JUST STOP

Sometimes, all you need to do is stop.

Not slow down. Not pause. Completely stop.

Take your foot off the gas. Put the car in neutral. Sit with the stillness.

Distance yourself from the next thing on the list.

Close your eyes. Listen to your breath. Feel it.

Step out of the rush of what was and what will be, and land in the only thing that’s real—right now.

What happened, happened. What will happen, will happen.

Put your worries on hold. If you can, pack them up—like clothes you’ve outgrown but keep around just in case.

And then?

Let them go.

Give them away. Thank them for their time. And move on.

Because here’s something I’ve learned—you can’t let go of something you never loved.

You have to accept it first. Understand it. Even your fears, even your mistakes. You have to make peace with them before you can say goodbye.

Otherwise, they cling to you. They stay like a shadow, waiting for the right moment to resurface.

So, instead of running from them, sit with them. Ask them, "What do you need?"

The way you would ask a close friend, sensing something’s wrong.

Listen to yourself.

Sometimes, all you need to do is stop.