I am sitting in the sun, letting the warmth settle into me while a slight breeze moves across my skin, carrying the faint clean scent of mint from the plant to my right. The soft, steady hum of traffic drifts past in the background. Today I needed this more than I can easily explain.
This morning my doctor cancelled her appointment, then changed her mind and said she could make it after all. I had already mentally released the day and reorganised around Thursday, so when the reversal came I found myself more unsettled than the situation probably warranted. Unexpected changes like that disrupt something deeper than just the schedule. My nervous system had already mapped the day a certain way, and a sudden shift, even a minor one, requires a kind of internal recalibration that is genuinely exhausting. I chose Thursday anyway, on my own terms, which helped. The unsettled feeling still took time to pass, which is why I am out here now.
It has me thinking about something I have been sitting with lately. Reality does not care about our plans, our carefully built illusions, or the stories we tell ourselves to feel safe. There is a particular kind of shock that comes when life closes the gap between what we expected and what actually is, and it does so entirely on its own timeline, not ours.
I am not convinced the answer is stripping away every layer of protection and standing completely exposed. I think the real work is building enough internal ground to tolerate what is real without being destroyed by it. That process is slower and more painful than avoidance, but there is clarity on the other side that no illusion ever provided. At least, that has been true in my own experience.
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