The moment you take that final breath and let yourself sink beneath the surface, something shifts. The world becomes slower, simpler, softer. Everything loud—everything that pulls, pushes, or demands—fades away.

Years ago, when I was learning to surf out at Kuta Reef, I had one of those days. You know the kind—when everything is happening at once. The reef felt sharp and closer than it should, the sets rolled in faster than I could read them, and I was still learning how to duck dive without panic. But the real challenge wasn’t the waves.

We weren’t made to move in straight lines.  We weren’t meant to wake with the same energy every morning, push through fatigue, or stretch ourselves thin across endless to-do lists. And yet, so many of us do—ignoring the quiet calls from our body to slow down, soften, and be still.