Patterns and Permission

Look for patterns.
That’s what I keep telling myself.
Not just in behavior, but in the way life folds and unfolds—like origami made of memory and intuition.

I watched two documentaries recently. Different people, different lives. But the same thread ran through both: people can take advantage. Even the ones closest to you. Especially them. It left me wondering—who do you trust? Who do you believe?

I’ve signed things without reading them. Agreements, expectations, invisible contracts. I didn’t know what I was agreeing to, but I had to trust that someone else would act in my best interest. They trust me. So why is it so hard to trust myself?

People find ways around things. Loopholes. Workarounds. Emotional shortcuts. And yet, I still believe things happen for a reason. Even the detours. Even the disappointments.

I remember a time when someone wanted to build something—a school, a structure, a dream. And all I wanted was to create a space for healing. I didn’t want the institution. I wanted the sanctuary. Was that a sign? A seed? Am I destined for things I don’t understand yet?

I wonder what the plan is. If there is one. If God has a blueprint I haven’t been shown. I’ve spent so long thinking about what I don’t have. Watching others receive what I’ve longed for. And sometimes, the jealousy creeps in. Even toward people I love. People I want to see thrive.

It’s a strange feeling—to be proud and envious at the same time. It makes me question myself. Am I broken? Am I selfish? Why do these thoughts run through my head like they own the place?

But maybe they don’t own me. Maybe they’re just passing through. Maybe they’re asking for attention, not permission.

And maybe the pattern isn’t about what’s wrong with me.
Maybe it’s about what I’m learning to see.