Still in the Well, but Climbing Anyway

I’m writing this from a place I know too well that space between clarity and action. Where the vision is vivid, but the movement toward it is slow. Where I can see the life I want, but still catch myself procrastinating the very work that could bring it closer.

I know what I want. I feel it deeply. A life that feels aligned, where creativity flows, my time is mine, and I’m not constantly rushing to keep up. I want to share what matters to me beauty, wellness, mindset, lifestyle not from a place of perfection, but from presence and depth. I want to grow something lasting. A brand, a body of work, a version of myself I can trust and be proud of.

And yet, I still hit those familiar walls. I still hear the excuses. That soft voice that says, “Not today. You’re too tired. You’ll start when life isn’t so busy.”

But here’s the truth: life is always full. Waiting for it to “slow down” is just a gentler form of self-sabotage. Avoidance wrapped in softness. And the longer I avoid, the heavier the guilt becomes. Not because the dream left me but because I’ve been stepping away from it.

The hardest part isn’t the work itself. It’s restarting. It’s facing the silence after the pause. It’s forgiving yourself for the days, weeks, or even months when you didn’t show up.

And the most painful part? When we don’t show up for ourselves, no one else notices. There’s no missed paycheck. No angry boss. Just that quiet sting of self-disappointment. And somehow we’ve learned to treat that as normal. As acceptable. But it isn’t.

Self-disappointment should matter more. Because if we can’t trust ourselves to keep the promises we make to our own future, what are we really building?

There’s an old story I carry in moments like this. A donkey falls into a dry well. The villagers, thinking there’s no way out, begin to bury it shoveling dirt onto its back. But the donkey, instead of giving in, does something remarkable. With every shovel of dirt, he shakes it off. And then he steps up. Dirt falls. He shakes. He steps. Until the very thing meant to bury him becomes his way out.

That’s what I remind myself. You’re not stuck because you lack passion or ideas. You’re stuck because you forgot to shake and step. You let the weight settle on your back without realizing it could be your ladder.

You don’t need more time. You don’t need a perfect plan. You just need to take one small step. And then another. Even if your voice trembles. Even if you don’t feel ready.

Consistency is love in action. Self-trust is built not in the big wins, but in the quiet days when you show up anyway.

So today, I begin again. I write this not because I’ve figured it all out, but because I haven’t. I’m still in the well some days. Still dusting myself off. Still deciding to try again.

But I am climbing. Slowly. Intentionally. With every word, every post, every gentle promise I keep to myself.

And maybe you are too.

So keep going. Shake it off. Step up. You’re not too late. You’re not too far gone. You’re just one step away from remembering who you are.

Leni