I Don’t Know What This Phase Is Asking of Me

The last month and a half has been one of those phases where nothing is exactly falling apart, but nothing feels settled either.

My elder one was unwell.

The offers I had created weren’t getting the response I had hoped for.

The business started dropping.

And while all of this was happening,

I was also meeting parts of myself I thought I had already healed.

There were days I genuinely thought, “Haven’t I already worked through this?”

And then another thing would happen.

Another worry.

Another disappointment.

Another moment of not knowing.

And I found myself trying to make sense of everything.

Should I change something?

Should I push harder?

Should I wait?

Am I missing something?

What am I supposed to be doing differently?

I have always been someone who finds her way through things by understanding them.

But this time, I couldn’t.

And that was perhaps the hardest part.

Not knowing what was happening.

Not knowing what to fix.

Not knowing whether I was supposed to keep going in the same direction or let something go.

And somewhere in that uncertainty, my faith started shaking.

That surprised me.

Because I have spent years talking about surrender.

About asking the Divine for help.

About trusting that there is something beyond what I can see.

But sitting in this phase,

I had to ask myself something much more uncomfortable.

Was my faith actually shaking?

Or was I simply finding it difficult to trust when life wasn’t giving me anything to hold on to?

Because when things are working, surrender feels beautiful.

You can say, “I trust.”

You can say, “Whatever is meant to happen will happen.”

But when your child is unwell, your work is slowing down, you are questioning yourself, and you have no idea what happens next— it is much harder to say the same thing.

I realised I wanted help.

But I also wanted reassurance.

I wanted to know that I wasn’t getting it wrong.

I wanted to know that this was temporary.

I wanted to know that if I kept going, things would eventually make sense.

And maybe that is where I have been getting confused.

I don’t think surrender is about believing that everything will work out exactly the way I want.

Because if that is what I need in order to trust, then I am not really surrendering.

I am waiting for certainty.

And perhaps this phase is asking me to do something much harder.

To keep doing what feels right, without knowing whether it will work.

To take care of my child, without being able to control everything.

To keep creating, even when the response is disappointing.

To meet the wounded parts of me, without immediately deciding that I must have failed at healing.

To pray, without turning the prayer into a demand for a particular outcome.

I don’t know what happens next.

And honestly, there are still days when that scares me.

But I am beginning to wonder if I have been asking the wrong question.

Instead of, “What is happening and how do I fix it?”

maybe there is another question I need to sit with.

“Can I stay connected to myself and to the Divine even when I don’t understand what is happening?”

I don’t know the answer yet.

Maybe that is okay.

Because perhaps this phase isn’t asking me to figure everything out.

Perhaps it is asking me to experience what I have spent so much time talking about.

Surrender.

Not as an idea.

But as the very uncomfortable experience of not knowing what comes next, and still choosing to stay.