
The Weird Relief of Finally Saying “I Don’t Know”
🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕
Dear Readers,
I used to treat not knowing like a personal failure.
If I couldn’t explain what I was doing, where I was headed, or why something hadn’t made sense yet, I assumed I was behind. Everyone else seemed to have a plan. Or at least a convincing explanation.
So I kept searching for one.
I tried to think my way forward. To connect dots that weren’t ready. To arrive at an answer quickly, just so I wouldn’t have to sit in the discomfort of uncertainty.
What I didn’t expect was how exhausting that constant reaching actually was.
The relief came quietly — the moment I finally admitted, out loud and without panic, “I don’t know.”
This Usually Appears After Effort Stops Working [ad]
If the piece you just read landed softly but deeply, that’s usually a sign you’re not meant to push right now. This prayer isn’t about asking for outcomes or fixing anything that’s broken.
It’s designed to restore internal alignment when effort no longer helps. Several readers shared that calm arrived first - clarity followed later, without forcing.
If you feel finished trying for the moment, this is often where the system resets.
Nothing dramatic happened. The world didn’t collapse. No one demanded answers. The tension I’d been carrying just… loosened.
It turned out the stress wasn’t coming from not knowing.
It was coming from pretending I should.
Once I stopped forcing clarity, something unexpected happened. I felt more present. Less rushed. Less mentally crowded. The future didn’t suddenly become clear — but it also stopped feeling like a problem that needed solving immediately.
There’s a strange honesty in saying “I don’t know” without trying to fix it.
It creates space.
Space to notice what’s actually here.
Space for things to reveal themselves in their own timing.
We’re taught to value certainty. To admire people who sound sure of themselves. But a lot of real alignment begins in the opposite place — the moment you stop performing certainty you don’t feel.
So if you’re standing in a moment where the next step isn’t obvious, this is your permission slip.
You don’t have to decide yet.
You don’t have to explain yourself.
You don’t even have to know what comes next.
Sometimes the most grounded thing you can do is stay where you are — without answers — and let that be enough for now.
Until next time,
Alex R

✨ Note: Some links here are affiliate links — if you choose to explore or purchase through them, it quietly supports this newsletter (at no extra cost to you). Thank you for helping keep the light on

