Every moment you call "rest" is actually preparation.
Every breath you take is monitored by an invisible manager who's terrified of what might happen if it stops directing traffic.
You believe you're present, but check— aren't you already rehearsing the next thing? Editing a past conversation? Subtly bracing for some future moment? This isn't presence. This is mental overtime.
Words spoken: “What a beautiful day today!”
Words thought: “I wish I was happy”.
The truth? You're afraid to stop running the show because you think chaos will erupt. But look closer—the chaos you fear is already here. It's the exhausting work of constantly predicting, adjusting, and controlling life instead of living it.
Who would you be without this invisible director?
Not some empty shell—but maybe someone who actually experiences the rain instead of analyzing whether they brought the right jacket.
Here's the secret: The "you" that's so busy managing everything doesn't exist outside this performance. It's like a stagehand who's convinced the play will collapse without them—never noticing the actors have been improvising beautifully all along.
So the real question isn't "how to be." It's:
What happens when you stop pretending you're in charge?
(Don't answer. Just watch how every cell in your body fights to keep the illusion alive.)
Stay wild, stay curious—grab my book and keep exploring:
