The Gap

Where I Am and Where I Want to Be

There is a point of frustration in my daily life — the space between where I am and where I want to be. It exists both in the small moments of my days and in the larger picture of my life. I suppose that friction is there for a reason — to keep me motivated, engaged, interested in what I am doing.

In my daily life, the gap shows up when all I need to do is complete one simple task, but I am being pulled in a million different directions. What should take a short amount of time stretches across the entire day. By nightfall, I can feel the quiet frustration of knowing I worked all day and still didn’t quite arrive where I intended.

Clarity, Gratitude, and Tension

For the first time in my life, where I want to be is crystal clear. My family life is exactly what I pictured many years ago, and I am deeply thankful for that. I have always wondered what my creative impact might be in the world — and now I know. I even have a sense of how I want to get there. And yet, in this season of life, I am far too busy in my home life to move toward it the way I would like.

When I was in my twenties and thirties, I had time — but no clarity. I didn’t know what I wanted, so I didn’t even need to bother with how to get there. Now, in my forties, I have clarity — but no time. I suppose that is one of life’s great dichotomies.

The lesson, I think, lives here.
In the friction.
In the gap.
The space between where I am and where I know I could be.

Searching for Relief

When I hit that friction — that stop-and-go feeling, that place where I just can’t seem to get my tasks accomplished — I notice something about myself. I start searching for relief.

I scroll through my phone.

Sometimes I catch myself and ask: What am I actually looking for in this scroll?
And the answer is always the same. There are no answers here. There is no quick fix for the situation I am in.

Because the situation is life.
And the gap is life.

When the Tool Isn’t the Answer

Technology is a tool — not the answer. But I think it goes deeper than simply “using it less.”

What I am really looking for isn’t distraction — it’s relief. A softening. A sense of steadiness when everything feels compressed.

Scrolling through social media or the news isn’t the right tool for that. In fact, it often does the opposite — increasing comparison, anxiety, and quiet dissatisfaction.

So when I feel that pull — that sense of needing something — I am learning to pause and ask myself better questions:

Why am I feeling this way?
What am I really looking for right now?
Is this the right tool for this moment?

Most of the time, the answer isn’t more stimulation.

It’s space.
Fresh air.
A deep breath.
A quiet moment.

The Bigger Picture of Balance

And maybe this is the part I forget when I’m stuck in the gap.

Life is not meant to be a continuous stream of work. It can’t be. You have to pause. You have to move your body. You have to eat. You have to step away. You have to take care of your family.

In many ways, that is the entire point of the ambition in the first place.

The work, the vision, the wanting more — it all exists so I can show up for the people I love and build a life that feels whole, not just productive.

So the gap isn’t only about managing time or completing tasks. It’s a balancing act — between mothering and personal ambition, between forward movement and presence.

The Practices That Hold Me

There is an emotional balance to this, too.

Some days I feel like I am talking to myself all day long — gently guiding myself back from the edge, catching my thoughts before they spiral, pausing myself before an outburst forms. Regulating. Re-centering. Choosing again and again how I want to respond.

And it’s in this space that my practices matter.

Each day, I return to them — not to escape the gap, but to live inside it with more steadiness.

When I run, I find ideas.
When I pause, I find patience.
When I reflect and write, I find clarity.

Through these practices, I have access to a kind of wisdom I wouldn’t have if I weren’t paying attention — if I weren’t present inside my own life.

That doesn’t mean it’s easy.

There is an intensity to this season. The things I am paying attention to are heavy. They take emotional energy to work through. Awareness doesn’t always bring comfort — sometimes it brings truth.

But this, too, lives in the gap.

Learning to Stay

Maybe the gap isn’t something to close.

Maybe it’s something to tend — with movement, stillness, reflection, and care.

Maybe relief isn’t found in escaping life’s intensity, but in meeting it with practices that help me stay present, regulated, and connected.

And maybe that is the real work of this season.