The Swooshy Arrow

This diagram was surprisingly challenging to create. You know that feeling when something makes perfect sense in your head? It’s clear, intuitive, almost like a dance. Then, you try to capture it on paper, and suddenly it’s boxes and arrows and scribbles. That was my experience with this meditation insight. I started with a big swooshy arrow, feeling like an artist in flow, and ended up with… a visual puzzle that looks more like a science project.

During meditation, I pictured a big swooshy arrow—blue and curling—representing a simple shift from one set of thoughts and behaviors to a radically different experience of the same things. The swooshy arrow was the perfect representation of this shift I felt—something light, effortless, that just swoops in and transforms everything in its path. It’s the kind of arrow that says, “Hey, no need to overthink this.” It was more about the feeling of letting go than about any specific outcome.

So why, you might ask, did it turn into a diagram with boxes, labels, and lots of arrows? There’s something about human nature that loves making simple things complicated. We have an epiphany and immediately start dissecting it. Can we just let the swooshy arrow be? Apparently not. We want diagrams, explanations, and flowcharts. The meditation experience said, “Just shift your focus.” But of course, I had to go and create a map for it.

And that map? It’s all about flip-flopping behaviors. The concept sounds elegant: instead of obsessing over food, I could obsess over movement. Instead of resisting movement, I could try resisting certain foods. It’s like rearranging furniture in your mind—familiar elements, just with a new layout. There’s something oddly freeing in realizing you don’t have to “get rid of” anything; you just move things around. For once, I don’t have to “fix” anything; I just need to try placing it somewhere else.

So, how do we actually make this work? I started small. When I noticed myself obsessing over food—what I ate, what I planned to eat—I paused and asked, “What would it look like to use this energy on movement?” It’s like rewiring a circuit in my brain. I remind myself that I can simply shift my focus, that I can experiment with where I put my mental energy. The more I practice, the more natural it becomes.

Meditation creates this space of non-judgment—a place where all these “undesirable” behaviors suddenly feel neutral, even kind of interesting. From that space, it’s easier to look at them objectively and say, “What if I just moved things around?” Instead of trying to exile certain habits, I can simply shift their energy. The openness I felt during meditation allowed me to see that I don’t need to judge myself for having these tendencies. They’re just part of the puzzle.

And sometimes, the simplest insights turn out to be the hardest to capture on paper. It's funny, isn’t it? We use every ounce of brain power to expect, search, judge, and compare, only to discover that a single swooshy arrow might hold the key. Whether or not I get this “flip-flop” idea working in real life, I get to keep exploring, moving things around until it feels right. That’s progress in itself.
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So here’s to the swooshy arrow—a symbol of simplicity, ease, and trust. I may have turned it into boxes and arrows, but the insight remains. Sometimes, the solution doesn’t need to be complex. Sometimes, a little swoosh is all we need to rewire our experience.