Not Everything Needs an Explanation

For a long time, every uncomfortable moment in my life came with a follow-up question.

Not from anyone else.
From me.

What is this trying to teach me?
Why is this happening?
What am I supposed to learn from this?

I treated life like it was constantly assigning homework.

A plan fell apart?
Better extract meaning.

Someone disappointed me?
Time to analyze the lesson.

A day just felt off for no obvious reason?
Clearly something needed interpretation.

Even my own emotions weren’t allowed to exist without a reason.
They had to justify themselves.
Explain their purpose.
Earn their place.

And that constant meaning-making?
It was exhausting.

Because sometimes, nothing is wrong.
Nothing is being revealed.
Nothing is unfolding spiritually or emotionally.

Sometimes life is just mildly frustrating.
Or disappointing.
Or inconvenient.
Or sad in a small, ordinary way.

And asking it to be more than that only made it heavier.

I didn’t realize how much pressure I was under until I stopped doing it.

Stopped asking what this moment meant.
Stopped turning feelings into messages.
Stopped assuming every uncomfortable experience needed to advance the plot.

I let a bad day be a bad day.
I let disappointment be disappointment.
I let irritation pass without mining it for insight.

No lesson extracted.
No conclusion drawn.
No wisdom forced at the end.

And strangely, that was a relief.

Because when I stopped needing everything to make sense, my nervous system finally got a break.

I didn’t become passive.
I didn’t stop caring.
I didn’t give up on growth.

I just stopped interrogating my life like it was on the witness stand.

Some moments didn’t need processing.
Some feelings didn’t need understanding.
Some experiences didn’t need to be used for anything.

They could simply happen.
And then pass.

That shift didn’t make my life clearer.
It made it quieter inside.

And for the first time in a long time, quiet felt like progress.