Eid.

I skipped last week. Sometimes the pause is part of the practice.

Beautifully curated Eid gifts from Trelani <3

For the past month, I’ve been waking before dawn to the quiet of the house, before the day begins asking anything of me. I kiss my hands, coax myself out of bed, stretch a little—maybe yoga. I go downstairs and make breakfast.

Then I set the table, light a candle, turn off the lights, and pray before I eat.

When Trelani asked me to participate, we talked through our whys. I came into this Ramadan with a single intention: more clarity. I’ve had a quiet but persistent feeling that I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, and how I want to impact the world.

So I asked for guidance.

One morning, bowing in candlelight, I started to pray. I said, Dear Heavenly Father, and immediately it felt wrong. The words created distance.

I stopped.

I said, God, I feel separated from you when I speak that way. Heaven is inside of me, not somewhere far away. So I’m going to talk to you as if you are right here—as me, like I am simply the body you are moving through.

And then I let myself be honest.

For a long time, my career has been tightly wound around my sense of value. If work was going well, I was well. If it wasn’t, I felt untethered.

I don’t want that for myself anymore.

I want an aerial view on a clear day.

I want clarity.

I didn’t get an answer that morning.

But I felt better. Lighter.

And because I felt better, I started to notice things. Small glimmers.

I am good at ideation. I help people find their blind spots. I am exceptional at messaging.

When I shared this with Trelani, she sent me a video on ikigai: the Japanese concept of purpose.

I was familiar with the concept from my time living in Japan. I’ve even tried to find mine over the years, with no real success.

But something about this time felt different. The video unlocked a level of understanding I hadn’t reached before.

That’s when I began to understand the difference between my job and my work.

My job had become my identity, my measure of worth.

My work is something else entirely.

My work is the relentless, holy pursuit of the things that animate me.

For years, I’ve read self-help books, listened to podcasts, and searched for the formula that would unblock clarity and, therefore, purpose.

But the truth is much simpler than that.

Clarity isn't coming the way I thought it would. It's coming from permission to trust myself, follow what calls me, and believe that even if things don't work, I will still be okay.

I had been walking those steps all along.

What was missing was permission.

Permission to explore without needing to define it.

To enjoy something without tying it to money.

To be curious without needing it to make sense.

To notice. To follow. To trust.

To believe that what is mine will find me when the time is right.

For the first time in a long time, that feels like enough.

See you next week. 🥂