Every creative path includes moments of recovery — not just from burnout, but from self-doubt, distraction, and life itself.

Think about working out. When you find your rhythm, it feels great — your body gets stronger, the effort feels lighter. But when life knocks you off track, momentum fades fast.

So when we start again, it feels hard. Maybe even more defeating — you catch yourself thinking, 'I was so good,' 'It used to be easy,' 'What happened to me?'

These return points are the real tests — not because we’re starting from zero, but because we remember what ‘better’ used to feel like.

I feel this all too often — not only when it comes to exercise but also with art. This weekend, I overexerted myself at a festival, staying up late and partying with friends. Now I’m completely exhausted — and it’s showing in my writing. Ideas come less fluidly. I feel less confident in what I’m writing. It feels like what I’m putting down is worse than usual.

So I have to remind myself: these are the critical moments. When we are most fragile — when it feels like our work is its worst — we show up anyway. We have to stand up and reject the voice inside that tells us to stop.

How much easier would it be to say, "I'm just not going to write today," under the guise of rest and recovery? It’s not to say we should ignore rest when we need it — but rather to say that we should show up no matter what, even if it's just writing a single word on the page. There is magic in the consistency and beauty in showing up, however imperfect.

This slide-and-climb is part of the process — and even today, with my aching body, I’m choosing to climb. When we slip back, let’s not stew in frustration. Let’s stand up and climb again. And yes, rest where we must — but show up each day. Even on the recovery days.