A couple of weeks ago, in my Monday afternoon Sweat + Sculpt class, I found myself huffing and puffing through a plank. The whole position felt uncomfortable, I couldn't hold still, and I was impatiently waiting for Jasmine's cue (the instructor) to drop down and feel the sweet relief of the mat.

Suddenly, the words "Sticky to Easy" came to mind.

I thought to myself: how can I make this plank feel easy?

I switched my focus from how heavy I felt that day, from my thoughts jumping from one idea to the next, and I remembered: I get to choose. 

I connected back to the one thing that always anchors me into the present: my breath. A deep inhale through the nose, audible out through the mouth, then again, and once more, until the air moving through me was the only thing I was tracking. As my attention narrowed, my muscles came to attention and tightened. The minimal swaying of my body was replaced by full stability. I barely noticed when Jasmine moved us on to the next exercise.

That question, how can I make this feel easy, was not available to me two years ago.

The first six months of solopreneurship, I had no one's deadlines to meet except my own, which made them the most relentless of all. Every morning I told myself I wasn't doing enough, that every single day had to be productive because slowing down meant falling behind. Without a packed calendar driving me, the pressure had nowhere to go except inward.

The shift began when I heard the voice and recognized it wasn't telling me the truth.

The tools I know now, the breathwork, the narrowed task list, and the deliberate end to a workday, came later. At the time, I just had the beginning of a question: what would it look like to choose differently?

The week of Sweat + Sculpt, I was waking up with a poor attitude.

Every morning, I faced the same resistance and complaining I used to give my mom as a kid when she wanted to take me to the museum. Even though new relationships were blooming, work collaborations were coming together, and the skills I was building were paying off, I couldn't focus long enough on all the good things happening for me lately.

That morning, as soon as I opened my eyes and it felt hard to get up, I turned to my phone and pressed play on my 10-minute HypnoBreathwork playlist. Lulled by the soundtracks of Chasing Corals and Wall-E, my thoughts quieted. I threw my comforter off, planted my feet firmly, and made my bed.

For my business, I simplified my day by narrowing it down to the three main tasks I need to complete. After deep work and a late lunch, I laid on the couch with my legs up against the wall, breathing consciously to the rhythm of Jeremy's guidance on my Oura app, staring at the white ceiling. To close the day, I walked around the neighborhood, stopped by my neighbor's dog, and called someone I care about.

I have a client who puts studs on leather jackets and accessories by hand, turning them into custom pieces for friends and people he cares about. Right now, a consulting project with a large team and a promotion on the line get his mornings, his days, and his evenings. When he mentions the jackets, his voice drops.

They are there. He just hasn't gotten to them.

The jackets are not a hobby he forgot about. They are the thing that is so natural to him, so connected to who he is, that the hours disappear when he works on them. The creativity flows without effort. When he makes a piece, he is not producing, he is playing, and that playing feeds the parts of him the consulting work cannot reach.

I know that when I reach for what works, everything shifts because I stop adding weight to it by waiting.

PS — I still don't know why it takes three mornings. I've stopped waiting to figure that out before I reach for what works. You can do the same.

See you Saturday.

Victoria Grandury
CEO & Founder, Limitless Rebel
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