I’ve been thinking about something that came up during my last UnRambling session, and I think I’ve stumbled onto something important about how our minds work.

Un·Ram·bling
/ˌənˈram-bling/ noun

The act of recording yourself while walking, running, biking, driving—or swimming (well, maybe not swimming)—to capture unfiltered thoughts before the inner editor steps in.

A spontaneous, movement-based form of journaling that unlocks clarity, creativity, and insight.
“I recorded an UnRambling on this during my hike—it helped me finally figure it out.”

We’re constantly told that multitasking is a myth – that we can’t really do two things at once, that trying to multitask just makes us worse at everything. And scientifically, that’s true when we’re talking about competing cognitive tasks. Try to write an email while having a phone conversation and you’ll do both poorly.

But what I’ve discovered through UnRambling is that there’s a completely different kind of “multitasking” happening when I’m active and recording myself. When I’m out walking, running, biking, hiking or driving, and recording myself talking through things out loud, it’s not about doing two demanding tasks simultaneously. It’s about using one activity to unlock something deeper in another.

An UnRambling happens by getting the words and feelings out of my head—without interference from the editor that sits between my mind and my hand.

The Editor Problem

Here’s what I think is really happening.

When I sit down at a computer to journal or write, there’s this editor that sits between my head and my hand. It’s that voice that’s constantly evaluating, filtering, polishing before the thoughts even hit the page.

“Is this worth writing down? Does this make sense? How does this sound?”

That editor isn’t just unhelpful – it’s actively blocking access to what’s really going on in my head and heart.

It’s like there’s a cranky editor-in-chief standing guard at the newsroom in my brain, redlining every raw thought before it even hits the page.

I often wonder if maybe it’s the permanence of words vs the flight of voice that sets the brain free.

Movement as Cognitive Distraction

But when I’m walking, something different happens.

The physical movement occupies just enough of my conscious mind to slip past that internal editor.

The rhythm of my feet, the awareness of the path, the simple act of moving forward – it’s like these create a cognitive distraction that fools my analytical mind into relaxing its guard.

It lets me move from “what is” to “what if.”

And that’s when the real stuff comes out. Not the polished thoughts I think I should be having, but the actual concerns, insights, and connections that have been percolating underneath the surface.

The Truth About “Multitasking” in Motion

So when I say that UnRambling is “the most authentic way to multitask,” I’m not talking about the kind of multitasking that splits your attention and diminishes performance. I’m talking about using movement to create the perfect conditions for authentic self-expression and exploration.

The walking or running or hiking or biking isn’t competing with the thinking – it’s facilitating it. It’s occupying the part of my mind that would normally be censoring and filtering, which allows deeper thoughts to surface naturally.

It’s like I’m tricking my brain into being honest with me.

This explains why some of my best insights come during these sessions.

I’m not trying to think profound thoughts, force a breakthrough, or craft an essay.

Moving Meditation

In a way, I think I’ve accidentally discovered a form of moving meditation.

The rhythm of walking creates a state where my deeper thoughts can surface without the usual interference from my analytical mind. It’s not meditation in the traditional sense – I’m not trying to empty my mind or focus on my breath. But there’s something about the repetitive motion that seems to quiet the inner critic and open up access to more authentic thinking.

This might be why sitting down to journal on command feels so much harder sometimes. I’m asking my mind to perform, to produce insights on demand, rather than creating the conditions where authentic thoughts naturally emerge.

Beyond Personal Application

I wonder if this principle extends beyond just personal reflection.

How many creative breakthroughs happen during walks? How many problems get solved not at the desk but on the trail?

Maybe what we call “stepping away from the problem” is really about using movement to bypass the cognitive patterns that keep us stuck.

There’s something powerful about discovering that the supposed limitation of our minds – our inability to truly multitask – might actually point toward a different kind of optimization.

Maybe the real insight isn’t doing more at once—but finding which activities complement each other and create conditions for deeper work to emerge.

If the rule is that multitasking is a myth, then movement is the loophole.

So, the next time someone tells you that multitasking doesn’t work, you might want to suggest they take a walk and think about it.

I’d love to hear in the comments if anyone has tried doing this - recording themselves while active and then transcribing and analyzing what came out of the session.

Sean Openshaw is a professional photographer, cinematographer, writer, and creator of Personal Life Record® and the Life Indexing Method™. He helps people preserve the moments that matter by combining visuals, storytelling, and structured reflection.

Not every moment in life is a made-for-TV movie.

Most of what happens is forgettable. But some moments define who we are.

How do we recognize those moments while we're in them? How do we know what they mean?

And how do we frame the story of our everyday life—so it deserves to be told, remembered, and passed on? So it brings understanding—not just to us, but to those who hear it?

Hollywood has already figured this out.

And we can use their storytelling secrets to tell our life stories, too.

[Short Personal Intro]

Hi! My name is Sean Openshaw, and welcome to UnRambling—where I record myself while [running, biking, hiking, walking, driving]… or swimming—well, maybe not swimming.

I then transcribe and reflect on the recording to preserve the insights often left out on the trail.

Through this process, I’ve learned that saying thoughts out loud can be even more powerful than just thinking about them or even writing them down.

And I hope that by doing this, I inspire you to try it as well.

[Set the Stage: What to Expect]

Today is Saturday, March 8, 2025, and I’m out walking in the forest behind my house after our first really big snowstorm.

Today, I’m UnRambling about something that’s been on my mind lately.

How can the way Hollywood tells stories help us make sense of our own stories ? How can they guide us to better questions, deeper insights, and a clearer understanding of how our stories matter?

Every great movie follows a pattern—a structure of beats that make the story work. I know some people resist that idea, but I think Hollywood is onto something.

Personally, I prefer the Save the Cat structure, but there are plenty of story formulas to choose from: The Hero's Journey, Freytag's Pyramid, Three-Act Structure, Dan Harmon's Story Circle—pick your poison.

I use Save the Cat story beats to outline the stories I write and film. And that got me thinking—what if we could use those same story beats, this same structure, to make sense of our own lives? To see the bigger picture? To understand what makes our story interesting, memorable, compelling and worth telling—not just to others, but for ourselves?

[The Setup – Why This Matters]

I’ve always said that life is like a glacier moving at lightning speed—an unstoppable mass of compressed moments, slowly shaping our existence, yet instantly reshaping everything in its path.

We know what happened in our lives because we were there.

But we don’t always see why it mattered.

We don’t recognize the beats that take us from one version of ourselves to another. Instead, we tend to see life as a series of disconnected events: this happened, then this happened.

We remember moments, but we don’t always take a step back to see the story’s arc—where we started, what changed, and how we’re different because of it.

A good story isn’t just a list of events.

A good story shows change, transformation, and growth.

We Are the Hero in Our Own Story

Think about that for a second. You are the main character in your own life.

You’re on a journey—facing challenges, moments of doubt, big decisions, setbacks, and growth. And like any great story, these moments define who you are and who you’ll become.

The question is: Are you just living through them, or are you paying attention to the story they tell about you?

Because if we want to make sense of our journey—if we want to learn, grow, and understand where we’re headed—where we’ve been—what that means—we need to ask better questions about those moments.

I love Einstein’s approach to problem-solving:

“If I had an hour to solve a problem and my life depended on the solution, I would spend the first 55 minutes determining the proper question to ask, for once I know the proper question, I could solve the problem in less than five minutes.”

I’m no Einstein, but I do know this: The questions we ask determine the answers we find.

Instead of asking, “Why did this happen to me?”—a question we often can’t answer—we can use story beats to ask better questions:

• What was the catalyst that set this in motion?

• What was the moment of hesitation before I committed? What compelled me to commit?

• What are the fun and games? What is the love story?

