14 min read – Link to the audio on Spotify: Your Golden Buddha Podcast
It’s okay to feel lost. It’s okay to feel broken. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed by life. It’s okay to not be okay.
You’re not alone…
Sometimes, life feels like too much—like falling on a trampoline while everyone else keeps bouncing, and you just can’t seem to stand up. These times can feel unbearable, as if no matter how hard you try to get back up, to find safety, it remains just out of reach.
Chaos has a way of shaking us to our core. It tests our ability to navigate life’s storms, forcing us to ask: What now? Do we find the tools to weather it? Do we numb ourselves and push it aside? Or do we pause, dig deeper, and discover that we can be okay regardless of our circumstances?
There’s no single correct answer. Life, by its nature, is messy. The hardest part is when it feels like we’re losing ourselves in the process.
I know this feeling well. This year has been one of the most challenging of my life: five months in the hospital and almost the entire year spent in bed, watching life pass me by. I’ve pushed my body and mind to their limits, chasing health, golf, and personal breakthroughs that always seem just out of reach. Now, I’m running on fumes. Recently, I had to stop—shut down, unplug, and sit with myself. I felt sad about everything I was going through, overwhelmed by the life decisions I had to make, and for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to admit how horrible it all has been.
To feel lost in your own mind is terrifying. It’s like there’s danger everywhere, no right answer, and every step feels like the wrong one. Anxiety rules this realm. So, we scramble for solutions—desperate for clarity, connection, and relief. But the harder we push, the deeper we sink.
What do you do when there is no solid ground to stand on? What if the answer isn’t in action? What if the clarity we seek comes from pausing instead of fixing? From surrendering instead of scrambling?
This is where radical acceptance comes in. It’s the practice of letting go—not giving up, but releasing the need for immediate answers. It’s about allowing all parts of ourselves to exist, even the messy, contradictory ones. It’s trusting that we’ll be okay without knowing every outcome and simply saying, I don’t know.
Radical acceptance doesn’t mean staying stuck; it means creating space for clarity to emerge. It’s about recognizing unhealthy habits and stepping away from environments that make you feel worse. Instead, it’s about meeting yourself with compassion. It’s choosing to spend time around the people, places, and content that empower and uplift your spirit.
Ultimately, surrendering and fully accepting life as it is becomes the only way to find peace and contentment. And you can find this where you are now. Through silence and stillness, you can rediscover your intuition. From this centered place, you’ll find the clarity to take the next step forward.
RADICAL ACCEPTANCE
Recently, life has felt overwhelming. My body has been drained from treatments, leaving me numb, while depression lingers like an unwelcome shadow. Anxiety sharpens as my body struggles to detox after treatments, draining my clarity and emotional strength. Each day feels like it brings monumental decisions about my health and future. I’ve been pushing through it all, searching for answers, but a few weeks ago, I hit a wall. My relentless striving was only making things worse. I realized I needed to pause—to breathe, let go, and release the constant need to “fix” everything.
I remember one morning vividly. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, too tired to move, too overwhelmed to try. The hum of traffic outside filled the room, a reminder that life was moving forward even as I stood still. For a while, I resisted—telling myself I should be doing something, anything, to change how I was feeling. But eventually, I gave in. I stayed still, letting the tension in my chest and body melt away as I gently reminded myself, I’m okay.
For a few days, I made a radical choice: I stopped responding to texts, avoided making any big decisions, and allowed myself to simply be. I stayed in bed, listened to music, watched Shrinking, and did whatever felt right for my mind and body in the moment. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was what I needed—a pause to let the dust settle.
In hindsight, I realized I was embodying Alan Watts’ wisdom: “Muddy water is best cleared by leaving it alone.”
In his book The Way of Zen, Watts emphasizes that stillness is sometimes the most productive thing we can practice. In a world that glorifies striving and pushing forward, it feels counterintuitive to stop moving. But if the path ahead is unclear, scrambling out of a bad situation may only make things worse.
