Firstly, I must apologise.

I usually post about money on Saturdays. That’s the routine. Saturday rolls around, and so do my thoughts on finances. But this week? Nothing. Silence. Tumbleweeds rolling through my brain.

Lately, my mind has wandered off the financial path and into the tangled woods of life. Feelings. People. All the messy, complicated stuff. The kind that doesn’t fit neatly into a spreadsheet. That’s where I’ve been living, mentally and emotionally.

My mind’s been pretty messy - tangled up like an old necklace shoved to the bottom of a drawer. Frustrating, knotted, nearly impossible to untangle.

But come Friday - almost like divine timing - just as I was spiralling faster than I could make sense of it, I found myself on a group call with Jessie. (You remember Jessie: grounded, wise, possibly part-angel.) And something shifted. Nothing dramatic. Just a quiet nudge - enough to tilt my perspective and make everything feel a little lighter.

And it started with one very simple reminder:

The stuff in my head? It’s just thoughts.

That’s it.

Loud, persistent thoughts - but not facts. Not universal truth. Not some divine message. Just... brain noise.

And just as I was still processing that, Jessie shared something a wise person once told her - either her mum or an 80-year-old client (honestly, my memory’s a bit fuzzy, so let’s just say a Very Wise Elder to cover all bases). It went something like this:

“The older I get, the more I realise I don’t know.”

I’d heard a version of this before - at a conference, I think - where the speaker said we should question everything we think we know. Because a lot of it? It’s kind of made up. Not necessarily false. But not necessarily true either.

I've seen this over the last couple of years, people believing things that aren’t actually true - but I guess it's real in their heads. I’ve done it too.

There are a couple of instances that come to mind - the first because it made me realise how wrong I can be, and the second because it showed how easy it is to misread people or situations. I guess, really, both showed that.

So there was a time I was pretty sure a certain person brought a weird vibe whenever they showed up - like everyone would suddenly tense up or go quiet. That’s what I thought I saw. But then I saw them recently with the same people… and they were smiling and relaxed. So yeah - I guess that whole story was total nonsense.

Then there was the gym incident. Okay, this might seem like an odd example, but it stuck with me because I couldn't make sense of it.

About a year ago, I was leaving the gym and spotted someone I was sure was my personal trainer - same blonde hair, similar height… okay, my eyesight isn’t what it used to be, but two matching features? Close enough, right?

I was about to say hello when I got closer and realised: not my PT.

I didn’t think much of it at the time. But a few days later, that same person walked past me and shot me the most intense death stare - I kid you not. Like I’d somehow offended her just by almost saying hi. I won’t lie, it threw me. I kept wondering, what was she thinking to get offended like that? I don’t get it, but anyway. I guess it’s an example of how easily we misread people or situations - and how quickly we fill in the blanks with our own assumptions.

It all reinforces the same thing: most of what’s swirling around in our heads is just stories. Not reality.

Pure, mind-made nonsense.

We convince ourselves the energy’s off, or that we’ve offended someone - when really, it’s just noise. Not fact. Not truth. Just a narrative we’ve made up in our heads.

So I’ve been reminding myself: my thoughts are just that - thoughts. They don’t mean anything. I can notice them, acknowledge them, and then choose to let them go. 

Jessie then dropped another gem (of course she did - come on, this is Jessie). She said we sometimes keep our hands on the metaphorical hot stove, holding onto what causes us pain when we could easily let it go.

In the moment, all that overthinking, fixing, and trying to “make things better” feels like the responsible thing to do. Like you’re in control. Like you’re doing the right thing.

But really? You're just gripping the pain. Holding onto the heat. When the only thing that would actually help… is letting go.

And I've been gripping that stove. Hard.

Refusing to take my hand off. Wondering, why does this hurt so much?

It’s a HOT STOVE.

And I’m just standing there, teeth clenched, going:

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m fine. I actually like third-degree burns.”

But here’s what I need to do. I don’t need to hold the pain. I don’t need to grip life so tightly. I don’t need to fix everything, or make it all make sense.

I just need to take my hand off the bloody stove.

Let life do its thing.

Let it flow.

Let life unfold in its own chaotic, magical way. Ride the waves instead of fighting against them with a broken paddle and a bad attitude, yelling "I GOT THIS!"

And I’ll be honest - I hate feeling things. It's painful. It's inconvenient. It's exhausting. Feelings suck. Why do you think so many people overeat, drink, take drugs, overwork, scroll endlessly… anything to not feel? We’ll do almost anything to avoid sitting with what’s really going on inside.

My poison? Alcohol and staying very busy.

Don’t stop. Don’t sit still. Whatever you do - don’t feel.

And if you do sit still - God forbid - it’s wine or beer o’clock. Just enough to take the edge off before the feelings get any ideas.

But…after Friday, I’m trying something new.

I’m giving myself just 10 - 15 minutes a day to sit.

No phone. No distractions. Just me and my feelings, awkwardly making eye contact.

I sit. I notice what’s there.
I feel.
And then - I let it pass.
No judgement. No fixing. No spiralling.

Do I enjoy it? Not at all. It’s uncomfortable and messy. But it’s still better than the alternative - outrunning my feelings until everything inevitably crashes down. And let’s be real, I’m already a tightly wound little stress ball, gripping a metaphorical hot stove. So… is that really any better?

Since the call with Jessie, I’m starting to trust life again. Letting it guide me, instead of gripping the wheel like I’m driving a lorry through a hurricane.

Look, I’m not fixed. I’m not finished. I’m definitely not floating.

But honestly - are we ever really fixed? What does that even mean? Life isn’t some final destination. We’re always evolving, stumbling, learning more about who we are. Sometimes we fall back into old habits or familiar patterns. That’s just… life.

But right now?

I feel more like me. ✨