From a very young age, I found comfort in having control. And the path to that control was education, financial independence, professional success, power. I believed that if I achieved all of that, I would have control and my fear would disappear. Knowledge and power would make me freer and freer. So I chased it, with calculated steps in search of more power. I thought power would bring me peace. But it didn’t.
Today I see that there is no power in the world that can give me the security I want. I will always be afraid. Afraid of being a woman, afraid of illness, of losing the people I love, afraid of my own mind. It’s as if I built an entire life trying to protect myself from fear, only to realize that there is no way to protect myself from it.
I’ve been asking myself what it means to live knowing that we have no control. I feel powerless, as a woman, as a human being. How do you move forward while accepting that the world is unfair, that there are forces and structures that shape so much of our lives without our consent? The only answer I found is not thinking too much about it, submerging into the paradox of consciously accepting ignorance.
So does that mean that maybe the meaning of life is not to conquer power? Maybe it is to learn how to live without it. To stop trying to defeat fear and begin walking side by side with it.
Resilience. It’s not about winning or controlling. It’s about existing even with fear. It’s about growing stronger little by little, with every fall, every doubt, every moment in which I choose to stay.
So maybe I don’t need power. Maybe what I need is compassion, for myself and for others. Maybe living, simply living, is already an act of courage. And maybe the purpose lies exactly there: in continuing, in growing with time, in allowing each day to make me a little more resilient. Maybe that is already enough.
All I know is that I know nothing.
As always, stay in draft, keep becoming.
Me
