I’ve been thinking a lot about the noise in learning these days—the endless “how-to” lists, step-by-step guides, and voices telling me what I should read or do. It’s exhausting, and at times, it overwhelmed me.
I have to be honest: a lot of that overwhelm is on me. I fall for the marketing, the shiny promises, and the fear of missing out on what someone else has to say. That’s my responsibility. I have to shut it down and choose what truly deserves my attention.
So I’ve started slowing down. Just me, my Bible, my journal, a few art supplies, and carefully selected commentaries or resources. I’ve had to make choices what to read, who to listen to, which voices actually stick. The ones that don’t add meaningful insight don’t get a seat at the table.
As I read, especially in the Old Testament, I notice things in a new way:
- I catch verses that cross-reference others, sometimes in ways I’ve never realized even when the margin notes point them out.
- Familiar stories take on fresh meaning. Take Samson, for instance. Delilah asks him where his strength comes from. Most imagine him as a huge, muscular man. But I can’t help but picture him as tall and lean strong in a different way. That shift changes the story for me.
- I watch God’s plan unfold in 1 Samuel. I see the Israelites repeating mistakes, yet God remains faithful to provide for them. And sometimes, I see myself in them flawed, forgetful, but loved and guided.
Slowing down like this—curating my inputs, reflecting in my journal, letting the text breathe is opening up insights I’d missed before. Clarity grows in quiet spaces. Depth matters more than breadth. And my pace? It’s enough.
Choosing what and who to let in doesn’t just protect my focus it shapes my learning in a way that’s meaningful and lasting. Growth isn’t about absorbing everything; it’s about absorbing what matters.
Thanks for stopping by and reading, you can follow me on Substack @anchorangel ⚓️😇
The Kedge Anchor 
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