I Trust Silence to Show Me the Way

Have You Ever Felt Like You’re Running?

Some days, I catch myself moving fast—frantic, restless—yet when I look back, no one is chasing me. So why am I running? Where am I going?

I work for myself. I have the freedom to structure my time, to set my own pace. Yet my mind loops the same thoughts—whispering that I’m not doing enough, that I’m falling short of expectations (mostly mine), that nothing is changing as fast as I want. The cycle repeats. And I keep moving, chasing… what exactly?

If I’m always five steps ahead in a story I’ve already told, what am I actually accomplishing?

Nothing. Just sinking deeper into confusion, my vision blurred by the noise of my own thoughts.

I teach metacognition—awareness of thought—yet do I always live it? Am I truly observing my mind, or am I getting caught in its currents? If it’s just noise, why do I let it pull me under?

Because when I let the noise take over, it feels like I’m speeding down a highway with no destination, time slipping through my fingers, exhaustion replacing purpose. I have handed my power to the chaos.

But my clarity, my peace, my strength—they’ve been waiting behind the fog all along. I don’t need to chase them. I don’t need to run.

I just need to stop. To expect nothing.

To sit. To listen. To see. To trust the stillness.

In silence, there is knowing. There is clarity. From there, action flows—not from fear, but from ease and confidence. Everything that truly matters unfolds in its own time.

I am that poppy in an endless field, standing tall in the wind—boundless, timeless. Rooted in trust. Free in presence.

I trust silence to show me the way.