’t about matching aggression. It’s about listening to your inner moral compass and acting with courage. In my journey of faith, I’ve come to see that: Running away is sometimes necessary for self-care. Fighting back can mean defending your values without compromising who you are. Surrendering isn’t weakness—it can be a strategic choice when you decide to save your energy for what truly matters. This reflection also made me rethink the famous gospel message of “turning the other cheek.” At first, I saw it as a call to simply submit. But now I understand it as a challenge to be stronger—to stand up for others and for myself by holding onto a higher set of values. It’s like the rebellion in Star Wars: the moral strength of a few can tip the scales against overwhelming odds. I’m sharing these thoughts because I believe that in today’s world, where injustice and bullying are still all too common, knowing your values and standing firm can change everything. If you ever feel torn between fighting back and giving in, remember there’s a third way—trust your inner strength and let it guide you.

02-24

31:40

When I prepared for my first marathon, I thought the hardest part would be the race itself—the 42 kilometers of relentless forward motion. Turns out, I was wrong. The real challenge? Learning when not to run. Like many, I believed pushing harder was always the answer. More training, faster miles, less rest. But my worst injuries, both in running and in life, came not from taking breaks—but from ignoring the need for them. Pushing through can be good—but knowing when to step back is even better. Rest isn’t weakness, it’s strategy. The hardest part of balance isn’t finding it—it’s giving yourself permission to keep it. This applies far beyond running. In work, faith, and personal growth, we often treat slowing down as failure. But in reality, knowing when to pause is what keeps us moving forward. I share more about this in my latest podcast episode, reflecting on lessons from running, burnout, and even my time in seminary. If you’ve ever struggled with giving yourself permission to rest, this one’s for you.

02-19

38:48

I remember standing in Glendalough, the valley of two lakes in Ireland. The air was crisp, the landscape bathed in that soft Irish light, and the echoes of ancient footsteps seemed to linger in the stillness. Centuries ago, a young man named Kevin stood where I had stood. Born into privilege, he walked away from it all to live in solitude, seeking God in the wild beauty of that valley. But solitude didn’t last. People found him, drawn by the authenticity of a man who wasn’t trying to lead… but ended up leading anyway. His story stuck with me because, well, isn’t that life? We seek peace, but people find us. We run from expectations, only to stumble into purpose. Sometimes, saying yes to the unknown is the bravest thing we do. Saint Kevin didn’t set out to start a community. But he did. Not through strategy, but sincerity. Not by force, but by simply showing up, fully present in his calling. I shared more about Kevin, Glendalough, and what they taught me about purpose and presence in my latest podcast episode. Maybe it’ll resonate with you, especially if you’re standing at your own crossroads.  

02-10

38:01

I was standing at the foot of Croagh Patrick, a rugged mountain in Ireland where St. Patrick once fasted for 40 days. Pilgrims were climbing barefoot over sharp rocks, a powerful act of penance. I, meanwhile, was lacing up my sturdy boots, wondering what drove them to do this. This mountain, this saint, and his story all have something important to teach us—not just about faith but about how we navigate an ever-changing world. St. Patrick wasn’t even Irish. He was a kidnapped teenager, taken from what is now Scotland and enslaved in Ireland. Instead of giving in to despair, he turned to prayer, learning to listen for God’s voice in the silence. When he finally escaped and made it home, he had another vision—this time calling him back to Ireland. It made no sense. Why return to the land of his captors? And yet, he did. And that changed everything. What fascinates me is how Patrick spread the Christian faith. Not through force or fear, but through understanding, culture, and storytelling. He spoke the people's language, embraced their traditions, and built communities that would last for generations. That’s the part of Patrick’s story that feels so relevant today. We live in a time where many are retreating into fear, seeing change as a threat. But Patrick’s life proves that faith doesn’t thrive in isolation—it grows when it meets people where they are. He didn’t fight against the culture. He engaged with it. He didn’t preach from a pedestal. He walked alongside people. He didn’t see outsiders as enemies. He saw them as his mission. I think that’s something worth reflecting on today. What if, instead of fearing change, we looked for the ways God is calling us to step into it with courage? What if we saw differences not as barriers but as bridges? If this sparks something in you, I dive deeper into these ideas in this week’s episode of The Walk. We explore Patrick’s real story (not the myth), how his approach still speaks to us today, and why faith always flourishes when it embraces, rather than rejects, the world around it.

