Burning Beneath

There are days when you set out to do it all, only to end up getting halfway through your list—held back not by time or motivation, but by the aches that whisper from every corner of your body. It’s funny how age works. It sneaks up on you. Your soul still feels young, vibrant, full of life—capable of anything, dreaming the impossible. But then reality sets in. Your body, this physical shell, starts to disagree.

Since I started working on my camper van project, I’ve learned to pace myself. When I say “working on it,” I don’t mean every day—maybe once a week, if the weather allows. Not because I lack the will, but because my body no longer keeps up with the fire in my mind and soul.

That van project is more than a hobby—it’s therapy. It pulls me out of bed, out of depression, away from anxiety. It gives me purpose, motion, peace. I throw on my AirPods, play soft music, and get lost in the moment. Time fades. The world disappears. I work until I can’t move, until my back burns and my fingers ache. That’s when I know—I’ve given it all I’ve got.

What comes next is a different kind of challenge: just making it to the shower, then collapsing into bed. The next day? My body works its quiet magic, healing what it can while I sleep. It truly is an incredible machine, this body of mine—carrying me through decades, surviving more than I give it credit for.

So today, I’m taking a moment to say thank you—to my arms, my legs, my neck, my eyes, my heart. To every sore muscle and every tired joint. And to my soul, which refuses to age—thank you for keeping me young where it matters most: in spirit.