Forward is a Pace

When “Barely Hanging On” Still Means You’re Hanging On

There’s something quietly radical about refusing to stop.

We live in a world obsessed with speed. How fast can you grow? How quickly can you bounce back? When will you “arrive”? We glorify momentum, worship hustle, and equate worth with output. But there’s a pace that doesn’t get nearly enough credit: forward.

Just forward.

Not sprinting. Not leaping. Not going viral. Just that steady, sometimes barely-perceptible motion that says: I’m still in it.

And honestly? That’s the pace that’s saved me the most.

Forward doesn’t always look impressive from the outside. It might look like answering one email. Getting out of bed. Writing three lines and deleting two. Forward is the walk you take to remember how your body moves. The breath you focus on when the rest feels too heavy. The tiny, almost embarrassingly small steps that only you can measure—because only you know how hard they are to take.

Some days, forward looks like discipline. Other days, like survival. But either way, it counts.

And forward is honest. It’s not performance. It’s not about aesthetics. You don’t need an aesthetic to keep going.

You don’t need to be impressive to be moving.

This is your reminder, in case you’ve been feeling behind or stuck or slow: You’re not. You’re moving. And forward is a pace.

So today, don’t worry about how fast you’re going. Don’t even worry about how far you’ve got left to go.

Just ask yourself: Am I moving forward?

If the answer is yes, you’re doing just fine.

For me, right now is about putting one foot in front of the other and trekking on and tethering myself to the idea that brighter days are right around the corner.