Over the past week, I spent nearly 10 hours working on a new essay. But the deeper I went, the more I could feel—it just wasn’t the right expression.

This wasn’t my inner critic talking. It was a deeper knowing that this wasn’t what I truly wanted to create or share.

So, rather than pushing forward, I made the call to close the document and walk away. And damn, that’s hard. There’s real pain in letting go of something you’ve poured hours into.

But I also know that forcing something that doesn’t feel fully alive in my system isn’t the way. And I trust that.

The next idea, the next spark, the next true expression—it’ll come when the time is right. I’ll know it.