Driving Into The Fog

I don’t know the whole road.
I never have.
But I know the next step.
And today, that’s enough.
I’m learning to move without forcing,
to heal without rushing,
to trust my body instead of fighting it.
Some days that looks like walking instead of proving.
Writing instead of pushing.
Listening instead of reacting.
I used to think progress meant pain.
That if I wasn’t exhausted, I wasn’t trying hard enough.
But my body taught me something different.
Healing happens when I choose presence.
Strength comes after patience.
I’m not here to return to old patterns.
I’m here to outgrow them.
What didn’t work falling away
is not rejection —
it’s redirection.
I don’t need the full map.
I just keep driving into the fog,
trusting that each small step
reveals the next one.
I create because it keeps me alive.
I share because it’s honest.
I move because my body remembers how.
I’m planting seeds —
art, words, sound, stillness —
and I trust they will bear fruit
in their own time.
Health first.
Creativity front and center.
Courage in small daily acts.
I don’t need permission to live this way.
I only need to keep showing up.
I am healing.
I am becoming.
I am grateful.
And I trust where this path is leading me.