You can’t see the shape of your life while you’re standing in the middle of it.

Patterns need distance. From inside a stretch of time everything reads as a series of unrelated days, some good, most neutral, none obviously part of anything. The shape resolves later, when you can see which days turned out to be hinges. Judging your life from the middle is like judging a song from one bar.

Give up, for now, on knowing whether this period is working. Instead keep a short record, a line a day about what happened and what you noticed. Future you will be the one who can read it.