When life gets tough, I can persist.

There's a cat somewhere who got fed every morning through the worst year of someone's life. Same bowl, same time, while nothing else in that house held together.

That was the structure. One small thing still running, keeping the days linked to each other until the harder things became possible again.

Persistence gets pictured as gritted teeth and long hours. In the bad seasons it's much smaller than that, and enduring isn't always advancing — it doesn't have to be. The requirement is only that tomorrow finds you still here, with one thing still going. Find your bowl. Keep it.