Radical acceptance is about this stillness. It’s about telling ourselves that we are okay, even when life feels chaotic and overwhelming. It’s about resisting the urge to escape or fix everything immediately and instead allowing ourselves to simply exist in the present. It teaches us that it’s okay to say, “I don’t know.” It’s okay to stop kicking against the current and allow ourselves to float for a while. Only then can we see clearly enough to chart a path forward.
By letting the mud in my life settle, I could see the pieces clearly, even if they weren’t the pieces I wished for. As I do this, I make sure to do three things:
• Pause and Reflect: Step out of the overwhelm. Awareness of when we are in this mindset is key. Take a breath, stop striving, and give yourself time to reset. Spend time alone, journal, move or listen to music to quiet your mind.
• Identify Energy Drains: Notice activities, thoughts, or environments that leave you feeling worse and step away from them.
• Create a Supportive Environment: Fill your space with people, content, and habits that ground and uplift you.
Pausing isn’t passive—it’s an active choice. When you create space, you create a vacuum for new ideas to flow in. During this time, I’ve learned to show myself compassion, embrace all of my emotions, and fill my space with people, activities, and content that match the energy I need. As a result, the suffering I experience lessens. The problems may still be there, but they no longer feel insurmountable—or even important—because I’m content with my life as it is.
As Watts reminds us, “Action without wisdom, without clear awareness of the world as it really is, can never improve anything.” Sometimes, the wisest action is no action—pausing, quieting our minds, and allowing the answers to find us.
THE POWER OF “I DON’T KNOW’
When I feel overwhelmed or unsure, I often ask myself questions like: What do I need today? What am I feeling? Who do I need to be? But instead of scrambling for answers, I say, “I don’t know.” I allow space for those answers to come naturally.
My mind often crafts narratives about what should be happening in life or how I should react—but these stories don’t always align with what I truly need. Saying “I don’t know” helps me stop kicking in the muddy water, giving it space to settle. Clinging to control is a habit, but with practice, letting go can become one too.
Think of a time you blanked on a word you use all the time. The harder you tried to remember it, the more it slipped away. But when you let go, the word came back effortlessly. That’s what letting go feels like. By relinquishing control, the answers find their way to us.
This practice has transformed three areas of my life: Who I Am, What I’m Feeling, and The Way Forward.
By practicing “I Don’t Know,” we don’t lose control—we gain freedom. We stop forcing life into a rigid narrative and learn to flow with it, trusting that the wisdom we seek is already here. Life’s answers often come not from grasping but from surrendering.
I DON’T KNOW WHO I NEED TO BE TODAY
We often try to fit ourselves into neat little boxes, defining how we should act, feel, and aspire. I want to be someone who is content, who appreciates the little things, faces adversity with courage, and treats myself and others with patience and compassion. But on days when I feel depressed, anxious, or judgmental, I don’t feel like any of those things—and that can leave me questioning who I am.
What if, instead of resisting these feelings, I said, “I don’t know who I need to be today”? What if I gave myself permission to let go of expectations and simply allow myself to be who I am in this moment?
This doesn’t mean abandoning my values; it means softening the grip of resistance. When I let go of the need to “get it right,” I create space to be imperfect, to be human. Paradoxically, it’s in this letting go that I find my way back to the qualities I cherish most—patience, compassion, courage—because I’m no longer facing the pressure to be something I’m not right now. I’m no longer fighting myself.
Authenticity doesn’t come from striving to meet an ideal; it comes from embracing who you are, as you are. It’s like the moon—not beautiful because it’s flawless, but because of it’s craters and imperfections. When you let go of who you think you should be, you open the door to being who you are.
I DON’T KNOW WHAT I FEEL TODAY
Like life, our emotions are messy too, and as much as we want to simplify and to more easily understand them, they’re often layered, fluid, and contradictory. Even when we tune into our emotions, we impose narratives: I feel sad because… I feel anxious because…
What if, instead of defining our emotions, we let go of the need to know? What if, on days when we feel overwhelmed, we simply said, “I don’t know what I feel today”? That simple acknowledgment creates space for emotions to surface in their own time.
