Tuesday

 Daily Reflection — Learning to Not Know

Today I sit with the understanding that I am still learning.

Not learning facts, not learning titles, not learning opinions —

but learning how to not know.

There is a quiet power in admitting that I don’t have answers, only awareness.

I am beginning to see that wisdom is not in reacting, correcting, or explaining,

but in listening — deeply, patiently — without letting emotion rush ahead of clarity.

I am learning how to sit still without fear.

I see now that stillness frightens many people, but for me, stillness has always been medicine.

Isolation, when chosen consciously, is not punishment — it is refinement.

Time alone has never broken me.

It has shaped me.

I remember how movement saved my mind.

Long hours on my feet, running through darkness into daylight and back again into night.

Watching the world wake up while my body stayed in motion.

Those miles taught me what no classroom ever could.

They taught me how thought dissolves when the body becomes prayer.

There were moments when anger surfaced — sharp, unfamiliar, uncomfortable.

And in those moments, I learned something crucial:

if I was capable of wanting to hurt, then I needed healing, not justification.

That realization changed the direction of my life.

I see now that much of the world fears being alone with itself.

That fear becomes noise, repetition, and suffering retold again and again.

But when I stay with myself — walking, breathing, stretching, reading —

the stories lose their grip.

Pain passes through instead of settling in.

I understand why peace can feel confusing to others.

When fear has been the compass for so long, calm looks suspicious.

But I don’t need to explain myself.

I am learning that silence is also a language.

Everything I have lived is beginning to arrange itself.

Not as answers, but as understanding.

Not as performance, but as presence.

I have lived a story before I learned how to tell it.

And now, slowly, patiently, without urgency,

I am learning how to listen to it myself.

I remain grateful.

I remain open.

I remain willing to not know.

Yoruba Yogi