Lost in the Fog, Found in the Flow

When Showing Up Feels Like a Stretch

There are days when showing up feels like a victory.

And then there are days when even the idea of showing up makes you want to pull the covers over your head and whisper, “Not today, Lord.”

Yesterday was one of those in-between days.

I wasn’t emotionally absent or physically sick. I was just mentally… foggy. My body showed up, but my soul lagged behind like it hit the snooze button. Still, I got dressed, drove in, and walked into work with a scattered head and an already-stretched heart. What followed was a whirlwind of decisions, detours, to-dos, and eventually—thankfully—a quiet return to myself.

This is a story about finding your center in the middle of distraction. It’s about how God whispers through the mundane, how creativity can anchor a weary spirit, and how sometimes the best thing you can do is simply… do the next thing.

Part I: Fog at the Front Door

As I stepped into work, I was already behind schedule. I arrived about 15 minutes late—not the end of the world, but just enough to trigger that tiny, internal guilt alarm. My thoughts were jumbled: Should I just call in sick and take a mental health day? Which floor should I work from? Which branch needs me more today?

The boss I had tried to catch in the morning only stayed for about 15 minutes before heading out to an appointment. By then, I had already committed to helping two other departments. I found myself mentally reshuffling priorities, trying to figure out how to serve well, cover what I could, and not lose my mind in the process.

“You can do anything, but not everything.” – David Allen

If only someone had reminded me of that before I said yes to all the things.

Still, I kept going. And that was the first small miracle of the day.

Part II: Grounded at the Photo Lab

It wasn’t until the afternoon that the fog began to lift. I found myself in the photo lab, surrounded by stacks of documents waiting to be uploaded. Not glamorous. Not thrilling. But something about the rhythm of it—the clicking, the sorting, the absence of conversation—began to steady my spirit.

And then it hit me: I had left my phone in the car.

No pings. No notifications. No scrolling temptations. At first, I panicked a little (as any modern soul would). But then I realized—I was free.

“Concentrate all your thoughts upon the work at hand. The sun’s rays do not burn until brought to a focus.” – Alexander Graham Bell

Without my phone, I found focus. Without distraction, I found presence. And that presence helped me remember who I was beneath all the roles I was juggling.

Part III: Creating My Way Back to Center

When I got home, instead of collapsing into the couch or mindlessly scrolling (since I now had my phone back), I felt a strong pull toward my creative work. I opened my laptop, started recording chapter introductions and haiku reflections for my book, and let the words flow.

It wasn’t perfect or polished. But it was honest. And it felt like home.

I even hopped on the vibration plate—because my body, too, needed movement after a stiff day. So there I was: working my legs and working my words at the same time. It was multitasking… Amelie-style.

“Let us not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” – Galatians 6:9 (NIV)

I’m getting closer to finishing this book—just a few chapters and a cover design to go. And somehow, that forward momentum gave the day a sense of redemption. It reminded me that purpose doesn’t always feel thrilling. Sometimes, it’s just doing what you said you’d do, one quiet decision at a time.

Soul Insights

1.) Showing up when you’re scattered is still showing up.

God honors even our foggy efforts. You don’t need to be fully “on” to be faithful.

2.) Silence can be the clearest conversation.

Leaving my phone behind wasn’t a loss—it was a gift. Space created clarity.

3.) Creativity is a sacred reset button.

When life feels blurry, art helps refocus the lens. Writing realigned me with my why.

4.) Discipline is love in motion.

Skipping the cake, choosing to work, recording instead of scrolling—each was a small “yes” to future me.

5.) You don’t need a cape to be consistent.

Some days you’re a superwoman (or superman). Other days you’re just surviving. Either way, you’re still strong.

Final Reflections: The Gift of the Ordinary

“Faithfulness in little things is a big thing.” – St. John Chrysostom

Not every day is a highlight reel. Some are quiet background scenes—documents uploaded, errands run, toast with butter eaten at midnight. But these are the days that form the foundation of who we are becoming.

God isn’t only in the fireworks. He’s in the photo lab.

He’s in the keyboard clicks, the skipped cake, the weary “yes.”

He’s in the tired hands that still choose to create something beautiful.

“And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus.” – Colossians 3:17 (NIV)

So I’ll keep doing it.

One haiku.

One email.

One grounded breath at a time.

(And yes, some toast and butter. That counts too.)

Haiku

Morning feeling lost

Heart pulled in all directions

At desk, peace at last

PS: I’m getting closer to finishing my haiku collection—just a few chapters to go. I can’t wait to share it with you soon. Until then… how do you find focus when the fog rolls in?

Soul Path Insights