01/02/2026 — I realized a few days ago that I didn’t have anxiety anymore. It’s not that I don't still get occasionally anxious; but I don't have that deep rooted sense of dread anymore. There’s no longer a voice in my head saying “you’re fucked you’re fucked you’re fucked” over and over. Despite this being one of the most uncertain and difficult moments of my life.

I've stopped fighting something. I think that's it. It's not that there is a plan. It's not like there's actually some kind of omniscience or a higher power that is pushing me on a path. It's just accepting the flow of things as they come. This is not to say that I’m adrift or at the mercy of the currents. I am not aimless. But like a plant growing towards the light; it just keeps going — when you watch a time-lapse they look like they're swivelling and wobbling about randomly, yet they always move towards the light. They are unburdened. The Taoists* would call this wu wei  — often translated as "non-action" but it's really more like non-forcing. Effortless effort. The plant doesn't strain toward the light. It just grows, and the growing is the moving toward.

During the come-up of a psychedelic trip, you feel all of the sensations inside your body fighting each other and it's euphoric but also unsettling and uncomfortable and even a bit scary. But it keeps building and all you can do is allow it to flow. "Let It Happen" by Tame Impala comes to mind. And that release; that unclenching; giving in to the sensations — it's faith. I think that is the parallel I can draw with Christianity — where people say "God's plan." It's just another way of saying to “let go”. The only difference is they've assigned that "letting go" to the responsibility of a deity who somehow can make sense of all of it. I'm doing the same thing. Just without a god. But it's faith all the same.

Letting go goes all the way down. Even to the idea of dying. I am of course naturally worried by death. But I don’t think I’m scared of it. It makes me sad to know that this is not forever. But the event of finally losing consciousness itself doesn't sound that bad when you release the grip that the fear has on you.

Two years ago; when we were rebuilding Corner and things were going wrong I had so much anxiety. I got TMJ so bad it was painful to eat. I literally clenched so hard that my jaw got fucked up. But I have a new awareness now. This time the stakes are higher, the task is more insurmountable. Yet I am calm. It’s not a blind belief that everything is going to be okay. It can very much not go the way I want it to. It’s not apathy towards the outcome. I still want to win. But the outcome is not something I can personally control, so all I can have is faith.

One good day can make all the bad days worth it. And I am so grateful that I have this knowledge. It is a superpower. There are moments in my life where, in that moment, as it is unfolding, I see my entire past before me; every interaction; every decision; every pain; like a string of dominos that have all fallen for me to arrive at the moment that I am in. A moment of total presence. I can feel every cell in my body and every cell that came before it and the work that they had to do to coalesce into the being that is observing them. And I think to myself; of course it had to be this way. It had to happen in this precise order; for me to be here right now. I am exploding with reverence. It's not something I can put into words.

You cannot live your life trying to minimize suffering. You can’t hedge your days. You cannot live your life trying to keep the scale balanced. Because there will be moments — good days — that will tip the scale to the point that it breaks. The point is not to seek suffering or seek joy but to keep growing unburdened.

And ugh I fucking hate how confusing it is to connect this back to Taoism but the premise is that this is the flow. That nothing should be different because it happened how it was meant to. Perhaps the alignment I feel on those days is Tao (but it’s not).

• I'm reading "The Tao is Silent" (my friend Itai gifted it to me after reading my last entry “just words”) and it validates what I've been saying about how words are not sufficient to capture experience. I don't think I fully grasp it yet; but also it's not something that can be grasped which is kind of the whole point. The Tao is something that you can't know.

What is this? Spiritual awakening? What am I going through right now? It's not spirituality. What I love about Taoism is that it doesn't expect you to suspend disbelief. It's all sensations you can feel. The teachings are rooted in a somatic way. I intuitively get it.