The Circus Is in Your Head (and You’re the Ringmaster)

Your co-workers suck.

Your neighbor is mean. And their dog definitely senses your trauma.

You’re dreading that family gathering with your emotionally unintelligent in-laws who constantly repost political memes like they're a peer-reviewed journal of Mensa Reddit threads.

My God, you think:

“If only these people were different — then I’ll finally be okay.”

Then I’ll be less stressed. More calm.
My life will be an abundance of rainbows, Skittles, and frolicking unicorns.

My reality will finally change! I will be happy!

Cue the harp music and slow-mo montage.

But here's the reality check:
Needing everyone else to change is the world’s most exhausting and disappointing self-care plan.

Your inner peace is being held hostage by wanting Karen in HR to not be, well, a Karen.

Or hoping your Uncle Buddy swaps his 24/7 viewing of cable news for a sound bath and shadow work.

The truth? People don’t always change.
Not in the ways you think they should.
Not on your timeline.
And definitely not because you silently judged them into enlightenment.

But you?

You can change.
You can end your monthly subscription to the fantasy where everyone gets their shit together just so you can finally enjoy waking up in the morning.

When you stop needing the world to rearrange itself for your comfort…
you start discovering how powerful your presence actually is.

You become the calm in the chaos — not the casualty of it.

And here’s the wildest part:
When you drop the need for people to be who you think they should be…
they either rise to the occasion, meet you at your level,
or they drift away out of your space.

Like smoke. Like dead weight.
Like Blockbuster Video becoming a footnote in history so Netflix could offer you a weekend of bingeable chillin'.

Because when your mind stops labeling everyone else as the clowns,
the circus stops performing inside your head.

You’re the ringmaster of this circus.
And the real practice?
It isn’t fixing them — it’s remembering…

“My peace doesn’t live in everyone else's behavior.
It lives in my decision to stop outsourcing my happiness.”

And that’s the kind of energy that doesn’t ask for change.
It magnetizes it.

That’s when things get weirdly magical.

You walk into work…
and Karen either took another job,
or she writes something thoughtful in your office birthday card.

And suddenly she’s… a little kinder.
A little more human.
Like she picked up your frequency without even knowing it.

That’s not coincidence.
That’s coherence.