The Art of Almost Letting Go

Last week was a tough one. Self-doubt clouded over me—right on cue, it seems, just as I start to gain the confidence to do something big, like launching The Organic Philosopher.

I found myself spiraling about the ever-ticking clock we all have, wondering what I’ll make of myself before time runs out. I have such a deep desire to make a positive impact on the world around me, but I keep getting derailed—by both internal and external struggles.

It’s wild how I can feel confident and grounded in a decision one minute, and then completely lose faith in the process the next. One moment I’m full of motivation, the next, something knocks me sideways and I feel like I’m right back at square one. Like one of those dreams where you’re stuck on a figurative hamster wheel—running in circles, only to end up right back where you started, no matter how hard you try.

There’s clearly still work to do. If I’m this easily triggered by day-to-day bumps, I know I’m not as rooted as I’d like to be. On days when I feel stuck or in need of answers, I turn to my tarot deck. There’s a sense of comfort and clarity in the cards. It’s hard to explain—but somehow, it feels like home.

The Organic Philosopher is meant to reflect the ‘real’ version of me. But sometimes, I still feel like I’m performing. I catch myself writing what I think people want to hear. The thoughts are mine, yes—but I’m always trying to shape them into a message. Something that ties up neatly.

Up until now, I’ve mostly shared the polished version of things—the beautiful, curated photos that feel safe. And while I genuinely love them, I’ve started to realize that part of me has been hiding behind them. Afraid to show anything raw. Anything real. Anything imperfect.

In some ways, I’m still performing. Still trying to make it look good, make it sell, make it land. Trying to control the outcome. But if I’m being honest? That approach hasn’t really worked. I’ve done all the “right” things and still felt unsatisfied with the progress.

I feel embarrassed when the likes are low or the comments are quiet. And when someone does leave something kind, I immediately wonder if they’re just being nice.

The first card I pulled yesterday was Death. I get that card all the time. I think it’s trying to tell me something.

I need to stop trying to control the outcome.

I keep trying to make everything safe. But sitting alone with discomfort—without trying to fix it, dress it up, or make it mean something—just letting it exist and admitting that it’s real? That’s hard. It feels like a part of you needs to cling to something, anything. There’s this grey area where you’re not sure if you’re headed in the right direction. And it’s hard to trust your gut when it’s telling you something you’re not quite ready to hear.

My brain says: Keep doing exactly what you’re doing. Don’t rock the boat. It’s not fulfilling, but at least it’s safe.

But my heart? It’s aching for something more—for the unknown, the unpredictable, the place where possibility lives.

But here’s the real question:
Am I actually safe…
or just stuck—too scared to take the leap into what might finally set me free?

I created this blog from a place of alignment and passion. And yet, I keep coming back to the same questions:
Am I doing enough?
Is this meaningful?
Should I be more strategic?

Instead of just doing the thing I originally set out to do—write. Freely. Without a perfect plan or formula.

The truth is, I have no idea what will stick. I have an idea of the end goal, sure, but I think most of us know life doesn’t work that way. You can plan all you want, but at the end of the day, the universe has its own timing.

Anxious But Unbothered was an almost-advice blog written by someone who didn’t feel qualified to give advice. The Organic Philosopher, though—it’s something else. It’s a stream of consciousness. A practice in showing up honestly. A way to hold myself accountable to being who I actually am, not who I think people want me to be.

It’s a tough pattern to break after so many years. I’m not going to be perfect. But I think being honest about it is the next best step.