When I say I don’t know, I find I notice more of my inner world, the little flavors that make up my day. I might notice a flicker of joy when I see sunlight come through the window, an underlying sadness for no reason, or an excitement that I’m seeing these small moments of emotion. This curiosity softens the edges when I feel overwhelmed and creates space for more nuanced feelings to emerge. There can be sadness in joy, excitement in anxiety, and so much more.
By allowing authentic emotions, life becomes richer—not because every moment is happy, but because every moment is real. Let go of the narrative of how you “should” feel and let yourself feel what’s actually there.
I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO
We love a good plan. It gives us a sense of control, clarity, and peace of mind. But life rarely follows the script we write. Plans fall apart, timelines shift, and sometimes, no matter how hard we try, we end up standing at a crossroad, unsure of which way to turn.
I’ve learned this lesson through the challenges of my health. I never imagined spending most of my twenties in bed or in doctor’s offices, watching the life I had envisioned slip further from my grasp. For a long time, I clung tightly to plans—to what I thought life should look like—but the tighter I held on, the more fragile everything felt.
Eventually, I let go. Not because I wanted to, but because I had no other choice. And in doing so, I found something unexpected: an inner calm. It didn’t come all at once, but in small moments—savoring the warmth of a cozy bed, finding comfort in a good book, or quiet connections with loved ones when I had the energy. I also rediscovered my love for golf, realizing it wasn’t just a passion but a source of joy that anchored me through uncertainty.
On my hardest days, when I feel lost or overwhelmed, I no longer scramble to escape the discomfort. Instead, I pause and ask myself, “What if I don’t know what to do?” It’s not a resignation—it’s an invitation to lean into the uncertainty. To stop fighting for answers and start trusting that clarity will come in its own time.
Imagine a road trip: you may know your destination, but you don’t need the entire route mapped out to take the first step. All you need is to see the next couple hundred feet ahead and move forward with faith that you can handle those next few steps.
When we’re lost, the impulse to force a solution often blinds us to the real answers waiting to emerge. By trusting in “I don’t know,” we create space for the next step to reveal itself. Letting go of how life should happen doesn’t mean giving up—it means opening ourselves to the possibility of something even better.
“When we resist change, it’s called suffering. But when we can completely let go and not struggle against it, that’s called enlightenment.” – Pema Chödrön
It’s so easy to get caught up in the stories we tell ourselves—stories of how life should look, who we should be, and the milestones we think we’re failing to reach. I know this trap all too well. After years of relentless treatments, flare-ups, and setbacks, I’ve often found myself questioning everything: Am I doing enough? Am I on the right path? Will I ever get better?
Some days, the doubts feel like shadows, creeping in to overwhelm the light. There’s grief for time I can’t get back, frustration at feeling stuck, and fear that improvement might never come. For so long, I thought the answer was to fight harder—to fix things as quickly as possible. But over time, I’ve realized that striving isn’t always the solution.
Peace doesn’t come from fixing every problem or controlling every outcome. It comes when we stop resisting where we are. Radical acceptance is not about giving up—it’s about having the courage to be present in the moment. To say, This is where I am right now, and that’s okay.
Letting go of the need to know the way forward allows us to sit with uncertainty, trusting that clarity will come when it’s ready. Life doesn’t always demand that we push through; sometimes, it asks us to pause—to let the current carry us for a while. It’s not easy, and it takes practice. I’ve learned to sit with the pain and doubt, not as an enemy, but as a companion that teaches me patience and resilience.
When life feels overwhelming—when the weight of uncertainty feels too heavy to bear—pause. Feel everything without judgment and trust that the mud will settle. You don’t have to fix everything right now. You just need to be here.
You’re going to be okay.
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Beautiful. True. Profound. And yet so simple. I watched you hit that wall. It was one of the hardest parts of our time in Germany. Once again, you found a way to climb the wall. Thank you for all that you are teaching the world through your own experience. ❤️