rest

I didn’t realise I’d lost my rhythm until the small slips piled up — reread emails, skipped lunches, staying late after clarity had gone. Awareness wasn’t a grand fix; it was the quiet question that cut through autopilot: what’s actually happening here? From there, small resets — a pause before replying, water before coffee, an evening cue to switch off — stitched steadiness back together. Not perfect. But mine. This is what returning to rhythm really looked like.