The other night I was ruminating on all the “how-tos” of life—next steps in my work, business, and relationships. Frustration crept in. I felt the pull to retreat to the familiar: go back to my old career, settle for situations that felt stuck, abandon what I’ve built. My context was discouragement; my emotional energy swung from grit to exhaustion to hopelessness. I was putting in the hours, the research, the work—yet something was off.

Today, I breathe deeply and make space for my flaws and my scattered mind. I let them run until they’re done—like a dog who plays itself tired, or a child who cries into sleep. As the observer of my thoughts, I know they don’t define my essence. Yet sometimes they’re loud, sharp, indifferent. Today, I let them pass and I watch without judgment.