Leaving the Door Open

I’ve been waiting for the Universe to flood in.

And then I realized…I forgot to leave the door open.

I didn’t expect a television show to crack my heart open, but there I was watching Shrinking on Apple TV when a single line of dialogue stopped me in my tracks. The character Jimmy, a man grieving the loss of his wife, is told by his mentor:

“Because life threw you a curveball, you picture how you want everything to play out in your head.”

I sat with that for a long time, because it wasn’t only about Jimmy.
It was about me.

I began to see how many places in my life I had been trying to control—quietly, almost unconsciously. It often started first thing in the morning. Standing in front of my closet, I would ask myself how I wanted to feel in my clothes, but beneath that was another question: How will I be perceived?

From there, I would mentally rehearse my entire day, who I would see, how they might experience me, what I would say, and how everything would unfold. Writing this now brings a sense of tenderness and sadness, because that way of living is exhausting. It reflects a nervous system that never truly gets to rest and a heart that never fully believed she was safe to simply show up as it is.

What I’ve come to understand is this: other people’s perceptions are not mine to control. No matter how carefully I planned or how perfectly I tried to manage every detail, I could never guarantee how someone else would see me. All that effort, every bit of armor I put on each morning, was in service of controlling something that was never mine to hold.

The safety I was seeking could never fully arrive, because it was built on sand.

Lately, I’ve also felt a quiet frustration. I’ve wondered why the Universe didn’t seem to be flowing in the way I sensed it could. I’ve been doing the inner work, showing up with intention, and still asking, “Why doesn’t it feel like things are moving?”

And then it became clear… I hadn’t been leaving any room.

When we script every outcome and try to control how life unfolds, there’s no space for the unexpected blessings that want to find us. The Universe cannot surprise us when we’ve already written the entire scene. The “flooding in” that I longed for requires openness. It asks for a willingness to not know, to allow life to meet us in ways we could never have planned.

This isn’t recklessness, it’s trust.

As I reflect on this, I’m not angry with myself. Instead, I feel deep compassion. There was a version of me who learned that planning and controlling everything was how she stayed safe after life threw its curveballs.

She was doing the best she could with what she knew. Honoring her feels important.

But I also know something different now.

I’m not asking myself to change everything overnight. The question I’m gently holding is much quieter than that:

Can I leave a little room today?
Can I allow one thing to be unplanned and trust what unfolds?

Because that is where the magic enters. That is where grace finds its way in.

If this reflection resonates with you, if you recognize yourself in the quiet rehearsal of your days or in the exhaustion of trying to control what was never yours to carry, please know that you are not alone. And you don’t have to keep holding on so tightly.

When we loosen our grip, even just a little, we create space for something beautiful to arrive.

When we change, the world changes.

When we change the world changes.