• The hero doesn’t always get what they want, but they get what they need. What does that look like?

• Was there a false victory that made you think you had arrived, but you hadn’t?

• What was the dark night of the soul—the all-is-lost moment—and how did you get through it?

• What actually changed in you because of this experience?

• What could an audience or your future self learn from what you went through?

This approach lets us off the hook in a way. Instead of feeling like we have to have all the answers, we simply follow the beats. We don’t have to judge our story while we’re living it. We just have to ask the right questions and trust that the meaning will reveal itself when we look back.

And in doing so, we give ourselves the same grace we’d give any hero in a movie—we let the story unfold. Hollywood knows that it doesn’t matter if a hero is good or bad; it’s how they change that matters.

When we frame our experiences in storytelling terms, it permits us to ask the hard questions—because we’re not just reflecting—we’re playing the role of the screenwriter.

And that changes everything.

Instead of being stuck in ‘why me?’ thinking, we get to step back, see the bigger picture, and uncover the deeper meaning of our own story.

[Walking Through the Beats]

Here’s how stories work—and how we can use that same structure Hollywood does to see which moments in our lives actually shaped us—how they can help us make sense of our own lives.

🔹 Opening Image – This is what life looked like before everything changed. Think of a moment in your life—before the big move, before the new job, before the loss, before the realization, before you committed to the thing. Where were you? What did normal look like? Paint the “before” picture with as much color and detail as possible. You can’t see growth until you can compare it to where you started. Don’t shy away from the ugly truths. Don’t describe how you’d like to remember it—tell it like it really was.

🔹 Catalyst – This is the thing that set everything in motion. Maybe it was a decision you made. Maybe it was something outside of your control. But this is the moment where the story begins—where you couldn’t stay in the old version of your life anymore.

🔹 Debate – Ever had a moment where you thought, Can I really do this? Should I even try? That’s this beat. It’s that hesitation before you step into something new.

🔹 Break Into Act Two – This is when you commit. No turning back. Maybe it was the first step into a new path, maybe it was a leap of faith, maybe it was a moment where you knew—this was it.

🔹 Fun & Games – The part where things are happening. The ups, the wins, the challenges that felt exciting. This is the messy middle—the stuff that makes the journey interesting.

🔹 Midpoint – The false victory or false defeat. Ever had a moment where you thought you had it figured out, only to realize you were only halfway there? That’s this beat.

🔹 Dark Night of the Soul – The lowest moment. The one where you felt like quitting. The one where everything seemed to fall apart. If a moment in your life doesn’t have some kind of struggle, it’s probably not a defining moment.

🔹 Transformation – The turning point. The lesson. The thing that made it all worthwhile. The way you grew because of everything that came before it.

🔹 Final Image – Looking back now, how do you see yourself differently? How would the “you” from the Opening Image react to who you are now?

[Finding the Core – What Is Your Story Really About?]

Finding the Logline— What Is This Story Really About?

One of the most powerful parts of storytelling is cutting through the noise to get to the heart of the story.

It’s the first question a Hollywood producer asks about a screenplay:

👉 What is the story about?

Sometimes, the hardest questions to answer are the simplest to ask.

When I Unramble, I start talking about one thing, then another, circling around a deeper idea I wasn’t even aware of. But by the end, when I step back to summarize the session, I realize what it was really about. And that’s why it’s so important to reflect, to look back and find the throughline.

It’s easy to get caught up in the events, but the meaning is what matters.

It’s the same with our life moments. What was this really about?
What is this moment trying to teach me? What am I supposed to learn?

Sometimes, the best way to reframe our story is to ask different questions.

One of my favorite life-framing hacks is asking, no matter how good or bad this moment seems:

👉 How is this the best thing that ever happened to me?

The answer isn’t always obvious—it’s often painful—but that’s the point. The question forces me to find meaning and hope—even in the struggle—especially when it hurts.

Sure, on the surface, you ran your first marathon. But when you step back, maybe your story wasn’t about running at all. Maybe it was about proving to yourself that you could commit to something hard and actually see it through. Maybe it was about reclaiming your health. Maybe it was about something deeper all along.

Simply ask: What was this really about?

Asking that one question—the real heart of the story—gives clarity.
It turns scattered memories into a cohesive narrative.
And, most importantly, it helps us understand what really mattered.

The Power of Teaching and Recognizing Your Own Story Beats

Another powerful thing about this framework? It teaches.

When we put our life into story beats, we don’t just make sense of our own journey—we make it easier for others to connect with it. It ensures our story is told the way we want it to be told and not left for interpretation when we’re gone.

Good storytelling teaches the lessons we’ve learned to help others and our future selves.

By shaping our memories into beats, we’re not just preserving them—we’re giving them meaning. Whether we’re telling our kids about a past struggle, sharing a life lesson with a friend, or even journaling for our future selves, using story beats makes it intriguing and memorable. And, let’s be honest—it keeps people from zoning out while we tell it.

But this isn’t just about looking back; it’s about moving forward.

Stop and think—you’re in the middle of your story right now.

Maybe you’re in a Debate moment, questioning your next move.
Maybe you’re at the Midpoint, thinking you’ve arrived, only to realize you still have more to learn.
Or maybe you’re in the Dark Night of the Soul—that all-is-lost moment, feeling stuck, unsure of what comes next.

But here’s the good news: That means a transformation is coming. That means you're just the hero in your story, trying to figure it out, and that’s OK.

Only the Gods know when your final scene will come. But until they yell ‘CUT!’—the story is still yours to write.

[Closing Thought]

So, what story beat are you in right now? And what’s the next one?

When you start looking at your life through the lens of story beats, things stop feeling random. You stop wondering if you’re stuck. Because you realize—every great story has moments of doubt, struggle, transformation, and growth.

Heroes come in all shapes and sizes. Some are fearless. Some are flawed.

But all of them learn. All of them change. All of them grow.

That’s what makes a story worth telling.

And that’s what makes you a hero—in all your flaws and glory.

Whatever moment you’re in now, it’s leading to the next beat.

So, take a step back, ask the right questions, and trust that your story is still unfolding—and worth telling.

Framed correctly, your life isn’t just a collection of random “then this happened” moments. It’s an epic journey. And when you tell your story out loud, it doesn’t just make more sense to you—it helps others too.

So, what do you have to lose?

P.S. I don’t know where you’re listening, watching, or reading this, but if you want to be part of the conversation, visit UnRambling.com or sign up for my newsletter at PersonalLifeRecord.com.

Thank you for listening. I can’t wait for you to tell your story—out loud.

It’s like waking from a dream, knowing you had something important you NEEDED to write down, but you just can’t remember what it was.

That’s why I started UnRambling—to capture those fleeting ideas before they disappear.

Hi! My name is Sean Openshaw, and welcome to UnRambling—where I record myself while [running, biking, hiking, walking, driving]… or swimming—well, maybe not swimming.

I then transcribe and reflect on the recording to preserve the insights often left out on the trail.

Through this process, I’ve learned that saying thoughts out loud can be even more powerful than just thinking about them or even writing them down.

And I hope that by doing this, I inspire you to try it, as well.

Today is Wednesday, February 26, 2025. I’m out walking my three dogs in the forest behind my house.

Today, I'm Looking for the Voice of UnRambling

It’s official: I just published my first two UnRambling podcasts on Spotify. Yah!

In those episodes I talked about getting more comfortable with my voice.

Speaking naturally and refining how I express my thoughts out loud has been an ongoing challenge, but ultimately, the goal of UnRambling isn’t just about ME finding my voice. It’s about providing real value to an audience.

That BIG PICTURE is what I’m thinking about today: How can I motivate people to put down their cameras, pick up a pen, and explore the meaning behind the important moments in their life—beyond what they look like?

