Sometimes I catch myself obsessing over the destination of a desire. I get so lost in pushing towards the destination that the journey turns into a blockage. Frustration builds and what is meant to be a beautiful experience crumbles.
The question that caught me off guard was «what happens when I get there?» and I realized that I have no fucking clue. If I were to get there, a new journey will be at hand. Life is all about the journeys, the process, not the temporary destinations. So why am I stressing my heart and head out about getting there? Let me tell you, there’s really no joy in that. It’s self-destructive. Or at least, that’s the realization that I’ve come about. It’s a cliche, but to stop and smell the flowers makes a whole lot of more sense.
Overanalyzing, calculating and overthinking combined with the urge to move quickly can be disastrous. We’re not meant to know everything and by trying to control the outcome we miss out on all the beautiful things that could unfold. It’s hard to let go of control and to leap into the unknown when your heart is on the line. When your desire is overwhelming and you let yourself be vulnerable. But what is the option? Throwing it away and start over again in a vicious cycle?
It’s time to slow the fuck down.