Not There Yet?

Sometimes I Feel I Am There, But I Am Not

There are moments when I am certain I have arrived. The anticipation builds, the goal seems within reach, and my heart races ahead, convinced that this is it. But just as I stretch out my hand, the thing I longed for dissolves- like a mirage fading in the desert heat. I am left clutching at air, bewildered at how something that felt so real could disappear so easily.

Why does life do this? Why does it draw such vivid pictures of possibility, only to erase them at the final moment? Just when I begin to feel settled, life takes another turn, as if reminding me that the path is never quite as straight as I hoped. I try to stay steady, but some days it feels like I am walking on shifting ground- excited one moment, disillusioned the next.

It is easy to get caught up in the highs and lows, in the thrill of anticipation and the ache of disappointment. There is a pattern I have started to notice: the joy of imagining something, the work of pursuing it, and then, sometimes, the hollow feeling when it does not materialize- or worse, when it does, and still does not feel like enough. I begin to wonder if I was chasing something real or just an idea of fulfillment I had built in my mind.

It turns out that the human mind is always in motion. It seeks progress, novelty, something just out of reach. But no matter how far we go, the sense of arrival is fleeting. We get used to what once thrilled us. We adapt. And when reality does not meet the picture we painted, we feel the tension rise within us. That restlessness, the sense of “I should feel happy, but I do not”, creates a quiet storm inside.

So, what now? What do I do when the destination turns out to be another beginning? When the thing I pinned my hopes on fades just as I reach it?

I am beginning to understand that the answer is not in trying to control everything, but in how I respond. I can still aim high, still care deeply, still give my best, but without letting my peace hang on the outcome. What matters most is the intention behind the effort. To act with honesty, to strive with purpose, and to let the results come as they may. That is where freedom lies, not in detachment from life, but in detachment from the obsession with reward.

Now what? I have come to realize that this way of thinking does not come naturally. It takes practice to remain steady when the waves rise. And truthfully, it is not easy. It challenges my instinct to seek control, to hold tightly to outcomes. But there is power in learning to hold success and failure in the same open hand. To keep showing up, regardless of whether the road leads exactly where I hoped. To trust that sometimes, the twist I did not plan for might be the one that changes me the most.

So, where do I go from here? I slow down. I breathe. I look around and ask, “What is in my control today?” I focus on that. I try to be kind to myself in the in-between moments, the ones where nothing is certain, and the future feels unclear.

Perhaps the point was never to arrive, but to stay awake during the journey. To notice, to feel, to grow. And maybe, just maybe, I am already closer to where I need to be than I realize.

Maybe...