Most change doesn’t begin with courage. It begins with discomfort you can’t quite name.
Not dramatic failure. Not collapse.
Just the slow realisation that the things you built your life around no longer return what they used to.
We’re taught to respond to that moment with action. New plans. New identities. New exits. But in my experience, the most dangerous thing you can do at that point is move too fast.
When something stops working, the instinct is to escape the feeling — to distract, numb, optimise, or burn everything down and start again. That urgency feels productive, but it often comes from pressure, not clarity. This space exists to do something unfashionable: to pause long enough to see what’s actually happening.
Not to fix it yet.
Not to decide.
Just to understand.
If you’re here early, that probably says something about you. You’re not looking for hype or permission. You’re looking for language — for a way to make sense of what you already feel.
That’s enough for now.
Clarity comes before change.
Always.