There’s a wall in your mind sometimes—dense, invisible, impossible.
Not made of thought, but resistance itself.
Not apathy, not laziness, but something older and heavier.
You know it’s there when even the next breath feels like moving through treacle.

You’ve learned to move around it, to perform despite it,
to let it redirect you—without always naming it.
But naming it helps.
It’s not you.
It’s not failure.

It’s just the part of you that learned, long ago,
that starting might cost more than staying still.

And now, maybe, you’re learning something new: that it’s safe to try again.

 

 

 

^{Photo by Paul Zoetemeijer on Unsplash}