Insight hasn’t been showing up for me as clarity or answers. It’s been softer than that. More like paying attention to when I’m already tired, when effort turns automatic, when pressure replaces honesty. I’m noticing how often I confuse intensity with care, and how much gets lost when everything has to be pushed. Lately, the practice has been letting things be smaller and truer and pausing long enough to name what’s actually here without immediately correcting it. There’s no resolution in that, just a steadier relationship with what’s real, and sometimes, that feels like enough. It’s hard too.