Lately, something has been shifting. It’s subtle, like the way dawn creeps in before you’re fully awake—hazy at first, then unmistakable. There’s a quiet resurgence of magic, not overwhelming, not a tidal wave, but a gentle lapping at the edges of my days. And with it, the urge to create has returned. Not just the thought of making art, but the actual act of it—the hands moving, the ideas forming, the slow, careful emergence of something that wasn’t there before.
I don’t think this is coincidence. The mix of things that have been happening or changing—medications, routines, maybe even the right kinds of thoughts especially amidst the recent upheavals at work with my team being practically decimated—seems to be having surprisingly positive effects, though not yet fully optimized. But something is unlocking. Old dreams are stirring, no longer static artifacts from another life, but something breathing, something possible again.
And so, the question rises: can I make space for art while holding steady in the demands of full-time work? Can the two coexist, not in competition but in rhythm? Can I structure my life in a way that doesn’t push one aside for the other, but lets them fuel each other?
I think the answer is yes.
Because nothing is ever too late.
We get to restart as many times as we need to. And every restart isn’t a reset to zero—it’s a level up. Every time we return to something we love, we bring with us all the experiences, all the hard-won lessons, all the depth that time has given us. The only thing that matters is that we keep moving with truth, with consistency, with clarity about who we are and what we truly want.
This time, I want to move differently. Not in frantic bursts of energy that collapse under exhaustion, but in small, steady victories against the defaults—the habits, the thought patterns, the practicalities that have kept me in stasis before. A new balance can be shaped, slowly, carefully. Work doesn’t have to erase art, and art doesn’t have to be an escape from work. Maybe they can exist as part of the same ecosystem, feeding each other rather than fighting for space.
So I’ll keep leaning into this shift. Keep making things. Keep finding the structure that allows both survival and expression. The magic is here—not overwhelming, but present. And if I nurture it, if I keep showing up for it, it will grow.
And maybe, this time, it stays.
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