Before it even has a chance to say a word, you have to beat it to the punch. Once you punch, you keep punching until it’s knocked out. Until you finished everything you planned to do all in the morning. That’s what I managed today. I woke up and I knew that if I closed my eyes after my alarm, I was not getting up. I knew that I would have excuses ready to go for when I do decide to contemplate it. So instead of letting that same old process play out, I decided to try something. I decided that right when I get up I should do some push ups. Get some momentum going forward before I even formulate my first thought. My first thought should just be my awareness of the action I’m doing. I understand why I’m doing it. Now, can I do it again tomorrow?
It’s always waiting for me—that voice. It doesn’t yell anymore. It just waits, subtle and ready, knowing that the moment I hesitate, it can slip in and start working on me. So I cut it off. I don’t give it time to speak. That’s the method now: act before thought, move before doubt. Even one push-up is a declaration. A signal to my body and mind that today, I move with intention.
There’s something powerful about stealing the first moment of the day for yourself. Not checking a screen. Not bargaining with comfort. Just action—pure, clean, direct. No filter. That kind of momentum changes the shape of the day. It rearranges my priorities without needing to explain itself. Because once the body is in motion, the mind follows. It’s a reversal of the old script, and it works.
The question isn’t whether I can do it again tomorrow—it’s whether I’ll remember what it felt like today. That clarity. That edge. If I can carry that memory forward, then yes, I can do it again. Not just once, but over and over. Until the silence of hesitation is completely replaced by the hum of movement. That’s the rhythm I want to live in. That’s the future I want to wake up into.