When I was a little girl, I had these hand-me-down shoes that I loved. I wore them everywhere. Anywhere, really. I don't think I cared whether they were appropriate for where I was going. If those were the shoes I wanted to wear, then those were the shoes I was wearing. And when they became too small, I still didn't want to let them go. I would squeeze my feet into them and somehow convince myself that they still fit. I imagine an adult looking at me and thinking, Child, these shoes are clearly too small. Please take them off. But I loved them. And I think about those shoes sometimes when I hear us talk about things like seasons, letting go, releasing, creating room, moving on. Usually, when we talk about letting go, there is something wrong with the thing we're letting go of. It has become toxic. It doesn't serve us anymore. It is holding us back. We have outgrown it. We need to make room for something better. And yes, sometimes that is exactly what letting go looks li...
Survival is a word that carries dignity. To survive is to endure. To push through storms, scarcity, and chaos, and still stand. For many of us, it is the baseline of living: paycheck to paycheck , rent to rent , debt to debt . But survival, as noble as it sounds, has a hidden cost. And it is one we rarely calculate because we are too busy moving from one crisis to the next. Survival mode is not free—it drains imagination, steals joy, and shrinks the horizon of what we believe is possible. What Living in Survival Mode Does to the Mind When every day is about making it to the next, the brain rewires itself to focus only on the short term. Tomorrow becomes invisible. Dreams that once felt urgent are folded away in the dusty corners of the mind. Why plan for five years if you aren’t sure how you’ll pay this month’s bills? Why risk starting something new if you can barely hold on to what is in your hands? In this way, survival mode slowly erodes possibility. It convinces us that smal...