Hello Reader,

As I write this, I'm sitting in our hanging egg chair on the terrace, coffee on the table in front of me, watching my 15-month-old son sleep peacefully in his hammock. It's 8 AM on a Sunday, and I've already walked almost 11,000 steps with my newborn daughter strapped to my chest—she's now with my wife.

This moment seems idyllic, but it's actually the first time this year I've been able to sit here undisturbed. Usually, my son only naps during the day if he's being carried around in the baby carrier, just like our daughter.

The Surrender Experiment

Three weeks ago, I thought I'd be back to my regular work schedule by July. The reality? I've managed maybe 2 hours of focused work during daylight, then another hour from 10-11 PM when my sleep-deprived brain is barely functioning.

Why am I sharing this?

Because I used to be a workaholic. Not from passion, but as a coping mechanism—a way to escape uncomfortable emotions and earn approval through achievement. Something I learned in childhood and only recognized in my late twenties.

Now I want to create from excitement and alignment.

Just when I finally felt aligned with my path, with so many plans brewing, life reminded me that control is largely an illusion. In the past, this would have sent me spiraling into frustration and self-attack.

But something's different now.

What Actually Keeps Me Sane

The same technique that helped me overcome social anxiety now keeps me grounded when both kids are crying simultaneously at 4 AM. The same practice that freed me from people-pleasing now helps me navigate the beautiful chaos of early parenthood without losing myself.

Since my son was born, I've returned to daily Releasing practice. When the overwhelm hits, when plans dissolve, when I feel the familiar grip of wanting to control outcomes, I let it go.

This isn't spiritual bypassing or pretending everything's fine. It's feeling whatever's there and releasing the resistance to what is.

Letting Go of Who I Used to Be

This week, I shared a deeply personal thread about my journey from social anxiety and Complex PTSD. It took years before I felt ready to tell that story publicly.

Why? Because it no longer triggered shame or embarrassment. I've genuinely let go of my past.

When I think of the 18-year-old me—anxious, people-pleasing, invisible—I feel compassion for him, but I'm not him anymore. That identity has been released, transformed into wisdom I can now share.

The boy who couldn't speak up in class now holds space for others' deepest emotions. The people-pleaser who lived for approval now helps others connect with their authentic Self.

Your greatest struggles become your greatest gifts.

What Would You Like to Release?

Speaking of letting go, even with limited time, I'm planning to host Releasing sessions on X Spaces starting in July.

I realized my community has grown, and it's a great chance to introduce the technique that helped me on my journey, connect with other people, and to practice this powerful technique together, in real-time. Having a safe space to connect with like-minded people has been invaluable in my own healing journey.

But I'd love to know what you're most ready to release. What's been weighing on you? What old pattern are you ready to let go?

Your responses will help me tailor these sessions to what our community needs most.

Because here's what I've learned: What we're most afraid to face is usually what's keeping us stuck.

Stay on the path,

Bohus "Bo" Bohunicky

P.S. If you missed that personal thread I mentioned, you can read it here. And if releasing is new to you, don't worry—I'll be sharing the basics in our first session. Often, the willingness to let go is all you need to make a great change in your life.