Finding Clarity When Everything Speaks at Once
The other day, I was casually scrolling through reels. Suddenly, a confident voice appeared, telling me why tea is far better than coffee. Before I could digest that, the next reel popped up — a wellness guru insisting black coffee on an empty stomach is the real magic. I survived that only to face a chef explaining that I had been making tea the wrong way for decades.
At that point, I gave up. I shut down the app and quietly poured myself a glass of plain cold water.
This, I feel, is modern life in a nutshell. Abundant knowledge, endless advice, countless opinions — all delivered with great authority. But instead of clarity, we are often left confused, tired, or paralyzed. In a world where every voice shouts, “I know the way,” making the right decision feels harder than ever.
Why do we struggle so much with decisions? Is it habit — our tendency to cling to the familiar, even when it no longer serves us? Fear — the worry that one wrong choice will undo years of effort? Or the external environment — shifting so quickly that today’s “right” may look outdated tomorrow? Perhaps it is also our porous value system — when our compass is borrowed and, every passing magnet pulls it off course.
Whatever the reason, we often end up outsourcing our decisions to trends, experts, or the louder voices around us. But what is a right decision?
I come to believe that, it is not the choice that pleases everyone, nor the one that promises zero regret. It is not the fastest, the smartest, or the most approved. A right decision is quiet in its own weight — it aligns with your essence, your values, your truth. It is a decision that, once made, leaves the heart lighter, even if the path is steep.
The right decision often comes wrapped in discomfort. It challenges habit, asks courage of us, and sometimes requires letting go of the familiar. Yet, in its stillness, it resonates. It has a clarity that no external authority can give.
“Decisions are less about knowing the path, and more about knowing yourself.”
The greatest gift we can leave the next generation is not money, not even wisdom, but the ability to decide rightly under pressure — calmly, clearly, with a compass that holds steady. For that, we must first relearn it ourselves. To pause, to feel the weight, to consult the compass within. Because life does not reward the endlessly informed, but the courageously aligned.
So, when the world shouts — tea, coffee, or cold water — ask yourself first:
Which choice will let me walk lighter? Which one carries integrity, even in the smallest detail?
The right decision is never easy. But it is always freeing.
Letters for the Inner Journey by Pushkar
If something lingered in your heart while reading this letter, I’d love to hear from you. Leave a comment below..
