I stood on the scale this morning; no surprises there. It’s been reading within the same five pound range for months on end now. For some reason though, today a truth occurred to me.
I’m in a holding pattern.
My weight is only a picture, an analogy, a snap shot of my whole internal life. Months ago, just after we first moved in, I lost ten pounds. 10 pounds. That’s an accomplishment. Then, things happened and I stopped losing the weight. The interesting thing is that, even though I’m not losing any more weight, I’m also not gaining it back. (That in itself is nothing to sneeze at; five months maintaining a loss - even if it is only ten pounds - is an accomplishment.) I’m just holding at this steady weight.
Some days vary a bit; there’s water retention, a bag of chips eaten, or exercise done, but it all just springs back into place (give or take a pound). I’m holding here.
It’s true of the rest of my life too, true of my internal life. I’m just hovering around the same area. It’s not a bad place to be and maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I just told myself (in fact, I know I have told myself this) that this place was good, it was happy and peaceful and I could stay here; I wouldn’t mind staying here. Staying means not having to face the risk of moving forward (and for me the next move is pretty darn scary).
I don’t remember actually giving myself permission to plant myself, but that is exactly what’s happened. Of course, we aren’t meant to stay in one place. Eventually, if you camp out in the same area too long and refuse to move forward you start to slip backwards. This place used to be happy and peaceful, now it just feels like a cage, like I’m trying to resuscitate something, some feeling, that just can’t come back in this place.
But, I haven’t fallen too far behind either. Whenever I feel myself really slipping backwards I’ve taken action. I’ve done what I needed to do to regain my footing. A little bit of forward motion, action taken on some step or project. Oddly enough, it’s never enough action to propel me forward, just enough to get me back to this place.
I’m not aware of making these choices, but it seems that I’ve perfected just the right balance to hold me in stasis. I’ve created a holding pattern for myself. It’s not nurturing me, it’s not keeping me happy, it’s not keeping me well, but still I’m maintaining it.
I’m well and truly stuck.
Now that I see the pattern I have no choice, I have to choose. Move forward or refuse to move forward (I know that refusing doesn’t mean to stay in some happy bubble, refusing means to choose to walk away from myself and my integrity.) Today’s been a different day so far. It smelt different, felt different. I know I’m choosing moving forward. It was the perfect day to finally see (and leave behind) the months long holding pattern for what it really was.
I think I know how we begin the process of losing our selves.
It all begins with: worry, doubt, or fear. We are presented with something that frightens us; an opportunity, the next logical step, a risk. I don’t think it has to be a big thing, it could be anything really. If it’s true to you and strikes close to your heart then chances are it’s scary. It’s always scary to move closer to being yourself (I haven’t quite figured out why that is though).
Being scared is normal and perfectly acceptable. In fact, I think that when something is the next right step it’s absolutely necessary that it stretches us a little bit, and anything that stretches us is going to be a little scary. Come on, some days I’m scared to commit to eating no potato chips; what if I get a really big craving for them? What will I do then?
Being scared, or having doubts, or worrying about whether we are doing the right thing, those kinds of things aren’t the problem. They are just plain normal. (I’ve come to this conclusion because no matter how darn hard I try I just can’t seem to shake them.) Looking risk (no matter how small or large it may be) in the face is guaranteed to stir up fear; what really matters is what we do in response to that fear.
I know my first inclination is to step away from the risk (”Put down the big idea and walk away slowly.”) - I’ll be the first to admit that I can be a bit of a chicken. But, it turns out this is when I get into all my problems. You see, I start out by trying to avoid just one thing: the risk.
But, I can’t just avoid doing the risk, I also have to avoid thinking about the risk. This is when finding distractions can be very helpful. So, now I’m trying to distract myself from the choice that I’ve decided to back away from, but that’s easier said than done.
