Today was a reminder that discipline doesn’t always look like the gym. Sometimes the gym is the kitchen, the mind, the vision. No workout today—because today I was in beast mode in my work. My first event under my new rebrand, and I cooked with intention: every flavor balanced, every plate aligned, every move deliberate. And that’s exactly how it landed—flawless, even with a few hiccups that tried (and failed) to throw me off my path. What made today different wasn’t just execution—it was presence. I’ve catered for this incredible group for years, but this time I stayed. I networked. I learned. I received. As a Black-owned business entrepreneur, this is everything for me. It feeds my soul and my long-term vision. I met new faces, reconnected with people who have watched me grow—and this time, they didn’t just see my work… they saw my life vision. Today, every avenue of my brand grew a branch. That alone almost brought me to tears. This is where positive delusion meets preparation. Manifestation backed by motivation. Vision paired with action. I spoke up. I laughed freely. I took up space. And I did it in a room that will hold moments I’ll remember for a long time. If you ever feel “crazy” for believing in what you’re building— remember: it’s only crazy to people who can’t see what you see. To the right ones, we’re not delusional… we’re painting masterpieces in real time. My laces are tied. And I’m running for it.

Today tested me. I was tired before I even started. Sugar was the second thing I consumed. I sat in my car outside the gym, dreading my own commitment — the one I made, not anyone else. Inside, the music didn’t hit. My body felt heavy. Everyone around me looked focused, successful, consistent (at least from the outside). And I had a clear choice: - leave and feel relieved for an hour - or stay and build something I can’t fake So I stayed. I pushed harder than planned. Extra squats on an upper-body day. One more set when quitting felt reasonable. And then something unexpected happened. An older man came over to talk about the machine I was using. He told me it was one of the best in the gym — favored by pro athletes — and that strong calves are essential for longevity. But what stayed with me most was this: “Treat yourself like a winning race horse. Train yourself hard. Treat yourself well.” That’s the balance most people miss. Discipline without care breaks you. Care without discipline stalls you. And then — as if to underline the lesson — I found out he’s the owner of the gym. Spirit has a way of confirming truth when you’re willing to stay long enough to hear it. This reminded me why I’m doing this. I don’t just want a business. I’m building a brand — and I am the beginning of it. Discipline quietly. Live the work honestly. Let excellence compound. That’s the practice.

Consistency doesn’t always show up on quiet mornings. Some days start with good intentions — and then life speaks first. This morning, I planned to get up and focus after my husband left for work. Instead, I slept until my daughter came in needing more rest. A distraction, sure. But also a good one. That’s something I’m learning to hold: not all interruptions are resistance — some are responsibility, some are love. The morning moved fast after that. A fight getting ready for school. Errands that needed attention. The kind of day that can quietly pull you off course if you let it. But here’s where consistency lives — not in perfection, but in intent. Even with everything happening, I got dressed with the intention of making it to the gym. Not because I felt energized — but because I had already decided who I was showing up as today. And I felt joy in that. Part of it was practical: I’m genuinely thrilled with my closet remodel. It made choosing myself easier. It removed friction. It reminded me that environment matters. Consistency isn’t just discipline — it’s design. It’s setting your life up to support the version of you that wants to keep going, even on loud days. Today wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t smooth. But it moved forward. And that’s the practice.

I started The Practice of Moving Forward on a day that didn’t look brave on the outside. It was the same day I quit an in-between job — not because I had everything lined up, but because I knew staying was slowly disconnecting me from myself. That afternoon, my 5-year-old was learning how to ride a bike. They were scared. Wobbly. Unsure. They didn’t know how to balance yet — only that if they stopped moving, they would fall. So they kept pedaling. Watching them, it hit me quietly: this is what moving forward actually looks like. Not confidence. Not certainty. Just motion — even when you don’t fully trust yourself yet. That day, neither of us knew exactly where we were headed. But we both learned the same thing: You don’t wait to feel ready. You move, and readiness follows. This space exists for moments like that — when life is unclear, when transitions overlap, when fear and momentum live in the same body. Here, we practice: - showing up without perfection - choosing one small action instead of freezing - trusting movement more than motivation You don’t need a perfect plan to be here. You don’t need to explain why you’re starting over. You just need to be willing to keep pedaling. That’s the practice. That’s the work. Welcome.