The Surprise That Taught Me Something
Sometimes growth doesn’t feel like effort or insight. Sometimes it feels like surprise—followed by relief—when I realize I no longer have to do the thing I once thought was necessary.
I thought I was checking my wording.
I assumed I’d reread what I wrote, maybe tweak a sentence, and then send it on its way. It felt reasonable. Thoughtful, even.
What surprised me was realizing I didn’t need to send anything at all.
Not because I was wrong.
Not because I was defensive.
But because I was about to do something unnecessary.
I wasn’t trying to prove myself—at least not in any obvious way. I was clarifying. Adding context. Being considerate.
And then I saw it.
Clarifying can quietly become proving when the ground has already shifted.
Care can turn into labor when curiosity isn’t present on the other side.
The surprise wasn’t being told don’t send it.
The surprise was seeing why.
I noticed how easily I reach for explanation when I sense misalignment—not to win, but to restore shared ground. That impulse comes from kindness. It also comes from an old habit of working a little harder than required.
What changed wasn’t my generosity.
It was my precision.
This time, I didn’t need to add context.
I didn’t need to be understood.
I didn’t need to complete the loop.
I could simply stop.
And that stopping felt oddly peaceful.
Not dramatic.
Not victorious.
Just… done.
I’m learning that growth doesn’t always feel like effort or insight. Sometimes it feels like surprise—followed by relief—when I realize I no longer have to do the thing I once thought was necessary.