On My Way

I woke up early today,
before the world started asking things of me.
Moved my body.
Shook the sleep loose.
Let the blood remember how to flow.

Jumped on the trampoline,
breathed deep,
let the stillness do its work.

This isn’t a rush.
It’s a rhythm.

I create now the way I used to escape.
But this time,
I’m building something real.

Art on the table.
Breath in my lungs.
Time on my side.

I go live.
I show up.
I make something from nothing
and somehow… people find me.

Not because I’m chasing them.
But because I’m finally walking in my own direction.

I’m close to a thousand eyes watching.
Close to something opening.
Close enough to feel it.

And I don’t need to rush it.
I just need to stay honest.
Stay curious.
Stay in motion.

I’m grateful for this body healing.
For the strength returning.
For the space to grow without burning out.

I’m grateful for the work I did to get here.
For the houses.
For the long nights.
For the patience that built a foundation strong enough to stand on.

I’m not running from work.
I’m running toward freedom.

Toward days filled with paint,
movement,
creation,
and people who see the light in what I do.

I’ll travel.
I’ll rest.
I’ll keep creating wherever I land.

Because this life doesn’t require permission anymore.

I’m building it —
one post,
one breath,
one piece of art at a time.

And I know this:

If I keep showing up,
if I keep trusting the process,
if I keep becoming a little more myself each day…

Then the life I see in my mind
will become the life I wake up inside.

And I’m already on my way.