This is why I’ve been working on creating the processes and procedures, the framework and the workbook for creating a Personal Life Record.

I want to help people live, capture, and catalog important moments so they can create stories, preserve memories, and stay connected to the moments that bring meaning and purpose to their lives.

This fits into the UnRambling process because, just like their thoughts, I want to help people get their memories out of their heads and onto the page where they can reflect and preserve them.

I Want to Shift My Focus From Personal to Purposeful

While these initial UnRambling sessions have helped me define my voice and message, I realize that the long game is bigger than my own journey. The real opportunity here is to help others shift the way they think about capturing important life moments.

Instead of just accumulating images, how do we document the richness of experience? How do we ensure that the context, emotions, and meaning behind moments aren’t lost?

I want to provide people with insights, tools, and frameworks to make this process easier—questions they can ask themselves at the right time, strategies to help organize and catalog memories effectively, and a process that prevents life’s meaningful moments from getting lost in the rambling way we often document our lives.

I Want to Interview Experts in Legacy Storytelling

One potential direction for the podcast is to interview legacy story ghostwriters or legacy filmmakers—people who help others write stories, create videos, and publish memoirs about peoples’ lives.

Specifically, I believe that creating a Personal Life Record will make it significantly easier for these legacy storytellers to do their job. The hard work of cataloging someone’s life—the timelines, the relationships, the milestones, the important stories—will already be in place.

Imagine a ghostwriter sitting down to craft someone’s life story.

Instead of starting from scratch, they have a structured record of key milestones, relationships, and defining moments.

Imagine sitting down with an elderly loved one—not with just a camera and a generic list of memory prompts, but with a framework designed to ask the questions that actually matter.

Stories that unlock the real, meaningful moments—not just, then this happened, and then this happened.

Imagine sorting through your own life, coming across an important date or fact, and knowing exactly where to document it so it doesn’t slip away into the void of forgotten details.

This changes everything.

Even beyond professional memoirs, this process benefits families. How many times have you wished you had more details about your grandparents’ lives?

How many times have you heard a story or stumbled across an important detail or reflection about your life, and you just didn't know where to put it—and then it was forgotten months later?

How much easier would it be for children and grandchildren to understand their family history if everything was organized and documented in one place?

And I’m not just talking about genealogy spreadsheets.

These insights—this structure—could be invaluable in understanding how memory preservation aids in writing memoirs and life stories.

Facts and details are the guardrails that keep our memories from crashing into the ditch.

Beyond that, there’s an urgent need to talk about the importance of capturing stories before it’s too late—before memory fades, before dementia sets in.

The act of celebrating someone’s story while they are alive and can still fully engage in the process is something I want to explore more deeply.

The moment I knew this was what I was meant to do started with creating a life story about my grandmother BEFORE she passed away. She wanted to be at her 90th birthday when we presented a legacy film about her life. She wanted to be there, to feel the love, when we told everyone HER story. She wanted to experience the celebration while she was still alive and didn’t want to miss it “just because she happen to be dead.”

Those were her words.

And I’ll never forget what that felt like—seeing her surrounded by her family, my brothers and sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins—all the children and great grandchildren. She beamed from ear to ear as we watched her story unfold on the big screen.

The biggest challenge wasn’t scanning in all the photos from her scrapbooks and albums for the video—but trying to get the stories and details behind the images that were often more faded than photos themselves.

That’s when I realized the frailty of memory. That’s when I realized the lie I’d been chasing as a professional photographer for the past 30 years.

There’s more to a moment than meets the eye.

And the “1,000 words” that photographs profess to capture—don’t even scratch the surface of the real words that need to be preserved.

I’m Aligning UnRamblings with My Book and Personal Life Record

Another key realization is that UnRambling should align with the chapters of my planned book and my continued work on Personal Life Record.

By syncing podcast episodes with blog posts and book topics, I can explore problems and solutions—start conversations that can help more people and will build on itself over time.

A big part of this process involves understanding what people are already doing, where the gaps lie, and how I can enhance and guide the conversation.

This isn’t just about me sharing what I know—it’s about engaging with others, crowdsourcing insights, and refining strategies together.

The Next Evolution of UnRambling

As I wrap up today’s UnRambling, the takeaway, for me, is clear:

I’m sure it’s exhausting for an audience to have to listen to me—non-stop, documenting my self-improvement journey.

I’m sure I’ll continue to talk about it, but the direction of this podcast is going to shift.

The real purpose of UnRambling is to help others rethink how they capture and preserve life’s important moments—to go beyond what moments look like and create a system for organizing, reflecting on, and making sense of what they mean.

Unrambling the rambling way we tend to document our lives.

Getting our thoughts and memories out of our heads—out of our hearts—and onto the page where they can help our future selves and our loved ones understand and experience our story - before it’s too late.

So, if you were to sit down to write your life story or a memoir about an important moment in your life, where would you start?

Beyond just photographs, would you have the details you need?

Would you be able to see the connections between the events that shaped you into the person you are today—how you’ve changed—how you’ve grown over the years?

What are your current pain points when it comes to preserving your memories—your story?

What are you doing now? What is/isn’t working?

These are some of the conversations I want to start having with people.

This is my challenge to you: Take a few minutes after this episode, pull up a photo from an important moment a few months ago, and write down details that the photograph didn’t capture.

If this photo was in a photo album 50 years from now, would your distant relative have a clue about the significance of that moment—the rich details—the story behind the image—beyond what they could see?

Beyond the game of charades that photographs play with the memories we’ve entrusted them to preserve.

What did you hope you never wanted to forget about that moment?
What did you hope you would always remember?
What prompted you to pull out your camera?

The world doesn’t need one more person teaching you how to capture what moments look like.

I want to help you preserve what moments mean.

What do you have to lose?

It's like waking from a dream, knowing you had something important you NEEDED to write down, but you just can't remember what it was.

That's why I started UnRambling—to capture those fleeting ideas before they disappear.

Hi! My name is Sean Openshaw, and welcome to UnRambling—where I record myself while [running, biking, hiking, walking, driving]… or swimming—well, maybe not swimming.

I then transcribe and reflect on the recording to preserve the insights often left out on the trail. Through this process, I've learned that saying thoughts out loud can be even more powerful than just thinking about them or even writing them down.

Today's episode is about this:
➡ The only way to get to THERE is through your HERE.

Sometimes, the HARDEST way is the ONLY way:
➡ This is how I'm overcoming the fear of recording myself, one speaking at a time.

Beyond that, this podcast is about more than just capturing and unrambling my rambling thoughts.

It's about the rambling way we interact with the important moments in our life—and being able to unramble them in a way that's sustainable, meaningful, and unforgettable.

It's about recognizing that there's more to a moment than meets the eye—because life is more than just what it looks like.

I want to help people live, capture, and catalog important moments—so they can create stories, preserve memories, and stay connected to the moments that bring meaning and purpose to their lives.

I really hope you stick around so we can figure this out together.

Today is Sunday, February 16, 2025, and I'm recording myself while driving to Scottsdale to have lunch with some of my family.

I often start these UnRambling sessions with a question: What am I trying to unramble?

Today, it's this:➡ How do I improve the way I deliver a message? And what even IS my message?

I'm not necessarily talking about writing or photography, but literally, physically—through speech. How do I say the thing I'm trying to say?

For years, I've struggled with this. As someone who stutters, slurs their words, and tends to ramble, I know I'm often perceived as ineffective, simply because I can't always articulate the thoughts in my head.

Words trip me up like a bully.

Writing? I can edit and make it better. Photography? I can keep shooting until I capture the decisive moment. But speaking? That's been the skill that has always crushed and evaded me.

