Something feels off, but I can’t quite identify why. I may wake up each day longing for more than the previous one and go to bed, hoping that tomorrow will bring something better. Even when circumstances seem fine, there’s this lingering sense that they could be improved.

I chase after solutions, yet when I achieve my desires, the satisfaction escapes me like water slipping through my fingers. I’ve attempted to ignore this feeling, trying to drown it out with noise, but it always resurfaces. The tighter I hold on, the more everything seems to wiggle away.

When I feel discomfort, I wonder: Is it the feeling that bothers me or my constant urge to escape it? Can I stop trying to avoid it? What if I shifted from trying to fix things to just observing them? To see the need, recognize my avoidance, and understand the stories I tell myself about change?

I see a gap between reality and my beliefs. When I expect things to stay the same, change is evident. Yet, when I try to push away what I dislike, it returns, creating a cycle of presence and absence.

Separate or combine? I ask you one last time…

However, if I stop struggling—if only for a moment—I discover a quiet place—not a loud calm but a stillness hidden beneath all conflicts.

I could try this: loosen my grip on what I want and don’t want, accept my ongoing desires and habits of fixing and withdrawing quickly, find peace in the chaos, and let go of the need for change. What does it mean to simply exist in all of this without wishing for anything to be different?

I think everyone knows this change between wanting and avoiding. Everyone has felt that nagging sense that something’s missing, and everyone can find that serene space where nothing needs to be fixed. We’re all in this together, taking small steps toward seeing things as they are.

You are always welcome.