I remain here, though every unfinished page keeps tempting me to believe I have already given enough of myself for one lifetime, silencing the perfectionist within,
I remain here, because walking away from what I have finished has always been easier than facing the imperfect work still asking for another hour of my heart,
I remain here, accepting that devotion is less about brilliance and more about the willingness to persist even after exciting moments that passes by,
I remain here, have I mistaken losing momentum as a failure that I needed to overcome for losing the purpose of the calling itself,
I remain here, as I don’t spend my work on motivation itself, the work recognizes my return…
I honor the moment, knowing some seasons of my life arrive carrying more than I could have planned for with careful discipline alone can do,
I honor the moment, refusing to interrupt what is still unfolding and what is already planned, simply because my schedule insists it should already be over,
I honor the moment, grateful that not every meaningful gift asks permission before rearranging the rest of my day but the day itself is a gift I should value,
I honor the moment, when something sacred asks for more of me do I answer or do I negotiate the purpose behind each and every opportunity,
I honor the moment, as I willingly accept what comes along my way, my excuses quietly leave the room unnoticed…
I finish writing anyway, despite the persistent voice urging me to revise one more time, convinced that it will finally make me worthy of starting, however, I will move on and recognize that there’s more to it.
I finish writing anyway, remembering how many dreams have quietly disappeared while waiting to become flawless before they could even exist in my own hands,
I finish writing anyway, trusting that an honest imperfect offering carries more life than an untouched idea locked inside fear, and perfectionism,
I finish writing anyway, regardless of the challenges I face, have I been prioritizing excellence over completion,
I finish writing anyway, as I take it day by day, week by week, month by month, those imperfect hands finally disappear…
I offer everything, understanding that what passes through me was never mine to imprison inside hesitation or endless preparation,
I offer everything, choosing faithfulness to the work before applause, before recognition, and before the comfort of being understood,
I offer everything, believing that my responsibility is not to control where this offering travels but simply to release it with gratitude and authenticity,
I offer everything, if this became the last page I ever wrote would I still leave part of my heart behind, or just be willingly voice out what comes and what goes,
I offer everything, with what I have now. Every blessing of wisdom entrusted to my hands was never meant to remain with me, but to find its wings in the lives it touches…
Watchwords:
The work recognizes my return
My excuses quietly leave the room
Imperfect hands finally let go
Faithfulness before applause
What was entrusted finally learns to fly
Here is Tikatarot, who dares you to answer the question, “Who am I?”..
As and will always be reminding you to dream: