Action Before Fear
Some mornings I look like I’ve got it together.
Other mornings I’m just keeping the thread from snapping, hair doing whatever it wants.
I catch myself hovering a lot—thinking, circling, almost-starting.
Then somehow I’m already in it, half-dressed, half-ready, still moving.
Not brave. Not confident.
Just mid-step, a little amused, showing up as-is.
That seems to be the way lately.
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