In order to turn, however, you first need to see that point where it makes sense to change direction (or your mind)
The moment you realize you're going the wrong way, are lost, or no longer feel like ravioli... That's when you make an alternate choice. That's the point. The point where decisions are made often quickly. Sometimes those decisions happen without much thought. They just 'feel right'.
The Universe has certainly allowed me a lot to think on. More than I am able to share. Not because it's a big fat secret, but because it requires far more organization of thought than I am willing to commit to right now. I am honest at the very least.
More importantly than the thoughts I can't articulate, are the ones that make sense to me to pour out now. Disclaimer: these thoughts may not make the same sense to you. I don't apologize. They're for me and to me, they are delicious and I shall happily snack on them.
Of many analogies for life, one that's often tossed about is the idea of a road map. Some people struggle to map their present and future while preserving their past in an effort to make the most beautifully photographic road trips through life. These are the planners. I'm not a planner, necessarily. The picture atlas that documents my journies thus far hardly looks put together a la Martha Stewart.
And I'm ok with that.
Despite not being a planner, I have often felt the need to act the part of one. I may not know what my life looks like 1 year down the road (forget about 5 or 10!), but I have refused to accept that it's ok to wander and be happy.
I have arrived at the intersection of Well Thought Out and Mysterious Adventure many times in my life only to get stuck in traffic and hung up on all of the 'shoulds' that cloud my mind.
If you don't know this about me, I am very fussy about time. It's a quirk. I hate to make people wait for me. But I will wait forever for someone else. If we're late for that party we're heading to and it's not my fault personally? I'm completely ok with being late. You can feel free to take your time and fix your makeup one last time. I will wait. Happily. But you will not wait for me. You should never have to.
Because of this, I obsess over time. If I am driving, I will get us there ... ON TIME. If I am leading or arranging something, it must happen ON TIME. (GST just hasn't really worked it's way into my life well enough I suppose)... If a set time isn't needed for the rest of the crowd, but I have committed to do something at a flexible time - I obsess over being ready at the drop of a hat and struggle to enjoy myself until the 'time' has come.
Also, I am not the best at making decisions. Mostly because I think far too much about something as simple as 'do I want beef or chicken' that I fear I am holding the rest of the world up while they wait for me to decide that I feel uncomfortable making such an easy decision.
There. Now you know my neurosis.
This makes for interesting road trips. My poor (lovely) traveling companions to Harvest and back. I hated not knowing confidently well in advance where to turn next, what time we should eat and when it was best to stop. Oh, and I was the driver for most of the journey. I did my best to not let on how stressed it made me to make such decisions. I didn't always succeed.
The last several days, I have felt tested in many ways regarding these irritating quirks. But there was a turning point. A moment when the obsessions no longer immobilized me mentally. Eventually, I think I'll come down from the change of direction and have a good releasing cry... but for now, I'm pleasantly ok.
From losing my iPhone to travel misadventures to relying on friends who I would have once upon a time been less inclined to reach out to, I feel as though I'm looking once again at that intersection of Well Thought Out and Mysterious Adventure, only this time I'm confident that the way of the Mysterious Adventure will be the most satisfying in the end.
Just when I was sure my reserve of cheerfulness was all used up, I found more. I think I like this street more than I ever knew that I would.
No comments:
Post a Comment