I've been in a lifelong battle with public speaking.

I felt terror in front of audiences in high school. That feeling followed me through college and has stayed with me ever since. In college, I failed public speaking twice and barely scraped by the third time.

It doesn’t matter whether I’m in front of a group of Cub Scouts, leading a meeting, or speaking to a crowd of any size—I hate it. I can talk with family and friends or my team, no problem.

But beyond that? I struggle.

But there's something about right now that feels different.

For the first time, I feel like I have a message that needs to be delivered—that needs to be said out loud. What's standing between me and my message is being able to say the words when people are looking.

During this process, I realized that my life has come down to more than just photography.

That's scary because I've spent the last 30+ years as a professional photographer chasing what things look like. Every day, I hone my photography skills. And yet, I'm not drawn to teach it.

There is so much information out there right now. The world doesn't need another photographer teaching a course about how to capture what things look like.

What the world needs—is a better way to capture, organize and preserve what moments mean.

That is the message I was meant to deliver. That is the problem I was meant to solve.

I have two things to figure out: What exactly I want to say so that people "hear" me, and how to physically say it, so they can understand me.

I know I don't have the gift to gab. And I definitely don't have the gift to "glam" like so many over-energetic content creators I follow.

What I do know is that if I'm going to deliver a compelling message, I have to get better at speaking. I have to get comfortable with my voice.

I know you’re supposed to “start with bullet points and just talk,” but right now, bullet points lead to rambling, which is worse than being robotic.

That means doing the hard thing first. And that presents two critical gaps:

• I don't know how to read from a script without sounding robotic.

• I don't know how to talk to an audience (on stage or on camera) without feeling awkward and terrified.

The Plan is to UnRamble to Podcast to Video to Stage

How do I move forward without detours? I think it starts with these UnRambling sessions. I record these UnRamblings, letting my thoughts spill out as they come—raw, unfiltered, and real. There's no pressure to get it right; no one is "listening" when I’m out by myself or with my dogs.

I'm also not getting stared down by a blank page.

It gets me comfortable hearing my voice out loud.
It gets me comfortable with pauses.
It gives me confidence to say what I'm trying to say.
It teaches me to compose my thoughts on the fly.

From there, I transcribe and clean up the session. I unramble the ramble. Once I have that, I refine it back into a readable script—what you're hearing now.

This script sounds like the way I talk because it came directly from me talking. It's not words on a page that I've tried to reshape into my "talking voice." It's my actual talking voice quite literally onto the page.

Before I even think about video, I'm starting with audio.

I started with this podcast to get comfortable hearing my voice, practicing delivery, and building confidence to speak without the added pressure of seeing the flashing red record button on a camera.

By recording audio first, I'm working on two skills at once:

• I'm getting comfortable with my voice and the IDEA of having to say things to an audience.

• I'm learning how to read naturally and engagingly. I'm learning how to slow down and speak clearly.

The goal is to get comfortable in front of a microphone before I have to sit in front of a camera or stand in front of an audience.

The Only Way There Is Through Here

As I end this UnRambling session, I realize that I won't get better at speaking by watching YouTube videos and hoping for it. I won't wake up one day magically able to deliver a flawless message.

The good thing is—I already have everything I need to succeed. I don't need permission. I don't need any more gear. I don't need to wait for the perfect moment. This is the only way to get better.

I just need to hit record.

I don't want to be sitting here five years from now, still talking about how I need to improve my speaking skills. Hell, I don't even want to be sitting here five months from now saying anything close to it.

Working on my voice has helped me find my message, and I now have a process for delivering both. I need to stop hiding behind "learning" or the need to "get better." I need to stop spending endless hours watching other people's content and start creating my own.

Because, at the end of the day, the world doesn't need another photographer teaching how to better capture what things look like. It needs someone teaching how to capture what moments mean—and, more importantly, how to document, curate, and catalog that meaning so that it's not lost.

I want to help people stay connected to the moments that bring meaning and purpose to their lives because to have good stories isn't so that we can live forever—our stories show how our lives matter.

And no one is going to tell our story the way it was meant to be told if we don’t capture what it meant to us.

Let Me Step Back for a Moment

If you're listening to this, that means I hit record. And I'm glad I did.

Looking back on this UnRambling session, I think it captures where I am now.

It captures what this moment feels like.

This isn't just about struggling to communicate better. It's about actually doing the work to get better and hopefully finding an audience who wants to follow along—finding people who want to go beyond capturing what life looks like to preserve what it means.

And by forcing myself to articulate how I want to say something, I'm finally starting to understand what it is I have to say.

This isn't some hypothetical self-improvement plan. This is me, mid-struggle, figuring it out as I go. And that feels worth capturing.

I also know I'm not the only one wrestling with this. So many people want to communicate their ideas, but like me, they get stuck in self-doubt, fighting their voices, overthinking, or not knowing where to start.

That's what makes sharing this UnRambling process important to me.

If I can overcome this—learning to become comfortable speaking and delivering my message—maybe that will help someone else do the same.

If I can use my journalistic skills, storytelling experience, and perspective on curating life’s moments to help people create a Personal Life Record—tools and procedures they can use to catalog and preserve the details that make life meaningful—then I’ll have a message that matters.

This isn't a distraction. This is the work. This session proves I'm on the right path because I finally have a message I’m dying to deliver, and I finally hit the record.

If I could leave you with one thought, it would be this.

The tagline for this UnRambling podcast is “Wandering Thoughts Don’t Need to be Lost.” It’s a nod to the famous Tolkien line, "Not all those who wander are lost,” because I believe there is great value in rambling thoughts and wandering adventures.

But I also believe that if we don’t put down our camera and pick up our pen, we risk losing forever—why our journey was valuable in the first place.

P.S.

This episode came out of one 90-minute recording as I drove from Flagstaff to Scottsdale. This entire "speech"—all the words and ideas—would have been left sitting in my head... had I not just hit record.

So, as I end this UnRambling session, I'd like to ask you one question.

If you were to get in your car or go for a long walk by yourself, what would you UnRamble about?

Would you consider hitting record?

What do you have to lose?

Have you ever been out by yourself when you have this amazing idea—but by the time you get home, most of the details are gone?

It’s like waking from a dream, knowing you had something important you HAVE to write down, but you just can’t remember what it was.

That’s why I started UnRambling—not just to capture fleeting ideas, but because something powerful happens when you slowly force your thoughts into words. The act of speaking them out loud unrambles what’s in your head and reveals insights you never knew were there.

Hi! My name is Sean Openshaw, and welcome to UnRambling—where I record myself while [running, biking, hiking, walking, driving]... or swimming—well, maybe not swimming.

I then transcribe and reflect on the recording to preserve the insights often left out on the trail.

Through this process, I’ve learned that saying thoughts out loud can be even more powerful than just thinking about them—or even writing them down.

And I hope that by doing this, I inspire you to try it, as well.

Today's Episode:➡ The Super Power of Saying Things Out Loud

Because:➡ Sometimes, the best ideas come when you don’t think you have anything to say.

Beyond that, this podcast is about more than just capturing and unrambling my random thoughts.

It’s about the rambling way we interact with the important moments in our life—and being able to unramble them in a way that’s sustainable, meaningful, and unforgettable.

It’s about recognizing that there’s more to a moment than meets the eye—because life is more than just what it looks like.

I want to help people live, capture, and catalog important moments—so they can create stories, preserve memories, and stay connected to the moments that bring meaning and purpose to their lives.

I really hope you stick around so we can figure this out together.

This episode is for you if:

➡ You’ve ever hesitated to put your voice out into the world—whether through speaking, writing, or just sharing an idea.

