The Reality We’re Running From

We all run from something. But what exactly are we running toward? Is it success? Is it happiness? Or are we simply running because stopping feels too overwhelming?

I still remember the day my English teacher asked the class, “Who wants to be successful, and how will you achieve that success?” It was one of those typical questions designed to inspire. And as I looked around the classroom, I saw the usual responses: ambition, hard work, and a clear path. But one response has stayed with me ever since. A student said, “Success is something we feel after achieving something we’ve put our best efforts into. It’s that moment when you realize you’ve done everything you could, and now you’re reaping the rewards. It’s 95% happiness and 5% of anything else—no regrets.”

That idea struck me because it made success sound so simple, almost like an achievable goal. But for me, it hasn’t been simple at all. My whole life has been a blur of plans, aspirations, and distractions. I remember when I started a computer course and told my parents, “I want to go into the computer field too.” I was convinced that was the path I needed to take. Then, just months later, I decided I wanted to work in an NGO, thinking it would fulfill me in ways nothing else could. After that, it was business, and then I wanted to learn everything—I wanted to master dance, play the guitar, play the flute, learn about cars and bikes, try acting. My list seemed endless, and yet none of it ever felt complete. None of it felt real.

I often find myself stuck, running in circles, chasing something that I can't even define. Is success supposed to come from checking boxes—getting that degree, landing that job, making enough money to feel comfortable? Or is it something deeper, something we can’t even put into words? Every time I think I’m close to defining it, it slips away.

There’s a kind of pressure that comes with the idea of success, especially when you’re not sure what it looks like. People always say that if you work hard enough, success will follow. But I’ve worked hard, yet sometimes I feel further from it than ever. The truth is, I don’t have a clear picture of what success means for me. I’m still figuring it out.

At 22, I feel like I’m supposed to have it all together, but the truth is, I don’t. My plans change almost daily. I’m studying BA English Hons and, with my exams coming up, I often find myself wondering if this is the path I should have chosen. I’ve been juggling work that doesn’t feel fulfilling—my first full-time job as a telecaller lasted only a month before I was let go, and my second full-time job lasted just over a month too. Every time I change jobs or try something new, it feels like I’m inching closer to what I want, but in reality, I’m still running.

I’ve realized that I’m not just running toward success. I’m running from something too. Fear. Doubt. Uncertainty. The reality that I might not know what I’m doing. The reality that maybe I’m not as prepared as I should be. The truth is, I’m often terrified that I’m running out of time and opportunities.

The truth about life is that it’s messy. It’s not a straight line from point A to point B. It’s a winding road, filled with detours, dead ends, and crossroads. The question I keep coming back to is this: what am I really running from? And more importantly, why can’t I stop?

There are moments when I feel like everything is going well, when the noise in my mind fades, and I believe that maybe I’m on the right track. But then, there are other moments, more often than I’d like to admit, when I feel lost, unsure, and overwhelmed. And I wonder: does anyone else feel the way I do? Or is it just me, trapped in my own world of confusion and doubt?

What do we do when we’re caught between the pressures of life and the overwhelming need to figure things out? How do we start facing the reality we’re running from? I don’t have all the answers yet. But I’m starting to understand that maybe the first step is accepting that I don’t have to have everything figured out. Maybe the truth is that it’s okay to not know. It’s okay to be uncertain. What matters is facing that uncertainty instead of running from it.

If you’re like me—feeling uncertain, afraid, and maybe even lost—then you’re not alone. We’re all running from something. But perhaps, the key to finding peace isn’t in running faster. Maybe it’s in standing still for a moment, and facing the reality we’ve been avoiding.

"The only thing standing between you and your goal is the story you keep telling yourself." — Jordan Belfort

Story: The Perfect Clock

In a small town, there was a man named Ravi who ran a watch repair shop. He was known for his remarkable skill in fixing even the most broken, complicated timepieces. People from neighboring towns would come to him with their clocks and watches, confident that he could restore them to perfection.

One day, an old man entered Ravi’s shop carrying a grandfather clock. The clock was beautifully carved but was no longer working. Ravi eagerly opened it up, expecting to find broken gears or a stuck pendulum, but everything inside was intact. Perplexed, he asked the old man, “What seems to be the problem?”

The old man replied, “It doesn’t tick. It doesn’t tock. It’s silent, no matter what I do.”

Ravi inspected the clock again and realized the issue wasn’t mechanical—it was perfectly functional. The problem lay in the old man’s perception. “Your clock is working fine,” Ravi said. “What makes you think it’s broken?”

The old man sighed. “When I bought this clock, I imagined how it would sound—a loud, steady tick-tock echoing through my home. But this clock is too soft. It barely makes a sound. I feel like I’ve been cheated.”

Ravi thought for a moment and then asked, “Do you want the clock to work the way you imagined, or do you want it to work the way it was designed?”

The old man stared at him, speechless. After a long pause, he said quietly, “I guess I never thought about it that way.”

Ravi smiled and explained, “Sometimes, we’re so focused on our expectations that we forget to see things as they truly are. Your clock isn’t broken—it’s doing exactly what it’s meant to do. Maybe it’s not the clock that’s silent, but the noise in your mind that’s drowning it out.”

The old man took the clock home that day, and for the first time, he heard its faint but steady tick-tock. It wasn’t the sound he had imagined, but it was enough to remind him that things didn’t need to be perfect to have value.

Lesson from the Story: Like the old man, we often create expectations about what success or happiness should look like. When reality doesn’t match those expectations, we convince ourselves that something is broken. But the truth is, we’re not broken—we’re just looking at life through the lens of false perceptions. When we learn to see things as they are, instead of as we wish they’d be, we free ourselves from the illusions we’ve been running from.

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