I’m starting to suspect that a lot of my restlessness comes from the idea that I should be improving all the time.

Not learning...

improving.

There’s a difference I didn’t notice before.

I used to think happiness was a destination—a place I’d finally reach and recognize once I "arrived."

Lately, it feels more like a background frequency. It’s just there, waiting for me to stop demanding the moment be something other than what it is.

A lot of what I call “pressure” doesn’t actually feel like it comes from my own life.

It feels inherited. Absorbed. Stuff I picked up along the way and never thought to question.

Lately, I’ve been wondering how much of it I could simply… set down and walk away from.

It’s strange how attention works.
Where it goes quietly becomes the place we live from.

Not because it changes reality, but because it changes what reality feels like from the inside.

I’ve noticed how much relief comes from letting go of the idea that every feeling needs to mean something.

Sometimes tired is just tired.
Sometimes sad is just sad.

Nothing to fix.
Just something passing through.

I used to think happiness was an outcome.
Now it feels more like a byproduct of being less at war with the moment I’m in.

Not exciting.
Just calmer.
And surprisingly enough.

"Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, Including you." Anne Lamott

Sometimes it feels like my experience of reality depends less on what’s happening and more on how tightly I’m gripping the story about it.

I don’t know what that means yet.

But, I’m paying attention.

Lately I’ve noticed how much tension comes from trying to get life “right.”
Not better. Not perfect. Just right.

Something softens when I stop doing that — even if nothing else changes.

Hi — I’m Robyn. I’m figuring things out out loud.

This is a space for curiosity, not certainty.
For noticing what makes life feel lighter, calmer, or more honest.
No answers to sell. No conclusions to push.

Take what’s useful.
Leave the rest.

— Renegade Philosophy