On the night I searched desperately and found nothing, the path only appeared the moment I let go

There are times when I spend hours moving in front of a screen, thinking, "If I just keep looking, I'll find it."
When I don't get any results, I usually blame myself, thinking I didn't try hard enough.
But was it really the amount of effort that was lacking?

My desk chair broke.
Repairing it was difficult, so I tried to find a replacement that same day.
I searched for candidates, compared specs, read reviews, and checked prices.
I kept doing that for three hours.

I had nothing to show for it.
The harvest was zero, and only time was passing by.
Thinking, "I should be able to find it if I look a little more," I swam through the screens again.
Each time, only the emptiness grew deeper.

There is something I realized later.
That night, the problem wasn't a lack of information or a shortage of options.
The forward-leaning stance of "I can manage if I just try hard enough" was actually narrowing my field of vision.

It wasn't intentional that I let go.
Because of the sheer emptiness, my energy just dropped on its own.

At that moment, there was something I saw for the first time.
I suddenly noticed a furniture retailer I hadn't checked yet.
The stock might be low, but I could go check the actual item first thing the next morning.
There was also the option of ordering it in.
A concrete path forward suddenly entered my field of vision.

During the three hours I was pushing myself, that candidate had been there the whole time.
I just hadn't seen it.
It wasn't that my effort was insufficient.
The strain itself was narrowing my perspective.

There are things you can only see when you let go.

When the flow of that night ended, my whole body was aching.
Rather than one specific spot, it felt like my whole body was heavy and throbbing with pain.
It wasn't so much that my heart was tired, but that my body had started making noise first.
Saying, "You've done enough."

After that, I watched a video.
"Give up on the outside world. But do not give up on your inner world."
I felt that those words perfectly described my state that day.

This isn't about becoming lethargic.
It's about letting go of the way of trying hard that seeks to control everything in the outside world.
Gently set down the excessive responsibility you feel toward the outside.
That is how I heard the suggestion.

Your body telling you it has reached its limit is not laziness.
It is an honest response to reality.

Trying hard itself is not bad.
But if I look honestly at the content of those three hours of effort, it wasn't purely about wanting to solve the problem.

There was a sense of duty that I "had to manage it by the end of the day."
There was also the thought that "if I give up here, I am weak."
I was trying to prove my worth by working hard.
I was trying to ensure I wouldn't be abandoned by working hard.

Those things took the form of effort, but in reality, they were submission to anxiety.
My whole body was aching because I had spent hours continuing that kind of effort.

It is not that "trying hard is bad."
The problem is "what you were following when you tried hard."
Effort driven by threats or anxiety wears down your body and dignity before it solves the problem.
If you keep doing that, the act of trying hard itself becomes painful.

When I was 42, I clearly exceeded my limits once.
I felt, "I can't do this anymore."
Even so, as time passed, I started trying hard again.

I once heard a story.
When walking through the desert, there was only one set of footprints during the most difficult times.
When asked why I was abandoned, the answer that came back was this:
"Because I was carrying you."

That story and my memory of being 42 overlapped.
During that time, I wasn't where I was solely because of my own efforts.
Perhaps I was being supported by something.
The fact that my life continues may not be due to my own efforts alone.

When I accepted it that way, something changed a little.
I felt a little more at peace with the idea that "I don't have to entrust the entire responsibility of the world to my own efforts."

I want to do my best, so I do my best.
That is not self-indulgence.
It is the most honest way to act while protecting one's dignity.

Therefore, you do not need to give up on doing your best.
You just need to gradually unclench the fist you have been holding tight out of threats or anxiety.
Let go of the effort used to force the outside world to submit, and repurpose it as a strength that your inner self can agree with.

Unclenching your fist is not giving up.
It is the act of returning the locus of responsibility to your inner self.
Only then can your efforts land in a gentle place.

Even after unclenching your fist, there are days when your body still won't move.
I wrote about those days in another article.