Embracing the Unknown

Life weighs, yet it does not. It slips through your fingers like water, and just when you think you have grasped it, you find you were holding only the wind. There is no fixed form, no final certainty — only desire, thrumming beneath the skin, always just beyond reach, dissolving the moment you try to name it.

You wanted meaning — something solid, something to anchor yourself to, something you could hold without fear of losing. A truth that would not shift with time, would not vanish under scrutiny. But the truth — and it was truth because it hurt — is that life is too light to be held. It is insubstantial, elusive, impossible to contain. And it is this lightness that unsettles you. If everything is possibility, where do you stand? If you are free, then who are you?

Freud would say you desire what you cannot have. Jung would remind you of the shadows you refuse to face. Lacan would laugh and tell you that you are nothing but lack, a hollow space forever seeking fulfilment. But what if, instead of searching for an answer, you simply allowed yourself to feel? What if, instead of reaching for certainty, you surrendered — to the unknown, to the void, to the exquisite instability of existence? What if you let yourself fall, as one does into the sea, without knowing how to swim?

Perhaps the lack itself is the way forward. Perhaps the secret is not in completion, but in the acceptance that you will never be whole, never fixed, never final. And suddenly, there is beauty in that. Because lightness — the unbearable weightlessness you once feared — is not a burden. It is possibility. It is the freedom to be someone new each day, to shift without fear, to lose yourself and in doing so, find something unexpected.

And so, you breathe. And you let life carry you.