I was walking to my apartment last week, and I had a realization.

I made my way across the street, looked up at the seventh floor of my building where I live,

and the elevator there is obnoxiously slow.

And being someone that hates waiting, I've come to realize that I can actually make it to my door

in the same amount of time,

if not a little bit quicker, by taking the stairs.

But that particular night, as I looked up, maybe because it was late and the stairway

lights were more visible than I'd ever seen them, it felt for the first time like a big deal. It was the first time since I'd been

there that I felt annoyed with having to climb those steps. It was the first time I'd ever really

seen or examine or thought about the gap between where I start and where I finish every time

I take those steps. Usually I just go, right? It's just one step at a time, no production.

It's not a chore.

It's how I get home.

It's how I skip waiting two minutes for that elevator.

30 seconds up.

Slips by in the blink of an eye.

Sometimes things just come to you at the perfect time.

I needed to be reminded of that at this point of my life.

Some big projects coming up and I'm making an effort to pivot, push harder than I've ever had.

Things sometimes feel bigger than they really are and more complex than they need to be.

And I believe this was life telling me the only way to lose is to be intimidated by the top of those stairs, by the road to be traveled.

I've done things in my life that felt crazy or complex from the outside looking in, but

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