One of the things that makes the risk so risky is that it’s very much Me. I mean, if it was something inconsequential then it wouldn’t be very scary; it’s only the things that really matter to me that scare me enough to freeze me into inaction. Which means that, one day while I’m desperately trying to ignore the very loud knocking in my head (I’ve discovered that the “next right step” can be very pushy and annoying when you ignore it for too long) I find that doing those things I really love to do, the things that really make me feel like myself, just makes the knocking louder.
My solution is simple: do more of those distracting activities instead. Now instead of just distracting myself from moving forward I slowly find myself taking up distractions to just avoid the here and now, and eventually I’m successfully distracting myself from my Self.
Despite the fact that I’m feeling very lost and frustrated, and the fact that I know I’m miserable and unhappy, I also still know (at least subconsciously) the minute I turn back to myself I’m going to be face to face with that (by now) terrifying next step.
It turns out that the slide from happily moving forward in life to living paralyzed by fear and distraction isn’t really that difficult a leap. How come it’s so much easier, and faster, to go astray than it is to back peddle and correct all the mistakes? I mean, you can gain ten pounds in a matter of days, but it takes months to lose it again. I hate that.
I wonder if the people who feel lost and like they have no idea who they are and why they are here are the people who have completely embraced distraction rather than facing the risk (especially when that would mean disappointing someone they love) until their entire lives become the distraction and they don’t even remember who they were (or were on the way to becoming).
In my case I just can’t stand distracted life. It grates against my nerves. So, I suppose, it’s back to facing the risk and finally taking the leap.
On the plus side, I’ll finally be spending some time with my Self again, which is nice because we haven’t seen each other in a little while.
Wakizashi sent me an email this morning with a link to a YouTube video with instructions to plug my laptop into a stereo system before playing it.
Now, I don’t know anything about opera, but I can tell a talented singer when I hear one, and the Paul Potts video he sent me was definitely worth listening to in surround sound. Which is why I decided to watch the rest of his performances (and, well, a few other Britain’s Got Talent videos while I was at it).
I watched this video where he shared a bit of his story and I loved it.
I firmly believe that passion, creativity, and purpose can change our lives, I really do (even if that makes me a bit of a dreamer), which is why I loved what Paul had to say in his interview. I think we all should get that experience that helps to convince us that we are realy somebody after all; don’t you?
I just started reading Live What You Love (Blanchard); I’ve had it on my shelf for some time, and on my “To Read/Buy” list for even longer, but I’m only now getting around to reading it.
I love this book; I loved this book before I even got to the Introduction. I wanted to share the whole opening, but figure I’ll just settle for bits and pieces:
We’re all very, very busy… each more important, more urgent than the last. But every now and then, we get a signal: life should be more satisfying.…
So when exactly did you stop wishing? When did you start doing the things you had to do instead of the things you wanted to do?
When did your dreams get buried under the responsibilities of adulthood? …
Wouldn’t it be awful to live your whole life and then say, “Wait! I need another chance. I just wanted to try this one thing.”
(emphasis mine)
I think when people hear stuff like that they fall into one of three categories:
The Realist: Who believes that that sounds nice but life never works out that way and frankly, we all need to look at life realistically. They honestly don’t believe there’s anything else to life than the day-to-day rat race and think it’s irresponsible for anyone to risk security for pie in the sky dreams.
The Wisher: Who hears someone’s success story and longs to try for themselves; this kind of thing stirs up a longing in them, but they still hold back. They wish for something more, but they suspect that the realist will be right in the end and they therefore really struggle to take the leap.
The Dreamer: Who truly believes that life is meant to be enjoyed and that it can, in fact, be satisfying, and they are willing to take risks to see their dreams come true. Stories of other people’s success sets them on fire and inspire them to reach for their own stars - even if it takes time.
Or, maybe we don’t automatically fall into those categories, maybe we sometimes fall in between them depending where we are in our life journey. I know it’s taking us some time to shake the belief systems of the realist in our house, but we are so determined that life should be satisfying that we are fighting it tooth and nail.
So far, reading this book is exciting me and stirring me up to see change happen in our lives. I’ll let you know what I think of it when I’ve read more, possibly after chapter two?
