Yes, life’s a learning curve. I started out running before I even knew how to walk. I dreamed of flying, but was too scared to jump. I always rushed to be somewhere — anywhere but here. But lately, I’ve begun to understand that slowing down and being present isn’t so bad after all — it’s actually where the magic happens.

I used to be restless.
Always on the run — from places, from people, from myself.
Always on the edge.
Never content with what I had.

Faster. Higher. Stronger. Bigger. More.
I always wanted more.

More freedom — less responsibility.
More happiness — less grief.
More time — fewer obligations.
More money — less work.
More. More. More.

I always thought growth was found in change — in acceleration.
The next adventure. The next country. The next mountain to climb. The next version of myself.
I grew up believing that productivity was the measure of my worthiness.
I grew up believing I’d need to have it all figured out by twenty-one.
(Side note: I don’t think there ever comes a time when you’ve got everything figured out — and that’s okay.)

I noticed the biggest growth often happens when life brings you to a full stop.
Because in that stillness, I found calmness. Inner peace.
The awareness that I didn’t always need to be on the move or plan three steps ahead.
(It’s a bit of a delusion anyway, to think my plans are also the universe’s plans…)

I had to learn to go with the flow — to trust that life, or whatever higher force is out there, will lead me wherever I’m meant to be. And most importantly, that I’m enough — just the way I am. Quirks and special effects included.

Now, I’m looking for less.
Less noise. Less distraction. Less pressure. Less proving.
Somewhere along the journey, my focus and priorities shifted.

I don’t have a bucket list anymore that I need to complete before I’m six feet under.
I’ve already done and experienced so much — and I’m teaching myself gratitude.
Any new experience I get the chance to encounter will simply add to it.

I’m still restless at times.
But I’m aware now when I want to run. And I can bring myself to walk instead.
I’m more content with what I have and where I am.
I can work through the emotions.

I used to want more of everything — especially the superficial things.
Now I want more of what matters.
More honesty. More depth. More mornings that feel slow and full. More love.
More moments where I’m not performing, but simply being.

In a way, it feels like returning to the roots of it all.
It was fun being free like a bird, moving from one thing to the next — but at a pace where I couldn’t truly enjoy any of it.
Now, it feels like I’m ready to plant my roots in the ground.
To deepen my connection to the world — and let my branches and leaves be moved by the wind every now and then.

Until we meet again — I’m going on a walk.