I had to beat it to the punch. I know the morning is a fight, so I wait for that punch. Today I didn’t wait. I knew it was coming, so I stepped in ahead of it. I got out of the way by getting started on the way. Once you start, the memory takes over. The start of it, is not how it will feel the whole way through. It just feels worse at the start because you start with nothing. You carry the weight of all the other things you have to do. The mornings are never singular. The mind creates the illusion that it is more than it is. The answer is actually much more simple than that. You are only doing what you are doing. That’s it.
I used to think the morning was a moment—a single choice between staying in bed or not. But I know now it’s a warfront. The first thought is always sabotage, coated in logic and comfort. “Just a few more minutes.” That’s the first blow. If I wait for it, I’m already losing. So I learned to anticipate it, beat it to the swing, and move before it even lands. That one second of early movement buys me the entire day.
The key is never to let the mind run the whole show before the body moves. The weight of the full day will collapse on you if you try to carry it all in thought. But if you simply begin—just start—you wake up differently. The heaviness shifts. You remember that you’re capable. That you’ve done it before. That the body knows what to do. You hand the wheel over to movement, and it drives you forward until the doubt disappears.
There’s such peace in simplicity. That’s the secret I keep having to rediscover. I’m not doing the whole day. I’m just doing this. Just this moment, this rep, this step. There’s no battle with the future. The mind lies, saying you have to lift it all now. But you don’t. All you ever have to do is exactly what you’re doing. And once you accept that, the day becomes much lighter to carry.
