The Answers You Avoid Are Often the Ones You Need Most
If you keep chasing external answers, asking others what they would do, searching for signs, consuming every insight, opinion, or framework you can find, you may feel like you're gaining clarity, moving forward, staying informed, but there's an voidance tucked beneath the momentum, a quiet resistance to slowing down enough to ask yourself the harder question: What do I already know but don’t want to face?
It's easier to scroll for wisdom than
to sit with discomfort; easier to consult someone else than to confront the
truths that live just beneath the surface of your own knowing.
We live in a world that rewards the
search: the books, the experts, the rituals of becoming, a world that keeps us
in motion, always becoming but rarely arriving, always learning but sometimes
avoiding the most personal curriculum of all, the one written in our patterns,
our wounds, our silences, and the moments we instinctively turn away from
ourselves.
And there’s nothing wrong with seeking
guidance. There’s value in perspectives, wisdom in mentors, beauty in shared
language, but when the seeking becomes a shield, when the effort to find “out
there” replaces the courage to look “in here,” something essential gets lost:
your voice, your clarity, your compass.
Sometimes the answer isn’t out in the
next resource or reflected in someone else’s life, it’s right here in the part
of you that already knows but hasn’t yet given yourself permission to believe;
in the part that keeps nudging you in quiet moments, only to be drowned out by
noise, strategy, or the comfort of another opinion.
Eventually, the questions you keep
outsourcing will return to you because your life is trying to turn your
attention inward toward the thing you didn’t want to admit, the boundary you
knew you needed to draw, the truth you were afraid to name, the chapter you
were avoiding closing.
So if it feels like you’re circling
the same dilemma, revisiting the same confusion, unable to break through, pause
not to seek harder, but to listen more honestly. The answer might not be
hidden, it might simply be inconvenient, confronting, or wrapped in grief, and
the moment you stop running from it is the moment everything else begins to
shift.
Comments
Post a Comment