Alignment in a Scattered World

I don’t rush, I move with alignment. That sentence came through me like thunder. A boundary. A rhythm. A reminder. Lately, I’ve been surrounded by people who are moving too fast to feel the ground beneath them. Too loud to notice what’s happening around them. Too scattered to even consider they’re not alone in it.

This isn’t just one moment, it’s a pattern.

In assignment after assignment, I keep finding myself in situations where people aren't reading the room. They're skipping over the present moment like it's a checkbox, too distracted to recognize safety cues, boundaries, or basic awareness. And again and again, someone looks to me, not because I said anything, but because I’m centered when others are not.

Recently, a team member in a gig I had, wouldn’t respond to a direct safety instruction. The person in charge turned to me and said: “Can you get them to follow you?”

And I did. Not because I wanted to lead, but because I could feel the whole room needed someone to anchor it.

Another day, same energy, different setting:

I’m on a lunch break, and someone’s talking over everything, including my story, the server, even the menu. I finally had to say:

“Walk behind me.”

In the parking lot. In the conversation. In the moment. Because sometimes the clearest act of leadership is just moving forward with presence and letting people fall in line or fall away.

So who is this post for?

Not for the scattered ones, they won’t stop long enough to hear it. I’m writing this for me. For anyone who walks into chaotic spaces and somehow becomes the steady point of reference, even when you’re tired, even when no one thanks you, even when they don’t listen until it’s too late.

I’m writing this for those of us who notice everything and say little, not because we’re passive, but because we’re precise.

For those of us who don’t rush. Who move with alignment. Who feel the pressure building before the storm hits.

And I’ll be honest, recently I misread someone, too. I thought she was upset with me when really, she was mid-active listening, engaging with her team, on a headset. I was trying to clarify something, clocked her teammate as the “on the headset” handling things, so I pushed more, and I got it wrong.

Was that me being scattered? Maybe. Or maybe that was me being too tuned in, too trained to scan for cues, too quick to self-correct.

I’m still learning that:

Moving with alignment doesn’t mean perfection; it means I stop when I realize I’ve moved too fast. And then I realign.

If that’s you, I see you. You’re not bossy. You’re not controlling. You’re the one quietly holding the frequency. The one who doesn’t need a title to take the lead.

Let them call it intense. Let them call it too much. But when it all starts spinning, they’ll remember:

“Follow her.”

For Journalers

Have you been the grounded one in a room full of noise? Leave a comment, journal, or share this with someone who holds the signal.

More from FormaFit Active

Coach Vida

Coach Vida is the voice behind FormaFit Active a movement journal rooted in mindful motion, real gear, cultural pride, and showing up without apology.
She believes in slow mornings, walking when it hurts, and building strength that feels like freedom.

Her motto: You don’t have to look like an athlete to move like one.

She writes from Los Angeles, with a speaker clipped on and sunscreen always in the bag. This journal is for anyone reclaiming energy, stretch by stretch.

Coach Vida es la voz detrás de FormaFit Active, un diario de movimiento con raíces en el cuerpo, la cultura y la intención.
Cree en moverse con calma, en estirarse cuando duele, y en la fuerza como libertad.

Su lema: No tienes que parecer atleta para moverte como uno.

Escribe desde Los Ángeles, con su bocina a un lado y bloqueador en la mochila.
Este espacio es para quienes se están reclamando, paso a paso.

Next
Next

The Week I Grew Wings