Oh- God- -

That is where “Oh, God” lives. It is the linguistic equivalent of grabbing the handrail on a roller coaster you didn’t consent to ride.

Here is the strange comfort I have found in the phrase “Oh, God.” Oh- God-

Think about it. You never say “Oh, God” when you are winning. You say it when you are losing, when you are surprised, or when you are in awe. It is the language of the human limit. And reaching your limit is often the prerequisite for a breakthrough. That is where “Oh, God” lives

You know the feeling. You’re walking through your perfectly ordinary Tuesday. Coffee in hand. Grocery list on the fridge. And then—the universe shifts. You never say “Oh, God” when you are winning

When you say it—really say it, from the gut—you are practicing surrender. You are admitting that you have run out of spreadsheets, plans, and contingency options. You are handing the steering wheel to something bigger than your anxiety.