change, when it’s not done on my own time, feels like a mask. it feels unauthentic and frail. i’m not saying i’m unwilling to grow — i’m saying that rushing me won’t make anything real.
if i had a new year’s “resolution,” it would be this: slowing down to gain — and keep — the deliberate momentum i’m freely creating, so i can fully thrive in my passions.
it seemed that as soon as december greeted me with a cool touch—like the other side of the pillow—it passed on an essence of…
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