I want to start walking again.
Simple enough, right?
Except apparently I can't just... go for a walk.
No, no.
First I need to decide how many days a week I'm walking. How far? Are we tracking steps? Should I be doing Zone 2? Do I need one of those weighted vests everyone suddenly owns?
And obviously I should make a playlist.
Wait. What shoes am I wearing?
Maybe I should look up a walking plan.
Thirty minutes later, I've researched an entirely new lifestyle and still haven't actually gone outside.
Please tell me I'm not the only one who does this.
Somewhere along the way, we got really good at turning the smallest desire into a whole freaking thing.
You want to read more? Excellent. What are we reading? How many books this year? Fiction or nonfiction? Should we make a list? Maybe join a book club?
You miss being creative? Fun!
Until you've researched supplies, cleared a workspace, watched six people on Instagram who are already better at it than you and briefly considered whether you could sell whatever you're making on Etsy.
Ma'am.
You wanted to paint. Go paint.
I laugh at this because I recognize it in myself, but I also think there's something underneath it worth paying attention to.
We have a tendency to make things count by making them significant.
If I'm going to exercise, it should contribute to a fitness goal. If I'm going to spend time writing, I should probably do something with it. If I'm going to learn something, perhaps I need a course. If I'm going to make a change, I need a plan for how I'm going to sustain it.
And listen, I love a good plan. Give me a goal, some moving pieces and a blank piece of paper and I'm probably pretty happy.
But not everything needs a strategy.
Some things are allowed to just make your life better today. That's it. No measurable outcome required.
And I wonder if we've forgotten that a little.
Because when everything has to become something, starting gets weirdly complicated.
You can't just make one dinner that makes you feel good. Now you're “getting back on track.” You can't go to bed early because you're tired. You're fixing your sleep schedule. You can't put your phone down and sit outside for ten minutes. You're beginning a digital detox.
You can't pick up something you used to love because you miss it.
We need a PLAN.
And then the plan requires enough energy that sometimes we decide we'll start later. Monday sounds good. Or the first of the month. Definitely after vacation.
Which is kind of funny when you think about it.
We took something that could've happened in the next ten minutes and built enough infrastructure around it that now we can't possibly begin today.
I think we do this with bigger things too.
There are seasons when you don't feel quite like yourself. You know you're off, but you don't necessarily know what would fix it.
So naturally, you start looking for the answer.
What routine do I need? What habit am I missing? What needs to change? Who am I becoming?
All fair questions.
But sometimes I wonder if finding your way back to yourself starts with something much less impressive.
Something you like. Something that makes you laugh. Something you haven't done in a while for no other reason than you enjoy it.
Something that makes you think, Oh. There I am.
That's what happened to me recently with music.
I've been in a season of transition, closing a chapter that had been a big part of my life and identity for a long time. And one day I started listening to music again in the car.
That's it.
I wish I had a more profound story for you.
I wasn't doing some intentional exercise in rediscovering myself. I was driving my kids around, put on music I actually loved and realized how good it felt.
Like... really good.
I felt lighter. More alive. More like me.
And there was nothing to accomplish with it. I didn't need to turn it into a morning routine. I didn't need to track how many days in a row I listened to music. I definitely didn't need to make a vision board about it.
I just needed to turn the music up.
That's what made me start thinking about how often we overlook these tiny things because they don't seem important enough to matter.
But what if they don't have to lead anywhere?
What if something can be good for you without becoming a goal? What if you can do something because it makes you feel like yourself and let that be enough?
There's a story in Scripture I keep coming back to here.
Elijah had just come through this enormous, intense season and completely crashed afterward. And God's first response wasn't another assignment.
He gave him rest. Food. Water. Basic things.
There would be more ahead for Elijah, but God didn't make him figure all of that out first. He met him where he was.
I love that because I think sometimes we're asking ourselves for a five-year plan when what we actually need is lunch and a good song.
That's not giving up on growth. It's remembering we're people while we're doing all this growing.
There will be goals worth pursuing, habits worth building and plans worth making. There will be things that require discipline and consistency and doing them when we don't feel like it.
But everything good in your life doesn't need to become one of those things.
Some things can simply be good.
So if you've been waiting to feel more like yourself again, resist the urge to make finding her your next giant project.
What have you always loved? What have you stopped doing because life got busy or it didn't seem productive enough? What sounds good today?
Start there.
Not because it's secretly step one of your new life plan.
Please don't make it a plan already.
Do it because you're allowed to enjoy your own life while you're figuring it out.
Turn up the music. Go for the walk. Read the book. Sit outside. Make something badly.
And if it makes you feel a little more like yourself?
Well, there you are.
Want to keep going with this conversation?
🎧 Listen to Episode 53: Finding Your Way Back To Yourself →