What I learned from today’s episode is that:
➡ The hardest part is starting. Resistance is ugly, but it’s SO beautiful on the other side.

And as we start this episode, I'd like you to think about this question:
➡ What are you resisting to start?

Let’s get into it.

Today is Wednesday, February 19, 2025, and I’m recording myself while walking my three dogs—Minnie, Daisy, and Luna—in the forest behind my house.

I often start these UnRambling sessions with a question: What am I trying to unramble?

Sometimes, I have a topic in mind. Sometimes, I don’t.

But I usually try to pinpoint where I'm stuck or a feeling I want to explore. I try to stay on that topic as long as possible, but I also let my thoughts take me where they will.

Today’s question is this:➡ Why is it so hard to START?

It’s on my mind because I’ve always struggled with my voice—my inability to get words to come out of my mouth without tripping over my tongue on the way out. Thoughts get traffic-jammed in my head and they just can’t get past this speaking barrier.

I know this is a learnable skill. I just need to get past the terror of talking to an audience. I need to get comfortable with my voice.

I want to be able to step out of my head and onto the stage, but the resistance is palpable.

This is the Therapy of UnRambling

I often wonder if these UnRambling sessions aren’t that different from sitting on a therapist’s couch.

A good therapist doesn’t give you the answers—they sit there quietly, listening as you spill your guts. They might ask you a question here or there, but mostly, they leave you to your rambling.

With UnRambling, no therapist is needed. Simply putting my brain in the position where it knows it’s being recorded forces it to start spitting out details like a guilty witness on cross-examination.

And once those thoughts make their way onto the page through transcription, something magical always appears.

To Battle Against Resistance, You Have to Trick Your Brain

For me, starting an UnRambling session is not unlike starting to exercise.

There have been so many times when I didn’t want to go for a run or a bike ride. So I made a deal with myself: just get dressed, step outside, and give it five minutes. If I still don’t feel like it, I can turn around and go home.

Most of the time, though, I don’t turn back. The hardest part is always getting out the door.

And the same goes for these UnRambling sessions. When I’m about to head out for a long drive or a walk, deciding whether to hit record often feels exhausting because talking through my feelings can be hard work - much harder than listening to music or someone else’s podcast.

But just like I trick myself into working out, I do the same thing here.

I say, "Fine, you don’t have to UnRambling today. Just give me five minutes talking about your day, and if you hate it, we’ll stop and hit delete."

Nine times out of ten, I find myself slowing down at the end of a run, trying to wrap up my thoughts, often surprised by what's come up.

It’s in these End Moments of an UnRambling where I’ve Learned the Power of Summarizing

One of the most valuable parts of this process is closing the loop—giving yourself enough time to step back to look for the bigger picture.

It’s easy to ramble on for 30 minutes or an hour, but without summarizing, you might miss the real insight buried beneath the words.

So many times, I’ve thought an UnRambling was about one thing, only to realize—by the end—it was about something else entirely.

And sometimes, those connections hit hard.

Those are the gut-punch moments—when rambling thoughts suddenly click into something meaningful.

And in those moments, I’m always grateful that I pushed through the resistance and hit record.

Let Me Step Back for a Moment

If you’re listening to this, that means I transcribed the Unrambling out with my dogs, cleaned up the text, re-wrote a few things for clarity—and, most importantly, I’m here, re-recroding the unrambled Unrambling.

And I’m so glad I did.

Reflecting on this UnRambling session, I realize just how much resistance plays a role in my creative process.

I love the saying that motivation starts with action.

That’s true for recording these UnRamblings, for exercise, for writing—for anything.

Every time I push past that initial resistance—whether it’s hitting record, stepping out the door, or just letting the first thought tumble out—I almost always find something worthwhile on the other side.

Speaking in front of an audience has always terrified me, but these UnRambling sessions have shown me that my best ideas come out in my OUTSIDE voice.

I know I started this Unrambling, rambling about resistance, but as I ended my walk, I realized I’d been circling something deeper all along. It’s not the resistance that I’m fighting against, it’s trying to find my voice that I’m fighting for.

➡ That’s the real magic of this process. Being able to put your finger on the missing pieces. And those pieces fall into place when you figure out how to say the words out loud.

Final Takeaway:

So, if there’s one thing I hope you take away from this session, it’s this:

Go out and push through the resistance. You’ll be so glad you did!

Wait—no. That’s not it. We’ve all heard that before.

I think we all have so many thoughts and ideas echoing in our heads. They can be deafening. Paralyzing.

But I’ve found that you need to find a space where you can be alone, a place where there’s no chance anyone will hear you—even better if it’s an activity where your body is doing one thing so your mind can do another.

And when you’re alone, with no one to interact with or to perform for, something magical happens.

Because when you force your brain and emotions to put into words what they’re dwelling on—not just on paper, not just in more thoughts, but spoken, out loud—that’s when things start to make sense.

There’s something about the transformation from inside your head to outside your mouth. Maybe it’s hearing the words that makes them real. Maybe it’s something deeper.

I don’t know. I’m not a clinical psychologist. I’m not a linguist.

I just know how powerful this process has been for me.

You don’t have to record it. But you should definitely try it.

I started this episode by asking: What are you resisting to start?

But actually, that’s not the question I want to leave you with.

Instead, I want to ask you this:

If you were to go out by yourself—on a hike, a bike, a run, a walk, or a drive—and if you were to start talking out loud about something…

➡ What would you Unramble?

I dare you to try.

Today is Thursday, February 13, 2025, and I am walking with my three dogs in the forest behind my house.

I’ve been thinking about the progress I’ve been making with these Unrambling sessions over the past few months.

Hearing myself talk, hearing my voice echo in my ear, has made my voice sound a little less weird. Less foreign. The pauses, the awkwardness—it’s still all there, but not as much as it once was.

I think this is one of those skills you just have to work through.

Actually, I think the reason our own voice “sounds weird,” is because, when your’re talking to someone in a normal conversation, you aren’t really listening to yourself. You’re too busy thinking about what you’re going to say next or how you can tie the conversation back to you.

Honestly, conversations are a selfish tug-of-war. You’re hearing, but you’re not actually listening

In conversations, your focus is on reacting. You’re busy watching the conversation volley back and forth.

That means you don’t really hear your own voice the same way you do when you’re by yourself.

But when it’s just you. The forest or the inside of your car. The silence. Your thoughts. Then the sound of your voice? That instantly becomes deafening. Echoing. Intimidating.

And realizing that—for me—has been huge for me.

Because when you catch yourself doing it, you can stop. You can begin listening. That makes you a better interviewer. A better communicator. A better listener. And ultimately, a better writer and storyteller.

But what does that have to do with me hitting record? Well… because I’m still really uncomfortable in front of the camera.

The Challenge of On-Camera Presence

It turns out that I can talk just fine when I’m out running with my dogs on one of these Unrambling sessions.

They don’t care about what I’m saying as long as it’s not “No!”

They’re sniffing. They’re peeing on stuff—totally uninterested in whatever I’m saying.

But put me in front of a camera or let me see a red “record” button flashing?

And I freeze up. My voice changes. My delivery is stiff. This can’t possibly sound like me?

It sounds like some weird, unnatural, robotic version of me.

I watch guys like Peter McKinnon, Gerald Undone or Charlie Houpert from Charisma on Command, and they make it look so easy. Natural. Effortless. But I know it’s not effortless. They’re using teleprompters and scripts. They’ve practiced pacing and delivery. They’ve figured out how to make it feel real even when it’s totally planned.

And that’s where I want to be.

But just like with photography, with writing, with interviewing… getting better on camera isn’t about wishing I was better. It’s about doing the reps. I have to do the work.

