A Magic of Doubting

The suitcase is still in the corner, unopened, and I feel the pull of every choice I’ve made.

Every day I question myself.
Sometimes it’s small — wondering if I packed enough, if I made the right decision, if I should have stayed or left.
Other times, it’s deeper — doubts about the path I’ve chosen, about whether I’m moving at all, even though I’ve been here, on this farm, for several times before and I considered it as my home.

I’ve been standing at the crossroads for so long, wanting to finally choose a path.
And yet, I’m still here — As if life itself paused, holding its breath, waiting for me to move. But I can not. I am trapped, between past and future. Am I?

It’s strange how quickly the body gets used to comfort and how even faster it forgets what it’s like to live without it. Two months away, and now I’m learning everything again — to endure, to adapt, to find peace in the hard and simple. I know that it is not start from zero, but it definitely feels like that.

I keep asking myself:
Is it worth it?
Did I choose right?
Does it make sense — this strange, uncertain way of living?
The future…

And then deep down in my soul a quiet “maybe” rises.
Maybe it doesn’t always look like progress.
Maybe from the outside, it seems like I haven’t moved at all —
no home of my own, no solid ground, just another cycle of leaving and returning….sometimes it even feels like living in a monastery.

But with all those thoughts and doubts…
Each slow morning, each silent night, each day of work —
it all strips away another layer of what I thought I was.
Piece by piece, I’m uncovering what’s real.
It hurts. It’s hard. But it’s a process. Baby steps. I am moving forward.

We all have those demons inside of us. Because doubt never truly disappears.
It sits beside you like an old friend, whispering —
“Shouldn’t you be further by now? Shouldn’t you have more? Shouldn’t you be someone else already?”

Freedom means tears and I have cried them. I definitely will do more. That is something I have expected…I won’t act like a superhero. I can admit the last days were rough — I cursed the cold, the work, the exhaustion, even my own impatience.
Two months away – and with that come new doubts: about life, about choices. Our brain wants to protect us, to keep stress at bay, which often leads us to the easy decisions. They feel safe. Comfortable. But are they?

So I am asking : Is it worth it? Did I choose well? Does this make sense? — or is this the lesson?
That growth isn’t always visible.
That sometimes standing still is the bravest thing we do.
That maybe this slow, raw kind of life — where you face yourself daily —
isn’t a failure at all but the quietest kind of becoming

Perhaps this is the magic of doubting: it guides you, shapes you, and reminds you that even small, quiet steps are still progress.

But I guess that’s a thought for another story.

If you wish to read the reflection that began this journey, see When the Cold Teaches Stillness