I’ve been thinking about how much pressure we put on ourselves to have all the answers.
Some of this pressure comes from our surrounding culture. The thunderous waterfall of our gorgeously curated public-facing lives, filled with carefully edited stories and deliciously crafted moments is difficult to resist.
But the more I sit with, and peer inside, the pressure to have all the answers, the more I recognize that often this pressure comes from within us. From the belief that we’ve got to keep up. Prove a point. Show everyone just how OK we really are. This pressure is’t really about needing to know; it’s about needing to look like we know.
About sending the message that we’re more than enough because we’ve cracked the hidden code to living incredibly connected lives while completely hiding our hearts.
The combination of this internal and external pressure births a loneliness that’s difficult to shake. A deep-seated ache that ebbs and flows but never abates.
So what are we supposed to do if the pressure to have all of the answers isn’t really about having all of the answers?
I haven’t mastered the answer to this question, but I have noticed this: real connection transforms performance into presence.
When we connect as humans, when we truly hear each other, when we know that we are seen valued and understood, we suddenly discover that there’s room to show up as who we actually are instead of as the person we think we’re supposed to be.
This kind of connection doesn’t start with having answers. It begins with asking questions. With listening. With deciding to simply show up, and be you.