Clarity Is a Trap

Why Self-Awareness Gets Sharper After You Break

According to popular belief….if you do all the right things like journaling, vision boards…maybe a life coach or 2…. “Clarity” shows up.

Apparently, in the context of personal clarity, it is defined as

“the state of having a clear, undistorted and understanding of one’s own thoughts, emotions, values and motivations allowing for purposeful action and authentic living”

I’m not sure that’s how it works.

Every time I’ve had it, it arrived uninvited. Usually after something broke. After an uncomfortable conversation with myself. Normally in the middle of something completely unrelated to the thing I was actually thinking about.

It didn’t come from optimising my mental framework or moral integrity. It came after I told myself a few too many lies, which usually required being totally lost first.

And when it arrived…it was genuinely useful. Not in the inspirational sense. In the mechanical sense. Complicated decisions are easier to make when you stop bullshitting yourself. You can see what you actually need versus what you want. The energy you were bleeding into things that were never an option becomes easier to plug.

So, the self-proclaimed life gurus have a real argument here. A strong one.

However

Clarity as a visitor? Sure.

As a permanent state? I don’t know.

Because it’s hard to switch off. It starts running on everything. Not just the situations that need it but also the ones that don’t. The moments that were never supposed to be analysed in the first place and the people that never asked to be assessed.

It starts with the obvious stuff. You stop wasting time on situations and relationships that had an expiry date you could see long before they ended. Rooms you weren’t welcome in. Thoughts that held you back.

That’s fine. Efficient and productive.

Then quietly…the same mechanism starts applying itself to everything else. The Sunday afternoon. The holiday. The silly conversation with friends that isn’t going anywhere useful but is fun just because. You find yourself measuring things that aren’t meant to be measured but meant to be enjoyed.

The thing that was supposed to make life clearer starts making it smaller. Minimising the value of simple moments that make us smile.

There’s an underrated intelligence in being happy not knowing everything.

Not exactly ignorance or the head in the sand type of thing. But more the something deliberate that recognises that some of the best things that happen aren’t the things you planned for. They arrive in the gaps and moments. The unmapped parts of the day or the year where saying “yes” made no logical sense. The detour that ended up being the highlight of the trip.

I’ve enjoyed 90% of every dollar I’ve ever wasted on things that were never going to last. I’ve loved every second I wasted on a Sunday watching footy with my girl cheering for players who will never know we exist. Every shit talking session with family and friends in a garage drinking cheap liquor exaggerating about what happened that week.

If you pursue total clarity. Map out every risk, account for every variable, leave nothing unexamined…you close the gap on these moments being possible. Because 20/20 vision means you see every flawed detail in every moment that was designed to be imperfect. And now you have a different type of grief. The kind that you can’t smile away.

I think about the people I’ve met who seemed the most alive.

Some were successful. Some weren’t. Some were financially stable. Some were flat out broke.

But they all shared a common trait. They were collectors of stories. Fails…wins…heartbreaks and all.

We all know that balance is key. Moderation is the way. That it’s a tightwire act and too far on either side and you’re done.

But it’s a juggling act.

On one hand, there’s tomorrow. On the other it’s not guaranteed.

As we build and plan the next chapters of our lives, we all know that clarity is a must. We know why we’re doing it, what it’ll cost, even if it’s for a tomorrow that may never come.

What’s harder to track is what the build costs. Not the sacrifice, not the work — you signed up for that.

I’m talking about the quiet grief. The corrosion of moments of why any of this matters.

While you’re tracking all the metrics and making sure you’re still on course…remember to waste a couple of bucks here and there. Spend a few evenings talking shit with other goofs. A lazy Sunday watching a B grade movie with your person.

Gather as many stories as you can.

Winning can wait until the morning.