keep walking

some days don’t go as planned. and maybe that’s the point.

i woke up early today. i tried to get ahead of the day, to catch up to something in me that wants to keep moving forward. and then, just like that, the plan shifted. it felt strange—paying to be in a room that didn’t feel like mine. so i left. not out of fear, but out of knowing.

still, i didn’t want to return to where i came from. going back felt like sinking into sleep again, like letting the weight of the day pull me under. so i walked. and i walked some more.

i ate something simple and heavy and good. i got lost. the sun was sharp, the city confusing, but something in me kept moving. and i realized—this is what it means to be alive. to walk in the wrong direction, and still trust your feet. to know that even in the heat, even in the missteps, you're getting somewhere.

every time i step outside, i learn something new about myself. i remember that old line from a book i loved as a child: “you’re off to great places!” but no one tells you that great places come with wrong turns, awkward goodbyes, strange meetings, sweat, doubt, hunger, and learning how to keep going.

i’m learning that forward doesn’t always look like progress. sometimes it just looks like not giving up on the day. not giving up on yourself.

and i think that’s more than enough.