Our superstitions have licked their fingers and stuck them in the air, waiting on the wind.
Which way will this year go?
Groundhog Day is coming.
I donāt hold as many beliefs as I once did.
And no one really talks about the strain of belief when youāre youngā
how much emotional fuel it requires to keep faith burning hot.
Youthful passion is hyped.
But passion is disciplineās fiery mistress.
She burns bright, demands everything,
and rarely stays without compromise.
The sticky, gooey center of it all?
Discipline is only discipline if you donāt want to do it.
And discipline, at its core, is action shaped by belief.
Which makes me wonderā
as beliefs thin out or changeā¦
what actions remain?
Maybe thatās the quiet work of this season.
Not predicting the wind.
But choosing which small, unglamorous actions weāre willing to repeat anyway.