02-04

35:08

"I will take the Ring, though I do not know the way." There’s a powerful moment in The Lord of the Rings when Frodo steps forward, against all odds, to carry the burden of the Ring. He doesn’t know how he’ll succeed. He has no guarantee he’ll survive. But he takes that first step, and it changes everything. The world feels overwhelming right now—wars, political tension, economic struggles. It’s easy to feel like Frodo, staring at a monumental challenge and wondering, “What can I possibly do?” Here’s the truth: like Frodo, your small actions can have a ripple effect. In fact, they’re more powerful than you think. We often fall into two traps when faced with overwhelming challenges: Avoidance – Pretending it’s not happening, unplugging completely from the news or issues. While boundaries are important, disengaging entirely can leave the world’s problems unchecked. Outrage – Getting sucked into a constant cycle of anger and frustration. Outrage culture thrives on this, draining your energy without providing solutions. But there’s a better way: focus on what you can control. Here’s how: Take one small step. Do one good deed today, even if it feels insignificant. Small acts of kindness build up in powerful ways. Turn outrage into action. Instead of letting frustration drain you, channel it into creating something positive. Write, volunteer, or simply offer encouragement to someone in need. Find hope in the small things. Just as Frodo and Sam remind us, even the smallest people can make the biggest difference. The fate of Middle-earth didn’t rest on the mighty armies of men, elves, or dwarves. It rested on two small hobbits who took one step at a time, fueled by hope. What’s one small thing you can do today to bring a little more light into the world?

01-28

29:31

I'm recording this on the third Monday in January, and for many of us, the spark of the new year feels like it’s fading. The Christmas lights are gone, the weather is bleak, and those ambitious resolutions? They’re feeling more like distant dreams. Some call this day "Blue Monday," and I get it—it’s easy to feel stuck when the world seems gray. But here’s the thing: Blue Monday doesn’t have to stay blue. I’ve discovered a mindset shift that’s helped me push through the gloom and find a little light in the darkness. It starts with one question: What can I do right now to make things better? Here’s how I’m turning Blue Monday into something brighter: Acknowledge the feelings. Feeling down? It’s okay. Emotions are signals, not the whole story. Writing them down in a journal helps me understand what’s triggering them. Focus on what’s in your control. Whether it’s making a room warmer (even if it costs a bit more) or taking a quick walk outside, small actions can make a big difference. Be the helper. Instead of feeling overwhelmed by bad news, I look for ways to help others. Even small acts of kindness—like supporting someone in need—can shift your mood. Embrace imperfection. Didn’t stick to your New Year’s resolution? That’s fine! Start small. One healthy meal or a short walk is better than giving up entirely. Blue Monday isn’t a permanent state—it’s an opportunity to rethink, reset, and take small steps toward brighter days. So, grab a mental paintbrush and turn those blues into yellows, oranges, and golds. You’ve got more agency than you think. Curious how I’ve been practicing this myself? I unpack it all in this week’s podcast episode, including how small changes in perspective can make a big difference. Give it a listen—it might just brighten your day.

01-20

31:29

Walking through a winter forest earlier today, I saw bare trees and fallen branches. Everything seemed lifeless. But beneath the decay, I noticed something powerful: the forest wasn’t dying—it was preparing for new growth. The trees had left nuts and seeds on the ground. The decaying leaves provided nourishment and protection, waiting for spring to arrive. It made me rethink the changes happening on social media right now. TikTok bans, Meta shifts, platforms falling apart. It feels like loss. But losing a platform doesn’t mean losing connection. Just like the forest, new life depends on what you do next. Here’s what I’ve learned after 20 years on social media: Platforms come and go, but relationships last. Genuine connections outlive follower counts. Numbers don’t equal community. You own your message, not the medium. Diversify where and how you share. Your podcast, newsletter, or blog gives you agency. Be present where it matters. Go to the platforms where your audience is, but don’t rely on just one. Engagement beats algorithms. Talk with people, not to them. Invest in meaningful conversations. Loss creates space. Mourning a platform can open the door to deeper connections and new opportunities. Let go to grow. Holding on to what’s gone prevents you from building what’s next. Platforms don’t define your value. Your voice and your impact do. What’s one step you can take today to strengthen your community beyond social media?

01-14

43:55

Have you ever wished for a total reset? Not just in your calendar, but in your life? That’s exactly what the ancient concept of a Jubilee Year offers—a fresh start for individuals and communities alike, once every 25 years. In this episode, I dig into the idea of Jubilee and why it’s more than just a historical footnote. It’s about restoration, freedom, and wiping the slate clean. Whether or not you’ve heard of it, there’s something deeply relevant here for all of us. Here’s a sneak peek of what we cover: What a Jubilee Year is: Think debt forgiveness, freedom for the enslaved, and a reset for all of us. Why it’s still relevant: How this ancient idea connects to modern issues like burnout, inequality, and our fast-paced lives. The personal takeaway: How you can apply the spirit of Jubilee to your own life right now—instead of waiting another 25 years! This episode isn’t just about history or theology. It’s about hope and the possibility of renewal. And let’s face it, who couldn’t use a little of that?

