Most days, I’m trying to complete 13 projects (in need of a full-time project manager’s magical touch) in two hours. The turtle pendant on my bracelet reminds me to slow down. My eye sockets remind me to get more sleep tonight. My watch reminds me to stand. My second born reminds me that I’m always tired. My phone reminds me to move with the brain God gave me, the same God who reminds me to settle into an early morning conversation via any pen and my brown leather journal, a gift from my mother. Writing reminds me that I’m okay.
