Surrendering

To The Not Knowing

Kuutamo

It’s 3 AM again. My mind is spinning through another exhaustive analysis of my feelings. I’m not sure what the dominant emotion is in this moment, but I’m swirling between happy, sad, confused and more. It’s daunting to feel so much so that you could feel all of these emotions at once. Needless to say this is not my first sleepless night twirling through a bevy of feelings.

I've spent countless nights like this, convinced that if I just think hard enough, long enough, the perfect clarity will dawn on me.

But tonight feels different. As I trace back through all the what-ifs and should-haves, a strange thought arises: What if understanding isn't the point? What if all this mental turmoil is just my way of trying to control something that was never meant to be controlled in the first place?

This realization is hitting different than the countless other late-night epiphanies I've had before. Instead of more self-analyzation, the walls of reasoning I’ve built over years of contemplation seem to be falling away. Looking back now, I see how this incessant need to understand everything, make sense of it all has actually kept me stuck - each analysis adding another layer of complexity rather than the clarity I’ve been seeking.

Memories are seeming to shift under this new light. All the times I've tortured myself trying to decode every interaction, give precise meanings to each gesture or word - maybe they’re not puzzles that need to be solved. I’m coming to the conclusion that perhaps my feelings, all the contradictions and messiness are experiences I need to live through rather than some coherent set of directions that get me to a specific destination like in my maps app.

In the present, I notice how different it feels to let an emotion come without immediately trying to name it, categorize it, or fix it. I’m finding more and more that sometimes sadness is just sadness. Sometimes a glimpse of joy shows up without explanation. And confusion isn't a problem to be solved and maybe there’s no solution at all to it, but a natural response to life's inherent mysteries.

Now, in the little moments of my days, I’m starting to notice how different it feels to move through life without this constant pressure to understand everything. When anxiety bubbles up for me I don't have to immediately tailspin into an internal investigation of its root cause. When tears start gushing down my face in an instant when I think about the sad parts of life, I don't need to justify why I’m reaching for the Kleenex. When happiness shows up without warning, I don't question if I deserve it or if it’s ok to feel momentary warmth and fuzziness.

It's not that I’m not thinking deeply about my feelings anymore - I do, all the time and probably a little too much. But there's a softness to it now, a spaciousness that wasn't there before. Like watching clouds pass by instead of trying to hold them in place. Some days are still hard. Some emotions still feel impossible to process and untangle. But I’m taking comfort in knowing they don't have to make perfect sense.

Maybe this is what emotional maturity really looks like: not getting to perfect understanding, but making peace with the not-knowing. In surrendering my need to control what I cannot, I’m finding something better than clarity - I’m finding freedom.