Sitting With Not Knowing

A new day dawned in a different place. I woke early, simply because I’d fallen asleep early the night before. By 20:30, I could barely keep my eyes open. No clear reason — just a body that decided it was done for the day.

There’s nothing planned. Eat. Drink. Practice. Enough, but not too much. Days like this still take some getting used to. After a life shaped by doing and achieving, simply being can feel oddly unfamiliar.

I’ve been turning over a thought from yesterday — the idea of living more in line with a Daoist way of seeing. Of sensing what’s coming before it arrives. Not in a dramatic sense, but through the quieter idea that thoughts shape the world we move through. It’s a notion many have held before me, and I can feel why. The idea itself brings a certain calm.

What it actually means, though, is less clear.

For now, I’m content to explore it in practice first. To see what happens when attention shifts, and only later let it seep into other parts of life. Already, it offers a steadier feeling. Still, I’m wary of leaning too far into imagined futures and losing contact with the present moment in the process.

It’s a subtle line to walk.
One worth paying attention to.

Trying to be clever at something I don’t yet understand tends to leave me feeling faintly ridiculous. Like an old man fumbling for a light switch before urgency takes over. Not a flattering image, but an honest one.

There was a time when moments like that would have knocked me down a little — feeding the belief that I should be good at everything. I can see now how unrealistic that was. These days, when that story tries to resurface, I mostly meet it with a quiet laugh. Not because struggling is enjoyable — it isn’t — but because it no longer feels like a verdict.

I’m learning that giving things time matters. Stepping away. Returning from a different angle. Often, the problem loosens on its own.

Stillness remains a challenge. Moments of nothing ask more of me than moments of action ever did. Perhaps part of me still believes I should be doing more, achieving something, shaping outcomes. Or perhaps that’s just another story passing through.

I don’t seek many opinions. I never really have. But I do find myself wondering. That tendency hasn’t left me. And I don’t mind it. Wondering seems to open doors rather than close them.

I don’t expect answers to most of these questions. I’m not sure I’d want them if they arrived. The not knowing feels as important as any clarity I’ve found.

Just another quiet contrast to sit with.