Letting Go of the Wheel

Letting Go of the Wheel

It’s not writer’s block.

Sometimes I just find myself at a loss for what to explore. Usually, there’s no shortage of topics to dive into—my daily life is full of managing, planning, rearranging, and making sure everything fits “in its place.” These are the things that need to get done: to-do lists, chores, bills, events, projects, certifications, writing, compiling data, researching new topics. The list can be... expansive.

And this is great! It means I’m busy. That I have things happening around me. That I am doing.

But typically, when I’m in the thick of managing all these tasks, something unexpected shows up—something I can’t control: traffic, weather, a government shutdown (lol), the amount of hours in a day. And this might put a wrench in my proverbial spokes.

As I’ve come to learn, when things don’t work out the way I want—either something I don’t want is happening, or something I do want isn’t happening—the result is usually some form of suffering. It’s the all-too-familiar human condition.

And for me, when I’m faced with the reality that the world isn’t bending to my vision, the mirror gets held up. That reflection forces me to look inward. To acknowledge that something needs to shift—and it’s probably me. And that is where my source of writing inspiration, at times, comes from.

That brings me to this moment.

As I reflect on what this week’s blog could be about, I realize: I don’t have much to report in terms of wrestling a square peg into a round hole. Because lately, I’ve been practicing something different. I’ve been allowing life to unfold. Trusting that whatever it looks like, is the way it’s meant to be.

And honestly? It’s felt really good to take my hands off the wheel.

I’ve stepped out of the driver’s seat. I’ve taken my place in the passenger seat of my best friend’s ride (the Universe), rolled down the window, and let the wind blow through my hair.

This shift has brought a whole lot less pain, less striving, and less spiritual nose-to-the-grindstone intensity.

Letting go hasn’t been easy. I like to manage, fix, arrange, organize. I like things to look and feel a certain way—predictable, polished, secure. But I’m realizing that desire for certainty is a bit of an illusion. There will always be forces outside of my control.

The more I trust the process, the more I trust what is, the less I suffer. It’s almost mathematical.

That doesn’t mean I’ve stopped taking action. It just means I’m following the path of least resistance. If a door is open, I walk through it. If it’s shut, I might give it a knock—and if it doesn’t budge? I move along. I don’t try to swim upstream in Category 4 rapids. I don’t panic if I find myself adrift with no land in sight. I just float. I let the current guide me.

I believe what’s meant for me will find me. I trust my intuition. I practice the stillness to hear that inner voice. The ultimate teacher.

And in doing so, I’m starting to ground down into the knowing that my being is enough. That I can stop performing, stop managing, stop micromanaging the external.

So what’s the takeaway?

I’ve become willing to let go of this exhausting quest to make the world look a certain way—and in doing so, I’ve found more peace. Less friction. And that leads me to this idea:

Seek internal peace, not external perfection.

I hope this week, you loosen your grip a little bit. Let yourself breathe. And watch as the petals of your life begin to unfold in their own time.