Persistence as Practice: How Faith, Breathwork, and Small Wins Carry You Through the SALT Cycle's Toughest Moments

Can I tell you something that might sound completely contradictory?

My body is exhausted right now. Like, the kind of tired where even making coffee feels like a marathon. But here's the weird part, my heart feels light. Almost giddy, actually. And if you're someone who's building something meaningful (whether that's a business, a new version of yourself, or both), you probably know exactly what I'm talking about.

This is what I call living in the space between. It's that peculiar place where your inner knowing is screaming "YES, this is it!" while your external world looks like it's held together with prayer and caffeine. It's the place where persistence stops being this thing you should do and starts becoming something you practice: like breathwork, like faith, like learning to trust the process even when the process feels like it's testing every ounce of your sanity.

The Myth of Perfect Balance (And Why It's Keeping You Stuck)

Let's get something straight: perfect balance is a myth. A beautiful, Pinterest-worthy myth that has us all thinking we should wake up at 5 AM, meditate for an hour, hit the gym, eat kale, run our empires, and still have energy for evening gratitude journaling.

Please.

I've been watching women in my community (myself included) twist themselves into pretzels trying to achieve this impossible standard. And you know what happens? We burn out. We quit. We tell ourselves we're "not disciplined enough" or "not cut out for this entrepreneurial thing."

But what if the problem isn't our lack of discipline? What if it's our relationship with the words "should" and "have to"?

Those two phrases are perfectionism in disguise. They're the voice that says you have to work out every single day or you're failing. You should be seeing results by now. You have to have it all figured out.

Here's what I've learned: some days, caring for yourself means choosing the salad over the workout. Some days, it means doing ambient breathwork while you're folding laundry instead of forcing yourself through a formal practice. Some days, it means picking three: just three: things to prioritize and letting everything else be okay with being okay.

This isn't giving up. This is getting real about what sustainability actually looks like.

The SALT Cycle and the Space Between

If you've been following my work, you know I talk about the SALT cycle: that inevitable rhythm of expansion and contraction that every spiritual entrepreneur experiences. But what I don't talk about enough is the space between. The liminal. The place where you're no longer who you were, but you're not yet who you're becoming.

This space is sacred. And it's also where most people give up.

Why? Because our culture has trained us to look for external validation. We want to see the numbers. The followers. The bank account. The perfect testimonials. But here's the thing about the space between: it's an inside job. It's where your faith gets to prove itself, not through what you can see, but through what you can feel.

Remember the story of the blind man in the Bible? He kept asking for his sight back, and when Jesus healed him, he said it was because "your faith has made you well." The man couldn't see the outcome, but he believed so fiercely in what was possible that he persisted through the discomfort, the uncertainty, the people probably telling him to be realistic.

That's where I am right now. That's where you might be too.

When Your Body Says No But Your Heart Says Yes

There's something nobody prepared me for about building a business that matters: the way your body holds the tension of transformation.

I'm talking about waking up tired even after sleeping well. The headaches that come from nowhere. The way your nervous system seems to be processing not just your own growth, but the collective healing you're facilitating through your work. (If you're someone who feels called to serve others, you know exactly what I mean.)

But here's what I've noticed: when my body is tired but my heart is light, that's actually information. It's telling me I'm in integrity. I'm on the right track. My system is working overtime to integrate the new version of me that's emerging, and that takes energy.

This is when breathwork becomes less about the perfect 20-minute morning practice and more about weaving regulation into the fabric of your day. It's breathing consciously while you're in line at the coffee shop. It's a few deep inhales before you hit send on that vulnerable email. It's remembering that your breath is always available, always accessible, always working on your behalf.

Persistence as Practice (Not Perfection)

So how do we stay persistent when everything feels hard? When the external world seems to be moving at the speed of molasses while your inner world is practically vibrating with possibility?

First, we redefine persistence. It's not about grinding harder. It's not about pushing through at all costs. It's about showing up consistently, even when that showing up looks different each day.

Some days, persistence looks like:

Writing one sentence when you planned to write a whole blog post
Doing five minutes of breathwork instead of your usual twenty
Celebrating that one new email subscriber instead of focusing on the thousands you don't have yet
Choosing rest as an act of rebellion against hustle culture

Second, we get obsessed with small wins. I mean obsessed. Every tiny sign that you're moving in the right direction gets celebrated like you just won the lottery. Because here's the truth: small wins are how faith builds momentum. They're the breadcrumbs that keep you on the path when you can't see the destination.

Third, we stop looking for external change as our compass. This is the big one. The minute we start measuring our worth by outside metrics, we lose our way. All change comes from within first. Always. Your job is to tend to your inner landscape with the same devotion you'd tend to a garden, trusting that the fruits will come in their right timing.

The Practice of Faithful Action

What does it actually look like to practice persistence during the SALT cycle's toughest moments?

It looks like getting up each morning and asking: "What are my three priorities today?" Not ten. Not twenty. Three. And then giving yourself permission to let everything else be beautifully imperfect.

It looks like replacing "I have to" with "I get to" and watching how that simple shift changes your entire energetic signature around your work.

It looks like doing your WOO Breathwork not because you should, but because you've learned that a regulated nervous system is the foundation of everything you're trying to build.

It looks like treating doubt as information, not truth. When that voice whispers, "Maybe this isn't working," you breathe and ask, "What's this doubt trying to protect me from?" Usually, it's trying to protect you from disappointment. But what if disappointment isn't the enemy? What if it's just another teacher?

The Light Heart Revolution

Here's what I'm learning: when your heart is light even while your body is tired, you're living in your purpose. You're aligned with something bigger than your individual will. You're part of what I like to call the light heart revolution: a movement of people who've decided that joy, not suffering, is the path to meaningful change.

This doesn't mean we're bypassing the hard stuff. It means we're choosing to move through it with grace instead of grinding through it with force.

Your light heart is proof that you're on the right track, even when the track feels like it's made of quicksand. It's proof that your faith is stronger than your circumstances. It's proof that you understand something that most people don't: persistence isn't about enduring: it's about trusting.

Your Space Between

So if you're reading this from your own space between: tired in your bones but electric in your heart: know that you're exactly where you need to be. This is where the magic happens. This is where faith becomes more than just a pretty word on a motivational poster. This is where you learn that persistence isn't something you do, it's something you become.

Keep choosing your three things. Keep breathing. Keep celebrating those small wins. Keep trusting the process even when the process feels like it's taking forever.

Because here's what I know for sure: the very fact that your heart stays light while everything else feels heavy is proof that you're being held by something bigger than your circumstances. And that, my friend, is worth persisting for.

The space between is sacred. Honor it. Trust it. And keep going.