Persistence

Not every carrot is worth chasing. The art is pausing mid-bite, mid-scroll, mid-ping, and asking: which one really matters right now?

BRB. Gone fishin'.

Some temptations shout. Others barely murmur. Either way, the real work is noticing them — and choosing whether to lean in or let them pass.

Worn out, but wired. Muscles heavy, mind sparking. The kind of tired that feels less like collapse and more like proof you showed up.

Tiny logs, tiny reps. Proof you showed up today, in whatever shape it took.

The rollercoaster of misses, near-misses, and breakthroughs—all summed up in a single soundtrack: OH NO! OH YES!

My timer goes off. A sharp beep yanks me out of the fog, drops me at a fork in the road: keep diving deeper, or surface now and breathe.

Traveling today. Everything feels a little sideways. That’s just how travel mornings go. Off tempo, but you still try to move with it.

Humility is refusing to inflate yourself—again and again. Trusting that effort will speak louder than ego ever could.

Ideas don’t just appear. You train for them. Scribbles, scraps, silent reps. Practice when nobody’s watching so you’re ready when it counts.

The work isn’t about outdoing your best. It’s about showing up, writing through doubt, and stacking small steps until they become something bigger.

A problem is like a maze: no clarity, just walls and dead ends. The only way forward—scout, leap, map, move. And trust that together, you’ll find the way out.

Decisions aren’t clean. They’re messy. A conversation between your head, heart, gut, and hands. They collide, they argue. And when the moment comes, it’s always the same: a leap of faith.

Think about what you need. Take the break when you need it. Be honest with yourself—before the work carries more weight than it should.

Running into the wind feels unfair. But maybe that’s the point — you don’t wait for perfect weather, you learn to move forward even when it pushes back.