You can wish, hope, dream about getting better at something all you want. But unless you’re actually out there doing it—taking pictures, writing, speaking—it’s not gonna happen.

Wishing isn’t the work. The work is the work.

I know some people have that natural ability. They pick up a camera or a pen or stand in front of a room of people, and they just get it. That’s not me. Never has been. Every skill I have? It’s because I’ve done it over and over and over again. Hammer on the anvil. Banging out reps. Smashing my thumb. Breaking stuff. But in the end, all that matters is that I’m making something and hopefully that will just keep getting better. I’ll keep getting better.

And there’s something liberating in that. Because talent isn’t the thing that determines success.

The only thing standing between me and where I want to be is the amount of steps I’m willing to take to get there.

The Reality of Skill Development: Reps Over Talent

I’ve spent decades capturing moments. First, it was with photos. Then, it was with audio and video. And now, weirdly, I’m coming full circle back to words. Writing. Structuring thoughts. Working through analogies. Getting the reps in on paper.

It feels different this time, but at the same time, it’s exactly the same. It’s still about sucking at something, practicing and always showing up.

I think talent is overrated. Some people are naturally good at things. Sure. But most of what we call talent? It’s just repetition. It’s grinding through the bad stuff, failing, and figuring it out. The real talent is in not quitting.

The real question isn’t can I be good on camera. The real question is: am I willing to suck at it long enough to get better?

Because that’s where most people stop. They do it once or twice, realize they’re bad at it, and then they quit. But that’s the whole point. You have to be bad at something first before you can ever be good at it.

The Evolution of My Content Creation Process

Right now, my process starts here—walking, talking, rambling into a mic. Then, I transcribe it, post it on Substack. That was the plan. That was supposed to be the whole plan. But then I got stuck.

I thought I needed to refine everything first. Write a perfect article. Script it out. THEN record. But that’s just another roadblock. Another excuse to not hit record.

So, screw that. Here’s the new plan:

• UnRambling → Talk it out, raw and messy.

• Transcript to Substack → Lightly clean it up and post it.

• Podcast-Style Recording → Read it out loud, refine as I go.

• Video Podcast → Record it, add pro audio and lights.

• AI Automation → Let AI chop it into clips and social posts.

And here’s how I see it working in practice. I start with an UnRambling session—just me talking out my thoughts as I go, no filter, no overthinking. Then, I take that raw transcript and do a light cleanup, nothing too polished, and I post it on Substack. Once that’s done, I go back and actually read it out loud, shaping the flow and refining how it sounds when spoken. That’s the practice that helps me smooth it out for when I hit record on video. When I do sit down for the video podcast, I’ve already worked through the message, so now it’s just about delivery—lights, audio, making sure it all comes together. Then, to make the whole process even smoother, I use AI to take that long-form content and break it down into clips for social media, so I’m maximizing what I create without adding extra steps.

The Next Step

And what I really need to do is less un-rambling and more leveraging what I’ve already created. I’ve done the work. The words are there. Now it’s about refining, shaping, and actually putting it out into the world. Because at some point, the process itself can become another excuse to not hit publish. But I felt like this session was necessary—to work through this in real-time, to get it out of my head and onto the page, and hopefully, onto YouTube. Because if I don’t start now, then when? If I don’t take what I’ve already built and make something with it, then what’s the point? So yeah, it’s time. Time to stop hiding behind preparation and just hit reco

Today is Tuesday, February 11, 2025, and I am walking with my three dogs in the forest behind my house.

Looking Back at the Journey

During my morning journaling routine, I reflected on where I’ve been and how far I’ve come over the past few months. While I still have a long way to go, I feel more focused on my style and the message I want to deliver.

As I started walking, I wondered where I was in my journey and how that connected to those around me. I’m now in my late 50s. My kids have graduated from high school—one even from college. Life feels different. My career as a photographer, journalist and storyteller is different, too. Twenty-five years ago, everything looked so different, yet here I am, still figuring things out. Adapting.

Observing the Next Generation

Every year, I photograph hundreds of young athletes in hockey, dance, basketball, football, and soccer—all types of youth sports.

That means I spend a lot of time around young families. I see parents with newborns, toddlers, tweens, and teens. I used to be those parents. But when I see their challenges—not unlike those I experienced, endured, and enjoyed—it’s hard to imagine myself in that stage of life again.

It’s a similar feeling when I see young photographers just starting out—high schoolers, early college grads, and young artists discovering the joy of photography. They post, shoot, and improve at an incredible pace. I’ve watched some go from hesitant beginners to confident professionals in just a few years. Some focus on weddings and newborns, others on sports or senior portraits—watching them find their style and niche is fascinating.

But just like I look at young parents and remember my early days, I look at these fresh photographers and recognize echoes of my own path.

I’m faced with the Realities of Competition

I’d be lying if I didn’t feel the sting of competition sometimes. There are moments when I see younger photographers booking clients who, years ago, would have hired me instead. It’s easy to feel like they’re taking over “my market.” But things have changed. The barriers to entry are lower, and with today’s technology, there are better cameras, editing presets and audience-building tools. I feel like the learning curve is so much shorter nowadays, and feedback is instant.

There’s no waiting to see what the images look like, and there really are no costs to practice. Their path to becoming professional was much faster than mine. Yet, their hunger and willingness to charge less aren’t games I’m willing to play.

And yet, I get it—every generation reshapes the field, just like we did when we started. That’s how things evolve. But it does make me step back and ask myself: What is my role now? What value do I provide?

It made me think about growth and perspective

There’s a quote I heard once: If the best work in your portfolio is more than a couple of years old, you aren’t growing. If you’re still showcasing old work as your best, you’re not evolving. Worse, you're moving backward if your peers and competitors improve while you stay the same.

It forced me to think beyond how to improve to what I want to do next.

I’m at a career stage where many transition into teaching and mentoring. What do I have to offer young parents and photographers? How can I help them grow into the storytellers or “moment capturer” that I was trying to become 25 years ago?

What’s the question everyone asks? “What would I tell my younger self?”

On that note, I've often focused on my value.

When I first started, cameras used film. It was expensive to shoot and process the images. There weren't digital tools, and you had to wait to see the photographs you took. Often, that waiting involved hours in the darkroom souping film and making prints, waiting for things to dry.

Back then, I felt like I was providing a service that was in limited supply. The gear was expensive, skills were hard to acquire, and the barrier to entry was high.

The biggest problem was that no one walked around with megapixel cameras in their pockets. Capturing moments was expensive and cumbersome.

But now that need is met by cellphone cameras and all the new, upcoming photographers.

So, I’m back to asking myself: What unique service can I provide?

The answer lies in what I've learned from so many years in this field. This service is unique to my path and perspective.

Moving Beyond Tricks

I know you can teach an old dog new tricks—because I’m that old dog and still love learning.

But I also know that after decades of photography, there are not many technical tricks I haven’t already learned or experimented with. And honestly, that’s not what excites me anymore.

There’s so much emphasis on learning the latest lighting technique or editing style. But I realized at some point that those things don’t matter most. There’s so much more to a moment than meets the eye. And yet, photography today leans even harder into the illusion—focusing on the aesthetic over the essence. The tricks many photographers use now feel like just that—tricks. They don’t capture the truth.

That’s why I don’t want to spend my time teaching people how to pose or use Photoshop. The internet doesn’t need another tutorial on lighting setups and camera settings, but there is a gap that no one seems to be filling.

My Mission: Capturing What Moments Mean

People don’t know how to document their lives in a meaningful way.

Parents and grandparents lose their stories every day to memory loss, dementia, and the simple passage of time. Even when they do try to capture stories, they default to a dry list of events: "And then this happened, and then this happened…" They don’t ask the deeper questions. They don’t think about why a moment matters. And even if they do, they feel there’s no place to put it.

