Lately, I’ve been moving through a stretch that’s been full of roadblocks. It showed up at work through a project but honestly, the project is just a mirror. What I really noticed was how I responded.
Things weren’t going as planned. What was supposed to be a smooth path forward kept branching off. My roadmap got a little murky. And the moment progress slowed down, the adrenaline kicked in—and I shifted into overdrive.
It’s what I do. I thrive on momentum. That sense of movement, direction, the rush of getting to the finish line on time, that’s my fuel. If I can’t get that feeling in my personal life, I know I can find it in my work.
So when the flow gets interrupted? I don’t slow down. I speed up. I push harder, move faster—as if I’m trying to catch a train that’s already left the station. As if a delay means danger. As if I’m fighting for my life.
It sounds dramatic, I know, but that’s how it feels in my body. An urgency that doesn’t match the reality. My system reads roadblocks as crisis. Every time.
But this time, I caught myself. I saw the pattern kick in, that inner voice saying, hurry up, don’t fall behind. I felt that familiar rush and, for once, I didn’t just go with it. I hit the brakes.
I thought about the project. Those roadblocks weren’t disasters. They were invitations for more improvement. And that made me realize: I had a choice. I could see them as a crisis… or I could see them as opportunities.
This time, I didn’t spiral. I remembered I had a choice: to fight or to soften, to resist or to redirect.
The rush wasn’t real. The crisis wasn’t real. It was just my old wiring kicking in again. And in a split second, I had a moment of clarity. And in that clarity, something shifted. I could accept the fork in the road, refill the gas tank, and still keep my eyes on the finish line.
After all, roadblocks are just starting points for new opportunities—for self-improvement.