I’ve been moving slowly—not because I’ve given up, but because sometimes rebuilding asks for stillness first.
This part right here—where things are quiet, where the next steps aren’t fully mapped out—this counts too. I used to push myself, always trying to finish one more thing, check off one more task, just to feel like I’d done enough. But lately I’m learning that rest is not the absence of work— it’s part of the process.
It’s in the rest— the unrushed, unplugged, unexpected moments— that I make the kinds of connections I never could on a frantic, task-filled day. Some of my best thoughts arrive when I step away. Some of the clearest answers come when I stop asking. And when I give myself permission to pause, I begin to hear what I’ve been too tired to listen for.
No one teaches us how to honor this part. The part between what broke and what’s being rebuilt. The part where the doing slows, but the becoming begins.
So here I am. Not racing. Not proving. Just standing in the soft soil of my own life and saying:
“This counts too.”
Because it does.
