The process isn’t all light and flow. Sometimes it’s aching muscles trembling with tiredness, pushing boundaries to grow stronger and more flexible. It’s the stiffness that locks the mind and hands, when everything feels dry, blank, and far from inspired.

Yet beneath that exhaustion, our souls are screaming to be heard — craving expression, connection, and meaning. That tension between the worn-out body and the restless spirit is where the magic hides.

In yoga, that’s where breakthrough lives — in the surrender to discomfort, the patient embrace of every ache and tremble.

In creativity, that’s where truth is born — in the stubborn refusal to give up, in showing up when the well feels dry, in wrestling with blank pages and tangled thoughts.

Loving the process means loving this gritty, painful, exquisite dance. It’s messy. It’s dreadful. And it’s sacred.

Because in that struggle, we find ourselves.
And in finding ourselves, we create something truly alive.