When families go through old journals, scrapbooks, and memorabilia, there is no system for cataloging the pieces that truly matter. This can be overwhelming. People stumble across incredible details, but they get lost again without structure.

Memories remain scattered, waiting to be rediscovered by chance.

That’s what I want to change.

Instead of competing, I want to help the next generation of photographers and parents understand what moments look like and what they mean. I want to give them the tools and thinking I wish I had when my kids were growing up.

Why This Matters

At the end of the day, our lives aren’t about the images we post. They’re about the stories people tell about us when we’re gone. These stories define who we are and the impact we make.

Parents do their best to raise responsible, hardworking young adults. But as they enter the world, we also have another responsibility: to document who they were. Our job is to capture the nuances of their growth—their thoughts, experiences, quirks—so that one day, they’ll have a record of the journey that shaped them and insights into how they’ve become who they are.

This isn’t just about nostalgia.

It’s about legacy—not in a grandiose, untouchable way, but in a deeply personal sense. It’s about giving the people we love a way to hold onto who they were, where they came from, and the moments that made them.

That’s the work I feel called to do.

Live. Capture. Catalog. Connect. Repeat.

Today is Sunday, February 9, 2025, and I am walking with my three dogs in the forest behind my house.

The Evolution of Capturing Athlete Profiles

For the past 20-30 years, I have focused on capturing what young athletes look like. I’ve spent decades perfecting lighting configurations, experimenting with elaborate lights, smoke, and color gels, and staging photoshoots highlighting dynamic movement—smiling, frowning, laughing, jumping, spinning. I’ve refined my techniques every season, ensuring that each portrait is technically excellent.

Yet, after years of hearing fellow photographers and competitors talk about how a single image can tell a story, I’ve started questioning that belief. The more I think about it, the more laughable the idea that photography alone can genuinely capture who someone is.

The images I create say more about my skills as a photographer—my ability to pose, stage, and light a scene—than they do about who these young athletes really are.

The Limitations of Photography

Photography is an art, but it’s also inherently limited. While a photograph can freeze an expression, it can’t capture the person's deeper thoughts, fears, and aspirations in front of the lens. For example, I can create images that show a senior athlete grinning confidently, but those images don’t reveal what they’re thinking about their future, their anxieties about leaving home, or the hard work it took to get to this point.

This realization has only reinforced my belief that there’s more to a moment than what it looks like. There’s more to who we are than what we look like. And the only way to truly capture that is by asking the right questions at the right time.

The Power of the Right Questions

Senior year is a pivotal moment in a young person’s life. It’s a time when years of dedication—from parents, teachers, coaches, and students—culminate in a transition that will determine their next steps. Graduation represents when a young person leaves the safety of home and ventures into the world on their own.

As a parent who has watched two of my kids go through this transition, I’ve seen firsthand how monumental it is. And it feels irresponsible to leave the documentation of this moment to photos alone. A photograph cannot capture what a few well-placed questions can reveal.

This is where the intersection of photography and journalism becomes critical. When I interview athletes, I see something incredible happen. I ask them about their experiences, their struggles, and their dreams, and in just a few sentences, they reveal something far deeper than any staged portrait ever could.

Interviewing as a Tool for Authentic Storytelling

I often think about one of my favorite authors, Malcolm Gladwell—or maybe it wasn’t Gladwell, but someone in his league—who once said that some of the best profiles are written without ever interviewing the subject directly. Instead, they talk to the people who know them best. And when that profile is handed to the subject, they often respond with awe, saying, “Wow, this is really me. This reveals things about me that I hadn’t even realized myself.”

I’ve had moments like this in my own work. When I interview physicians, I sometimes connect two seemingly unrelated responses, revealing a deeper truth about their philosophy of care. The most powerful moments come when they pause, surprised, and say, “I hadn’t thought about it that way.” I’ve even had to stop interviews because a revelation was so emotionally powerful that it took a moment for the subject to regain composure.

Why Words Capture More Than Images

This is why I believe interviewing is just as important—if not more so—than the photography itself. I’ve spent two hours capturing stunning images of a senior running through fields, chasing golden light, and experimenting with different looks. But then, in a short 15-minute interview, I uncover insights about who they are that no camera could ever capture.

A well-placed question carries an inherent power. Unlike a photograph, which is limited to the surface, a question can dig deep. It can connect past experiences to present emotions, revealing layers of identity that even the person being interviewed may not have consciously realized.

The Role of the Professional Storyteller and Relationship Bias

Photography still has its place. Hiring a professional photographer isn’t just about capturing a senior's appearance—it’s about creating an environment that allows them to express themselves fully. A skilled photographer can capture the way they laugh, the way they roll their eyes, and the tiny, unconscious movements that make them who they are. These are moments that a parent with a smartphone often misses.

But what about the role of a professional storyteller? Just as hiring a skilled photographer results in better images, hiring someone who knows how to ask the right questions in the right setting results in more honest, unbiased answers. This is where relationship bias comes into play. When a friend or family member conducts the interview or even asks the same questions that I would, the responses are often influenced by that existing relationship. The subject may hold back, tailor their answers to what they think the interviewer wants to hear or downplay certain feelings.

This is why it is crucial to have a trained, neutral professional conduct the photoshoot or interview. While parents should absolutely document their child’s journey, they should also recognize the limitations of only taking senior photos. A senior profile—a combination of carefully captured words and images—creates a fuller, richer record of who these individuals are at this critical moment in their lives.

Moving Forward: A New Approach to Senior Profiles

As I close in on the last mile of my walk, I feel a sense of clarity about where my work is headed. I want to refine my process—not just for myself, but for others. I want to develop a framework that allows parents, photographers, and storytellers to document this pivotal moment in a young person’s life in a way that goes beyond appearances.

Imagine if, alongside a senior’s portraits, there was a transcript of their thoughts—a benchmark that captures not just what they looked like but who they were—their fears, excitement, and gratitude.

This is my vision: not just beautiful photographs but beautiful words, a complete story, a record that allows young people to look back years from now and see their face and their journey.

Sean Openshaw is a photographer, videographer, and lifelong storyteller who believes "there’s more to a moment than meets the eye®." He created the Personal Life Record® system—Life Indexing Method™ —to help people live, capture, and catalog meaningful moments, creating a foundation for preserving their life stories. Because to have good stories is to live forever.

Today is Saturday, February 8, 2025, and I am walking with my three dogs in the forest behind my house.

Where My Creative Process Meets My Goals

Lately, I’ve been trying to map out how my content fits together—how my writing, UnRambling sessions, and other creative work intersect to form something coherent and meaningful.

I know I don’t want to write just for the sake of writing.

As much as I love the craft, I don’t feel like writing, in and of itself, is my ultimate purpose right now.

I admire beautifully crafted pieces in The New Yorker—narrative profiles that masterfully capture a person’s essence. I feel the pull when I read them: I want to do THAT. The same feeling arises when I see a photographer’s work that moves me. It’s the intoxicating mix of knowing I have the skill and wanting to refine it. But I also recognize that my energy is better spent building something—an audience, a community, a framework—rather than simply chasing polished work in isolation.

At some point, I can see myself writing for The New Yorker or creating long-form profiles that seamlessly weave pixels and prose. But none of that matters if I don’t first create a way for people to engage with my work.

Crafting a Thoughtful and Sustainable Content Workflow

This UnRambling session is an extension of the strategic thinking I started earlier today—figuring out how all my content pieces fit together, what purpose they serve, and what I want my audience to take away from them.

One thing I know for sure is that my best ideas develop over time. I expose myself to different creative influences, absorb aspects of the work I admire, and mix them with my skills and perspective. Over time, this process has helped me refine my unique approach. But I also recognize the need to be intentional about what I don’t want to do.

