Holding yourself accountable is tough. There are nights when the words don’t flow. Where all my thoughts feel like dead ends. And I just want to crawl under the covers and sleep.
Those are the nights you must show up. Those nights define you. When the words are easy it’s fun and feels effortless. But that’s not reality. Reality is hard work. Picking yourself up. Dusting yourself off. And pushing through the hard patches.
I almost went to sleep without posting. But I’m showing up and doing the work even when my whole body is telling me to shut down.
Pressfield’s resistance almost won. And the key is almost. It didn’t win. And it never will as long as I keep showing up. Writing these words. And doing the work I love to do.
Hugs.
