By 
Running Hack Spirit was supposed to be my biggest challenge, then my daughter arrived.
The first week after bringing her home, I found myself at 3 AM, laptop balanced on one knee, baby bottle in hand, trying to review content schedules while she dozed in my other arm.
My wife looked at me from across the room with that expression that said everything without words.
I was failing at the very thing I’d sworn I wouldn’t do: Trying to be everywhere at once while being nowhere fully.
That moment became my wake-up call. Adjusting to fatherhood while keeping Hack Spirit running meant I needed a complete overhaul of how I approached each day.
The old playbook of pushing through and multitasking everything was robbing me of the experiences I’d worked so hard to create space for.
Over these past weeks, I’ve developed five daily practices that have transformed chaos into something resembling balance; a rhythm that honors my work, my family, and surprisingly, myself.
The morning meditation that sets everything else in motion
Before my daughter wakes up, before the Slack messages start flooding in, or before my mind starts racing through the day’s obligations, I sit.
Sometimes for 30 minutes, sometimes for just 5, depending on when that first baby cry pierces the morning quiet.
This is about creating a buffer zone between who I am and what I need to do.
When I skip this practice, I notice I’m more reactive to both crying babies and crisis emails; when I maintain it, I respond rather than react.
The beauty of meditation as a parent and entrepreneur? It trains you to hold space for discomfort without immediately trying to fix it.
Your baby crying doesn’t require panic, while a challenging email doesn’t demand an immediate response.
Both can exist while you breathe, assess, and then act from a place of clarity.
In my book, Hidden Secrets of Buddhism: How To Live With Maximum Impact and Minimum Ego, I write about how Buddhist practice isn’t about escaping life’s demands but learning to dance with them.
Creating sacred boundaries between work mode and dad mode
Here’s what nobody tells you about running a business while raising a newborn: The transitions will kill you faster than the workload.
I used to pride myself on being able to jump between tasks seamlessly, reply to an email while making coffee, take a call while on a walk, and check metrics while watching TV.
However, this scattered attention was poisoning both my work quality and my presence as a father.
Now, I practice what I call “aggressive monotasking.”
When I’m working, my phone goes into a drawer, and my daughter’s nursery door stays closed; when I’m with her, the laptop stays shut and notifications get muted.
The key is the mental ritual I use to cross between modes. Before entering my home office, I take three deep breaths and set an intention for my work block.
Moreover, before picking up my daughter, I do the same by letting go of whatever project or problem I was just wrestling with.
This might sound simple, but try being fully present with a spreadsheet for two hours, then fully present with a baby for the next two.
It’s harder than any meditation retreat I’ve attended, and infinitely more rewarding.
The unexpected power of physical discomfort
Every afternoon, I go for a run.
Physical discomfort has become my reset button. When your lungs burn and sweat stings your eyes, the mental chatter about deadline pressures and sleep deprivation gets remarkably quiet.
The body’s immediate needs override the mind’s endless projections.
Running mirrors the intensity of daily life as a new parent and business owner; it’s uncomfortable, sometimes overwhelming, but always temporary.
Each run reminds me that I can handle discomfort without breaking, that intensity eventually subsides, and that choosing challenge makes involuntary challenges feel more manageable.
My wife initially thought I was a bit mad heading out for a run in the middle of the day, but she’s noticed the difference in how I return: clearer, calmer, more capable of handling whatever the evening brings, whether that’s a fussy baby or an urgent work issue.
Treating parenting as the ultimate mindfulness practice
Want to know the most advanced mindfulness practice available? Try soothing a crying baby at 2 AM when you have a packed schedule at 9.
Every moment with my daughter demands presence in a way that no meditation app or retreat ever has.
Babies don’t care about your five-year business plan. They exist entirely in the now, and they pull you there with them, whether you’re ready or not.
Instead of seeing this as a disruption to my practice, I’ve learned to see it as the practice itself.
When she cries, I notice my body’s stress response, breathe through it, and respond with curiosity rather than frustration; when she smiles, I let myself fully receive that joy without immediately reaching for my phone to capture it.
This approach has revolutionized both my parenting and my work.
In running Hack Spirit, I’m now better at staying present during difficult conversations, at really listening when collaborators share challenges, and at finding joy in small victories rather than always chasing the next milestone.
The evening ritual that prevents tomorrow’s crisis
By 8 PM, I close everything work-related.
This is about giving my brain the space it needs to process and integrate the day.
I spend 15 minutes writing in a journal, not analyzing site metrics or planning tomorrow’s schedule, but simply noting what happened today, what worked, what didn’t, what I’m grateful for, and what challenged me.
This practice, pulled from Buddhist reflection traditions, helps me metabolize experiences rather than just accumulate them.
Afterwards, I put the journal away and become fully available to my family.
We might talk about our days, plan weekend adventures, or just exist together in comfortable silence.
My wife and I have developed our own ritual of sharing one thing that surprised us that day, a practice that keeps us connected despite the whirlwind of new parenthood and entrepreneurship.
Final words
Balance is something you recalibrate daily, sometimes hourly.
Running Hack Spirit while raising a daughter has taught me that the goal isn’t to perfectly separate these roles but, rather, to let them inform and enrich each other.
The patience I’m learning with my daughter makes me better at my work, the strategic thinking from building a business helps me approach parenting challenges with creativity rather than frustration, and the mindfulness practice that grounds both roles reminds me that this intensity is temporary and precious.
Some days I nail all five practices; other days, I’m lucky if I manage two.
However, having this framework means I always know where to return when things feel chaotic.
It’s about having a compass that points back to presence, whether I’m editing articles or changing diapers.
The paradox I’ve discovered? I’m actually more available to everyone by fiercely protecting time for each role and for myself, I accomplish more meaningfully by doing less simultaneously, and I can be something real to the people who matter most by accepting that I can’t be everything to everyone all the time.
This isn’t the life I planned, juggling content deadlines and baby bottles, or editorial calendars and sleep training.
It’s messier, more demanding, and requires constant recalibration; it’s also richer than anything I could have imagined when success meant simply growing a website.