Tag: mental-health

Rest, Don’t Quit

Last week, I got up every day well before sunrise and kicked in with all eight barrels wide open and didn’t leave the studio until long after that ole sun had dipped below the horizon. For the last few months, large overlapping projects, no breath in between. No real pause. Just that headlong push— the kind, I admit a part of me relishes, leaning into the body temple like it’s an infinite source of fuel. Please note: even the most well built temple can crumble if it’s not respected. And truth be told, I’ve been known to test the limits of this vessel far too many times. Not out of recklessness—but out of love for the work, out of fire for the vision, and sometimes, if I’m honest, out of a lurking fear that if I stop, something might slip away.

Despite rapper and entrepreneur 50 cent’s declaration “Get Rich Or Die Trying”, pursuing your purpose shouldn’t have to kill you. Even the sun goes down. There’s a lesson the great orb in the heavens teaches every evening if we’re still enough to notice. That golden glow of descension isn’t a sign of quitting—it’s a sacred cue to transition. A reminder that even light knows when to rest. That beauty doesn’t just live in the blaze of midday hustle—but in the hush, the slow fade, the surrender, the rest.

Yet we so often glorify the grind (I’m not totally against it), wear exhaustion like a badge, and limp with a smirking pride. What if rest isn’t the enemy of progress—but its partner? What if stepping back now and then is how you step forward with intention? What if your goals need your soul to be whole and rested to rise? I’m learning continuously, even now, that discipline isn’t just about how hard we push. It’s really not so much about how fast or furious we plant, but how deliberate. Even then, we have to wait for the increase. It’s about knowing when to pause. Not to quit, but recalibrating. Not burning out, but burning slow and steady so the flame lasts. So this is me, telling myself and sharing with anybody else who needs to hear it. When the sun sets, let it be a cue. Let the studio close. Shut it down. Let the body breathe. Let the mind drift. Let the spirit sit in its quiet strength. It’s ok to rest. Just don’t quit.

In Search of Okay

This morning, as I lay in bed far past usual, with the sunlight spilling into the room, my mind circled around a familiar yet complicated idea of being okay. What does it really mean to be okay, to be alright? Not in the way we toss it around in passing conversations, but in the quiet, honest places within ourselves. On the path I’ve chosen — this project-based, often unpredictable existence as an artist, I find myself constantly moving between points — this project, that commission, this opportunity, that possibility. And in every moment, I realize I’m often searching for a position where I can quietly say to myself, I’m okay. Not necessarily victorious. Not defeated. Just okay. Okay with where I am, or where I thought I’d be by now. It’s a constant negotiation between expectation and acceptance.

When we meet people, we ask how they’re doing. “I’m okay.” “I’m alright.” Simple words that cover so much. Sometimes they’re true. Sometimes they’re placeholders. And sometimes, they’re shields we use to keep the deeper, heavier parts at bay. Lately, I’ve started to wonder — what do I mean when I say I want to be okay? Is it peace? Is it progress? Is it simply a quiet wrinkle in time where everything doesn’t feel like it’s pressing in? Am I hoping for a point in my life, or my work, where I can be completely alright with what is? And if so… does that place even exist, or are we forever chasing it, catching only glimpses as it moves just out of our reach?

I’m learning that maybe okay isn’t a permanent destination. Maybe it’s a fleeting pause — a breath — a fragile alignment between what’s happening around me and what’s happening within me. It’s the moment I stop measuring, stop chasing, and simply allow myself to be. Today, I’m in search of an okay that may not be a finish line or a reward, but a quiet, honest moment where I can say to myself, I’m alright… as I am, right here, right now. And maybe for today, that’s enough. So if you find yourself searching too, know that sometimes, okay isn’t a place you arrive at — it’s a moment you allow.