P.S. I question everything. In modern-day jargon, I’m a mismatcher.

My senior thesis in high school?
“Did Jesus Christ Actually Exist?”
And—I’m Armenian.
We were the first nation on Earth to adopt Christianity as a national religion.

Back in 1971, the only source was the Encyclopedia Britannica (anyone remember that?), plus two controversial books of the time:

• The Sacred Mushroom and the Cross, which claimed the disciples were probably tripping on psychedelics.
• The Passover Plot, which suggested the whole thing was a hoax.

But here’s the wild thing: even back then, the historical evidence made one thing pretty clear—someone existed at that time named Jesus.
And the known details of his life?
He was crucified for his beliefs.

Whether or not you believe he was the Son of God, one thing hit me like a lightning bolt:
Imagine the conviction.
Choosing scourging and crucifixion over renouncing what he believed.

(And by the way—scourging makes flogging look like a spa treatment. It literally rips the skin off your body.)

So let me ask:
How much conviction do you have?
We complain about giving up cookies. Ooh, boo hoo.
We can’t drag ourselves out for a 6am run.
We can’t quit sugar or cigarettes or doomscrolling.

Jesus chose crucifixion over abandoning his truth.
Let that settle in for a second.

If we lived with even one-millionth of that conviction, we’d walk through life like immortals.

And it’s not just Jesus.

• Moses went 40 days without food or water—a spiritual fast that makes our juice cleanses look like snack breaks.
• Buddha gave up life as a prince and left his family to seek truth.
• Muhammad spent years in solitude and sacrifice before Islam emerged.
• And just now, our Muslim friends completed Ramadan—fasting from sunrise to sunset, every day for 30 days. Not for weight loss. Not for trend. For discipline. For connection to the divine. That kind of commitment humbles the rest of us.

Even the ant puts us to shame—it can lift 10x its own body weight.
What if we had the conviction of an ant?

Now imagine—not just borrowing that conviction—but being reborn with it.
That’s what Easter could mean.
Not eggs. Not chocolate. Not guilt.
Reinvention. Rebirth.

We are, quite literally, on the edge of something profound.
Science is catching up.
We’re starting to understand energy, consciousness, and the interconnectedness of all life in ways that echo what ancient texts said all along.
Faith and science aren’t enemies—they’re converging.

So if you’re feeling lost, lazy, or just low-grade disappointed in yourself—
this season is your reset button.
You don’t have to be perfect.
You don’t have to nail yourself to a cross.

But don’t live like a sloth.

Choose conviction.
Choose rebirth.
Choose one thing worth sacrificing for—and start.

Happy Easter. Happy Passover. And a belated Happy Ramadan.