A Message I Didn’t Open
I was sitting in a clinic,
waiting for my appointment.
There were only
a couple of minutes left.
Then my phone buzzed.
A government
electronic document
had arrived.
I looked
at the sender.
The tax office.
For a split second,
my whole body
tightened.
I almost
opened it.
Then another thought
came.
Not now.
If I opened it
right before
seeing my doctor,
and it was
something unexpected,
my mind
might stay there
instead of being
present
for my appointment.
So I left it
unopened.
I walked in,
not knowing
what the message was.
I simply didn’t know
what it was.
And almost instantly,
my mind
began
imagining
something important.
After my appointment,
I finally
opened it.
It was simply
a reminder
to pay
my property tax—
something
I already knew.
Only then
did I realize
how much worry
my mind had created
in those few minutes.
I had chosen
to wait.
But my nervous system
had still been
holding
the tension
of not knowing.
The Same Pressure
Later that day,
my daughter
told me
how stressful
course registration
at university
could be.
Students
all log in
at the same time,
trying to register
before
the classes
fill up.
She had already
set an alarm
for next week,
afraid
she might forget.
I smiled.
“That moment
must make you
really tense.”
“It does.”
Then we both
laughed.
Suddenly,
something
clicked.
Mid-point
The pressure
wasn’t about
the tax document.
It wasn’t about
course registration.
It was about
getting it right.
I realized
what had made
those few minutes
feel
so tense.
I wanted
to stay focused
during my appointment.
And I wanted
to make sure
I handled
the tax document
correctly.
Neither situation
was dangerous.
But both
were quietly
asking
the same thing.
Don’t make
a mistake.
Looking Back
Looking back,
I had always
assumed
this pattern
came from
my fourteen years
as a journalist.
It made sense.
My job
rewarded accuracy.
Mistakes
mattered.
But today,
listening
to my daughter,
I began
wondering
something else.
She was
a student.
Yet she knew
that same
pressure.
Maybe
this pattern
didn’t begin
with journalism.
Maybe
it had started
much earlier—
at school,
at home,
or simply
by growing up
believing
we always had
to get things right.
I don’t know
where
it began.
But for the first time,
I found myself
asking
a different question.
What if
things
didn’t have
to go
exactly
as planned?
What if
there was
another way
I simply
hadn’t seen
yet?
Maybe
another way
had been there
all along.