There’s a line I won’t cross regarding content creation. I’ve followed many creators on YouTube, Substack, and Medium whose work was once rich, helpful, and generous. But inevitably, there comes a moment when their content shifts—when they start prioritizing monetization over impact. The content often loses its soul when someone launches a course or puts their best ideas behind a paywall. I can pinpoint the day I lost interest in some of these creators.

That’s not to say I don’t see the value in paid content. I spend thousands of dollars yearly on courses, templates, and learning resources. But what I do know is that free ideas spread. If I lock my best insights behind a paywall, it will instantly limit the impact I want to make. My goal is to provide value first, to make a difference in people’s lives, and to create content that resonates.

Avoiding the Hype-Driven Approach

Another thing I can’t stomach? The high-energy, exaggerated personalities that dominate certain corners of the internet. I don’t want to be that person shouting into a camera, using hype to sell an idea. Sure, I recognize that this approach works—it’s why these content creators have massive followings. But it’s exhausting to think that success might require me to present myself in a way that feels fake or performative.

I want my community built on thoughtfulness, depth, and authenticity. I don’t want to create a superficial camaraderie with my audience, pretending we’re lifelong friends after just a few interactions. Instead, I want to foster genuine connections to create a space where people contribute ideas and refine them together.

The Structure of My Content Strategy

Refining into 1,000-Word Articles

I shape the core ideas from my UnRamblings into well-structured articles. To me, 1,000 words are the perfect image of an article—a concise yet detailed narrative that paints a complete picture of an idea. It’s often said that a picture is worth 1,000 words, and I believe that 1,000 words are worth an entire image of thought clarity. It’s the right balance between depth and brevity, long enough to provide substance but short enough to remain engaging. This structured approach allows me to deliver one fully realized idea in each piece without overwhelming my audience.

Distilling into 400-500 Words for Medium.com

Following Seth Godin's approach, I refine the longer piece to its tightest, most essential form. Stipping down a longer article forces me to sharpen my message, making it more compelling and leaving readers wanting more.

Video Content for YouTube

After writing the idea, I can present it naturally in a video format. By this point, the concept has bounced around and evolved into something clear and actionable.

Personal Life Record Blog

Finally, I integrate everything on my platform, linking Substack, Medium, and the work I’m doing on my photography website and YouTube so that all paths lead back to the larger mission.

Developing Workshops and the Masterclass

Beyond my core content strategy, I’m also considering practical tools to help people implement these ideas in their lives. One challenge I’m still figuring out is where to host downloadable resources, such as workbooks and handouts for in-person and virtual workshops. I want to refine these materials based on live feedback before making them publicly available.

At the same time, I see value in eventually developing a comprehensive masterclass. Much like Charisma on Command provides hours of free, high-value content before offering a full course, I want to ensure that people can gain deep insights from my work before ever being asked to pay for something. The masterclass would assemble all of my ideas, tools, workbooks, and worksheets into one cohesive, actionable process, giving people the entire method in an organized, step-by-step manner.

The Path Forward

I don’t have an audience yet, and while that might feel discouraging, I also see it as an opportunity. This is my time to fine-tune my message so that by the time I’m “found,” I’ll have a deep library of work, a structured content strategy, and a process that gradually hooks people in.

I want to intrigue people with short, thought-provoking ideas on Medium, guide them to longer, in-depth pieces on Substack, and ultimately show them how Life Indexing and the Personal Life Record system can transform how they capture and reflect on their lives. Whether they DIY with the free content or join my curated masterclass and community, I want them to feel empowered rather than trapped behind a paywall.

I believe the right people will eventually find this work. When they do, I want them to see a well-organized, authentic, and deeply meaningful system carefully built from the start.

Sean Openshaw is a photographer, videographer, and lifelong storyteller who believes "there’s more to a moment than meets the eye®." He created the Personal Life Record® system—Life Indexing Method™ —to help people live, capture, and catalog meaningful moments, creating a foundation for preserving their life stories. Because to have good stories is to live forever.

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Today is Friday, February 7, 2025, and I am walking with my three dogs in the forest behind my house.

The Reverse UnRambling Process

For a long time, my UnRambling process has followed the same structure. I take an idea, let it develop over a long, freeform recording while I’m out in nature, transcribe it, and then sift through the thoughts to find the most compelling themes. From there, I distill those themes into a structured article, tightening it into a 1,500-word piece on Personal Life Record and eventually an even punchier, Seth Godin-style article for Medium. The final step is a video between the short article and the long-form piece—a concise but compelling visual exploration of the topic.

But today, as I was writing, I found myself thinking about an earlier idea I had. Since I had already processed the concept multiple times, even proposing a TED Talk about it, I was able to create a short, compelling article in one go. That got me thinking: What if I reversed my usual process?

Starting Small and Expanding

Instead of starting with a long-form UnRambling session and narrowing it down, what if I started with a short, punchy article between 400 and 600 words? It's something I could quickly post on Medium. From there, I could expand on the idea by adding personal stories, breaking them into bullet-point steps, or tying them to my larger framework—the Personal Life Record and life indexing.

Once that expansion is complete, I could take the refined idea for a walk—literally. I could bring it into an UnRambling session to see where the thought leads next. The outdoor environment, the rhythm of movement, and the freedom of speaking without immediate constraints could open up new angles and insights that might not emerge in the writing phase.

The Power of Movement and Nature

Something about being outside, about walking with my dogs or running through the hills, seems to unlock a different kind of thinking. Ideas crystallize, problems solve themselves, and concepts that feel stuck in my head suddenly take on new life. I can’t count the number of times I’ve been on a bike ride or a run when I’ve thought, This is it. This is the perfect way to phrase this idea. I’ll never forget it.

And then, just like waking from a dream with the perfect thought in mind, hours later, I’m left with only fragments—if that. It’s frustrating. But it’s also a reminder of why UnRambling exists in the first place. Capturing these insights as they happen gives them a permanence that memory alone can’t guarantee.

The Value of Capturing Thoughts

I’m not a trained psychologist, and I don’t even play one on TV, but I have to believe that this exercise has more than just therapeutic value. There’s something inherently powerful about capturing and articulating thoughts, turning them from fleeting moments into tangible reflections.

Maybe there’s inherent value in thinking itself, even if the thought is fleeting. But I believe that being able to capture these moments—through words, through UnRambling—exponentially increases their value. Having the ability to revisit an idea months or even years later, with all the richness and context of the moment intact, is game-changing.

That’s what makes this process so powerful. Instead of disappearing into the ether, these thoughts become part of a larger, evolving body of work. They provide a way to track the arc of my thinking, to see the polished final product and the journey it took to get there.

A Framework for Meaning

As I wrap up this Reverse UnRambling session, I reflect on where I started—a short, concise article I was working on—and where I ended, exploring a new workflow for developing and deepening ideas. This isn’t just about a different way of structuring content. It’s about how we think, process, and capture the meaning behind the moments we experience.

I don’t fully understand all the implications of running these clips through AI first to transcribe them and then parse them into a cohesive narrative. The benefits, though, feel mind-blowing. They’re game-changing. And I know that doing this the old analog way—trying to capture every thought manually—would be impossible. This technology enables me to capture and refine ideas in ways I never could before.

At the same time, I’m not just doing this for myself. Trying to solve this for me, to create a system that helps me process and capture the meaning behind life’s moments, will hopefully help others do the same. If I can develop a framework that allows people to capture images and the meaning behind them, then this entire process will have been worth it.

This is about finding ways to capture the moments that matter—not just in pixels but in posts—words, ideas, and the stories we tell about our lives.