I know I need to let go.

Let go of the story.

Let go of the scoreboard.

Let go of the need to be certain before I act.

In many moments, I do.

I follow the indicated direction.

Without certainty.

Without comfort.

Without a guarantee.

Then I wait.

For a result.

For something to reflect

that it meant something.

Often there’s nothing.

Not a no or a yes.

Only a stillness that doesn’t speak.

I know that space is part of the work.

I know that silence doesn’t mean I’m wrong.

I know no answer is an answer.

I wish it didn’t feel like absence.

In that space old stories return.

With subtle invitations.

Chase certainty.

Push for clarity.

Control the outcome.

I don’t take the bait.

Not usually.

I still hear the offer.

Sometimes the action I took

feels like it disappeared into nothing.

Not punished.

Not celebrated.

Nothing.

That’s what building capacity feels like sometimes.

Doing the right thing

and receiving no applause.

No connection.

No momentum.

Still, I’ll keep doing it.

A willingness test expressed.