I know I feel like I’m running out of time.
I know 45 feels like an edge—like I should have more to show for my life, my education, my experience.
I know I hear the clock ticking when I look at my bank account, my empty calendar, my house that’s never as clean as I think it should be.

I know that voice says “You’re too late.” It talks to me a lot. And it’s loud. It often overwhelms every other thing my heart and soul are trying to tell me.
But I also know that’s not the whole truth.

I know I’m not too late to build something that feels soft, free, real.
I know it doesn’t have to look big or perfect or shiny to be worth it.
I know I don’t have to convince anyone that I’m good enough or tidy enough or hustling hard enough.

I know retiring from the old hustle is not the same as giving up—it’s opening myself up for something new, something better, something that fits the person I am right now.
I know I can still plant seeds (like starting a yoga series in town).
I know I can still tend secret dreams in quiet corners of my days (like moving to Europe)
I know I can still pivot. I can still play. I can still show up.
I can still change my mind.

I know I don’t have to get it perfect.
I just have to keep showing up—messy, honest, alive.

That’s what I know right now.