01-07

30:47

As we step into 2025, one phrase is shaping how I approach the new year: Perfect is the enemy of good. Like many, I’ve started previous years with big resolutions, only to watch them unravel by February. Why? Because I set the bar so high that a single misstep felt like failure. This year, I’m doing things differently—focusing on small, consistent steps rather than perfection.   Here’s what I’ve learned: Big changes stick better when they’re gradual. A five-minute habit is more sustainable than a huge masterplan for something you've never done before. Breaking tasks into smaller steps reduces overwhelm. For my next book, it could mean writing three paragraphs a day instead of a full chapter. Failure isn’t the end—it’s feedback. Mistakes teach us what doesn’t work and how to adjust. Interestingly, the Church offers a powerful reminder of this same idea at the start of each year. On January 1, we celebrate the feast of Mary, the Mother of God. In the basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore in Rome, a mosaic depicts Mary crowned by her Son, surrounded by stars and angels. Yet Mary’s life was anything but grandiose. Her greatness began with a single “yes” to God—one small step of trust and humility. This is a reminder for us, too: greatness often starts small. The steps we take today, however modest, can lead to something far greater over time. So, if you’re overwhelmed by resolutions or held back by perfectionism, take heart. Focus on progress, not perfection. Start small, and let each step build on the last. What’s one small step you’re taking today? Let’s share and support each other as we move into the new year. Listen to my full reflections on this in this new year's episode of The Walk! Here’s to a year of grace, growth, and progress—one step at a time.Happy New Year! Fr. Roderick Vonhögen P.S.: I am organizing a free webinar for parish members and religious organizations on how to grow your online impact and your social media following in 2025. I'll share 5 simple secrets that help me reach millions of people on social media. The webinar is next Thursday, January 9 at 8 PM CET (that is 2 PM EST/11 AM PST). Send me a message if you're interested, or share this with someone who might be!

01-01

01:03:50

The other day, I woke up with a Christmas song in my head. It wasn’t just any version—it was the Muppets and John Denver, singing 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas'. Nostalgia hit hard, reminding me of simpler, cozier moments from childhood. But here’s the thing: the world today feels far from cozy or simple. How can we have ourselves a Merry Little Christmas when the world is on fire? Still, the story of the Nativity holds lessons that matter even more now.  I talk about it in this week's episode of my podcast 'The Walk'. Some takeaways:  ☑ Focus on what you can control ↳ Global problems can feel overwhelming. ↳ Your local actions still create real impact. ↳ Small, consistent kindness changes lives around you. Jesus was born as a powerless child in a world that was in turmoil. Christmas is about small beginnings that end up changing the world. ☑ Turn Worry Into Prayer ↳ Worry drains energy. ↳ Focus on gratitude for what’s going well, even amidst challenges. ↳ Set aside five minutes each morning to sit quietly and pray. 'Do not be afraid,' is the message of the angels. And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart. ☑ Embrace small acts of kindness ↳ Find a need in your immediate circle.↳ Commit to one action you can do today.↳ Reflect on how it impacted you and others. Mary wrapped her newborn son in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger. Jesus' first experience is the simple, gentle care of his mother. Celebrating Christmas isn’t trying to escape reality. It’s about seeing the power in small actions and shared moments. So... have yourself a Merry Little Christmas!

12-23

37:26

 Christmas stress hit me hard this week.   I was sitting at my desk after hours of non-stop work when it dawned on me: Christmas Eve is less than an week away. My brain went into overdrive. So much to do. So many obligations. How am I this far behind? I imagined the chaos—rushing to clean the house, prepare meals, and meet commitments I’d promised without thinking. Sound familiar?   We romanticize the holidays—lights, calm evenings, and joy. But in reality, we’re sprinting through the season. Here’s how I’m learning to slow down, reclaim calm, and actually enjoy Christmas this year:   ☑ Start with a list. ↳ Write down everything you’ve committed to. ↳ Ask: “What can I cut, postpone, or simplify?” ↳ Overcommitting helps no one—not you, not them.   ☑ Create 15-minute calm moments. ↳ Light a candle. Sit in silence. Breathe. ↳ Dedicate this time to slowing down. ↳ Say, “This moment is for me and for God.”   ☑ Simplify social obligations. ↳ Perfect meals? Spotless homes? Not necessary. ↳ People value your presence over perfection. ↳ Be available, not overwhelmed.   ☑ Move at a human pace. ↳ Deliberately walk slower. Talk slower. Think slower. ↳ Recognize when you’re rushing and pause.   ☑ Make room for God at Christmas. ↳ Attend a church service. ↳ Arrive super early and take time to slow down. ↳ Let go of all stress, take a deep breath and open your heart.   ☑ React to stress with calm. ↳ Stress is contagious. Calm is, too. ↳ Choose to smile, breathe, and move forward deliberately.   The goal isn’t a stress-free life. It’s you learning to move through it differently. Christmas isn’t a performance. It’s an invitation to slow down, unburden yourself, and make space for joy.   In this week's episode of my podcast 'The Walk', I share how I am trying to implement these tips.   What’s one small way you’ll slow down this Christmas?