Notes from an Unstable System

I’ve been thinking about how much of life feels like a control system—messy, nonlinear, and constantly adapting. At first, I tried to force stability, to make every part of me behave, to respond exactly as I wanted. But that’s not how real systems work, and I’m not exempt from the dynamics of change. I’ve come to see myself as an unstable system—one that’s still figuring out the right feedback loops. And that’s okay.

There have been overshoots, moments where I reacted too much, felt too intensely, reached too far. There were oscillations, too—waves of doubt, bursts of clarity, and back again. But through all of that, I’ve learned one thing that matters more than anything else: don’t be afraid.

Fear freezes you. It tricks you into thinking you’re not allowed to be in flux. But I’ve stopped trying to flatten the curve. I let it move, I let myself move. I’ve noticed how my system responds to the world around me—how people, places, conversations all act as inputs. Some reinforce me, some destabilize me, but all of them teach me.

I’m learning how to tune myself better, with less panic and more presence. I’ve started finding moments of peace—not because everything is perfect, but because I’m no longer afraid of the imperfections. I don’t expect to be done. Systems adapt, and so will I. I’m not chasing perfection. I’m building a system that can adapt, absorb, and grow. Now I trust the process. I trust the trajectory.