To the One Who’s Weighing the Risk of Change but Forgetting the Cost of Staying the Same

Dearest friend,

If you read the last letter—the one about hesitation—you already know: change doesn’t happen just because we want it.

It happens because we move.

This letter isn’t about mindset. And it’s not about waiting for clarity, either. It’s about looking—squarely and honestly—at the real cost of staying exactly where we are.

We’re conditioned to focus on what we might lose if we take a deep risk—yet not on what we lose when we don’t.

Here’s the truth most people won’t say out loud:
If nothing changes in how we move, nothing changes in what our life becomes.

Hope is beautiful. Manifestation is powerful. Yet manifestation without new movement—that’s performance. That’s circling. That’s telling life you’re almost ready.

And the universe doesn’t respond to almost. It responds to alignment. It responds to follow-through.

So let’s get honest.

If you’re thinking: “Actually, I want to stay right here. This season, this pace, this version of things feels really good. It feels true.” Then stay. Truly. Stay with what’s working. Keep tending it.

This letter is not for pressure. It’s for presence.

But if your innermost voice says, “No, I don’t want to stay here,” then something has to shift. Not everything. But something. Today.

Because we cannot keep telling the universe we want change while refusing to fully participate in it. We cannot keep hoping without practicing new behavior. We cannot keep manifesting and then refusing to move in new ways. That’s not alignment. That’s emotional limbo.

I write this with a heavy side of compassionate care:
If nothing changes in how you show up, nothing will change in what you experience.

What will you do today that you didn’t do yesterday?

Not for applause. Not for perfection. Just as evidence to yourself that you’re in motion—in new ways.

Because clarity comes after you move.
Genuine confidence is built in the doing.

And change?
It doesn’t wait for permission.
It waits for you.

And if you still think it’s too late…or you need to wait for a better time…I want to tell you something I can’t stop thinking about.

Recently, I sat vigil at the bedside of one of my longest-standing clients—a soul I walked alongside for nearly a decade. They were 84 years old.

I’ve witnessed them make massive change and transition in both their internal and external worlds. We’ve exchanged so many stories in all the years of working together. I had the great privilege to serve not only as their intuitive coach but also as their death doula in their final months of life.

Before they left this earth, they reached for my hand and said: “Tell them. Tell everyone you can…not to wait.
To reach for all they have wanted, for as long as they can remember. And tell them I said to call you too…”

(Admittedly, I would have left that part out, but they asked me to promise that I wouldn’t—so this is in honor of Evelyn.)

They smiled. Softly. Piercingly. And then continued.

“So many of us spend our whole lives seeking ways to be held instead of doing the things that make us come alive. But when we do the things that make us come alive, we crash into the very people who are meant to hold us.”

Evelyn sighed. Took a small sip of water.

And continued again.

“Thank you for walking with me for all these years, Tonyalynne. Working together has made everything else more do-able. Even the cancer. We’re so afraid to be known, to be held—and yet that’s all we’re hungry for too. And that’s what you do. That’s your gift—walking us all the way to the edge of our courage.”

So if you’ve been waiting for a sign—for something to tip you into the life you know is yours—let it be this.

Let it be Evelyn’s voice.
Let it be your ache.
Let your life be your choice.

You don’t have to stay where you are.
But only you can decide what comes next.

We only ever get this one wild chance to meet ourselves fully. Let’s not waste it.

With fierce belief in you,

Practice Postscript

The Reflection:

• What is the real cost—emotionally, mentally, spiritually, physically—of staying exactly where I am?

• Where have I been really hoping for change yet avoiding practicing new behavior?

• What truth have I been circling that now wants my full attention?

The Everyday Practice:

Stand at the edge of your bed, your desk, your front door.
Place both feet firmly on the ground. Whisper to yourself: “We’re not circling anymore. We’re choosing. We’re moving.”

Then ask: What’s one new thing I can do today that I didn’t do yesterday? Make it tangible. Small is fine. But let it be new. Let it be the first brick.

Living in the Question:

• If I’m not willing to move differently, what am I actually telling life I want?