The Clarity Threat

What if the fog isn't protecting you from burnout, but from having to show up for what you actually want?

The phone face-down is the decision.

What if your fog is not a symptom of bad eating but rather a strategy?

And by “bad eating,” I don’t necessarily mean choosing the wrong kinds of food, but scarfing down even cold “healthy” foods—like salads or açai bowls—standing up or in front of a screen.

• What if rushing through lunch lets you say, “I don’t have time” instead of “I’m terrified of what I’d do with the time if I had it”?

• What if the grind isn’t blocking your dreams, but protecting you from having to pursue them?

Here’s my confession:

I can’t tell you how many times I kept going back to the freezer for “just one tablespoon” of mint chocolate chip ice cream after lunch. Then half the pint was gone, then I needed coffee to balance the sweet... which tanked my afternoon.

Sometimes it wasn’t ice cream. It was “healthy” stuff—leftover lunch, veggies to nosh on—in the name of “balancing blood sugar.”

The truth? My energy was fine. I was creating the fog.

When my lunch settled and my mind cleared, I’d start to see what I actually needed to do. The real work. The scary work. The work that mattered.

So I’d walk to the fridge and blur the signal.

Ice cream → coffee → crash → fog.

Now I had an excuse. “I can’t work on that project today, I’m too tired.”

If I never had clarity, I never had to start.
If I never started, I never risked failing.
And if I never risked failing, my dreams could stay perfect in my head—untested, unchallenged, full of potential.

The grind protected me from having to find out if I was actually capable of the work I said I wanted to do.

You’re not alone

Every woman I’ve coached who “can’t find 15 minutes for lunch” has the same pattern underneath:

The impossible schedule isn’t the obstacle. It’s the construction. Built unconsciously, deliberately to prevent the very clarity she says she wants.

The cold food inhaled standing up, the “I’m too busy,” the fog.

These aren’t obstacles to clarity. They’re protection from it.

Because clarity means facing what you’ve been avoiding: the project you’re not starting, the relationship that isn’t working, the life you’re not living.

Fog is a hiding place.

When you sit down, digest, and actually feel your own energy, you lose your excuse.

The loyalty test

Here’s what I’ve learned: lunch is a daily test of who you’re loyal to.

The women I work with are fiercely loyal. They can tell you exactly what their kid ate for breakfast. They protect everyone else’s time, everyone else’s needs, everyone else’s emergencies.

Ask them what they ate? Blank stare.

They ask me, “When’s it my turn?”

And I tell them something harder: It’s been your turn. Three times a day. You keep giving it away.

If you had to date someone who showed up for you the way you show up for yourself—sometimes present, often distracted, frequently canceling—would that person get another date?

Lunch isn’t about food. It’s about whether you’re willing to stop betraying yourself for one meal.

What sitting down actually requires

To eat a warm, on-time lunch, you have to tell people no. You have to protect something. You have to communicate that you’re unavailable in the middle of the day.

That’s not time management. That’s identity work.

And when you do it, something shifts. Not just your digestion, your capacity.

• To see which projects actually matter.

• To say no to the wrong things.

• To finish strong at 6pm instead of grinding until 9pm on work that won’t compound.

You don’t become less busy. You become more selective.

And selective beats busy every single time.

The choice

You can keep creating the fog.

The ice cream. The coffee. The “I don’t have time.”
The grind that feels like home because exhaustion has become your proof of effort.

Your dreams stay protected there. Untested. Someday.

Or you can sit down at noon. Warm food. No screen. Fifteen minutes of keeping a promise to yourself when no one’s watching and no one will know if you break it.

The fog will lift. And you’ll have to see what’s been waiting underneath:

The work you’ve been avoiding.

The capacity you’ve had all along.

The question you’ve been drowning out: What if I actually did it?

It’s scary to be clear, because when you’re clear, you have to meet yourself.

That’s the clarity threat.

When you’re ready

Paid members get the Day in the Life Assessment to see exactly where you’re creating fog, plus the AI Coach prompt for personalized next steps.

Not ready for full membership? Start with The 3-Day Lunch Test ($47)— proof of concept for your own life. Three days. Three warm lunches. Track your 3pm and 9pm. See what shifts when you stop hiding in the fog. Paid members can find it here.

Wednesday for paid members: The 40/90/120 Commitment Tracker—how to build this through return rate, not perfection. Because the skill isn’t “never miss lunch.” It’s how fast you come back to yourself after you abandon yourself.

—Savitree
I teach women to restore the cognitive capacity their work depends on.