Have you felt the niggle?

Sometimes the niggle can be a good thing; it can point you in the direction of things you’re interested in. It can be a way for people to get into surprising hobbies or discover a talent they never knew they had.

But I’m not talking about that version. You know the one I’m talking about – that niggling feeling in the back of your mind that something isn’t quite right.

I’ve been dealing with that a bit recently. The past few days, my mind has been especially busy.

On the outside, I’m my usual self; content, quiet, just plodding on with life. But on the inside, I’ve been eaten alive by this niggle.

I couldn’t figure it out because my life is good. I’m very grateful to currently be on a quite calm, easy path (which requires a certain level of deliberate ignorance to achieve) and therefore feel there is no reason for me to be unsatisfied or unsettled.

Of course, the niggle doesn’t care what you think about it, whether you think it should be there or not. It’s going to keep on niggling until you can’t ignore it anymore.

That was me this afternoon, and I had to sit down to face it.

Through my familiar process of journaling, tarot cards and cries à la Miley Cyrus ‘what does it mean?!’ I came to the realisation I’d been looking for.

Now my particular realisation has to do with creativity, writing, and self-image, but the niggle is different for everyone. What my niggle was is not important for this post; what is is what it taught me and what I want to share with you now.

Like I said, I had been going through this internal cycle the past few days. I found myself getting stuck in looping thoughts and never truly feeling settled, no matter what I did. Yet I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why.

I love to ask why. I always need a reason for everything, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, so not being able to find even one minor explanation was driving me mad.

Despite being royally pissed off about not knowing what was up with me, I never actually gave myself time or space to address it. I never sat down with myself, in the quiet or while occupied with mindless household chores, to tune into this niggle. And so it persisted, along with my rage against it.

This is where the title (finally) comes in.

We all know that famous line ‘you can’t see the wood for the trees’, right? It’s about getting caught up in the minor details, focusing on the smaller parts so much that you can’t even see the bigger picture anymore.

You’re standing looking so closely at one tree that you’re missing the vast expanse of woodlands it belongs to.

That’s exactly what I was doing with this niggle.

I found myself acting as the tree that was blocking the wider view. I had been so busy inspecting myself, searching for clues in all the wrong places, that I lost sight of the woods, aka the bigger picture.

Like me, you probably get so caught up in the daily grind that you’re missing the bigger picture of your life, too.

Of course, those daily tasks should take precedent if we’re going to move forward in any significant way.

Focusing on the present is the best thing you can do for your mental health (especially with the current state of the world!) – but getting so caught up in this can also make you lose sight, too.

That’s what I’ve been dealing with lately. I had been so immersed in the tiny things about myself, wasting mental energy looking for faults, forcing realisations, and waiting for the right timing, when my ‘woods’ were right there in front of me.

I’ve been blocking my path this whole time.

And let me tell you, that’s a bloody kicker to realise.

I can’t blame anyone else, nor can I rely on anyone else to fix this for me. But that doesn’t mean I need to keep it to myself.

Where are you getting caught up in the details right now? What’s been on your mind a lot the past few days, and what are you actually focusing on?

This has been an annoying and fun realisation for me, so of course I had to share it. I hope you find your way out of the woods with me, where we can enjoy the view in it’s entirity.

Speak soon,

Rachael.

Photo by Myriam Zilles on Unsplash