Chapter 2: Trusting the Process

Hello, Done.

The first thing I noticed this morning was the snow. Late March in Portland, Oregon, isn’t known for snowfall, but there it was—soft, delicate, and entirely unexpected. As I sat at my office window, the world outside transformed before my eyes.

The snowflakes didn’t simply fall; they danced. Each one swirled and twirled in its own rhythm, as if the air itself had choreographed their descent. The streets and rooftops, so familiar and ordinary the day before, were now wrapped in pristine white, a quiet masterpiece painted overnight. For a moment, I forgot about everything else—the deadlines, the noise, the weight I had been carrying.