“So what are you going to do about it?”
I don’t know at what point I just became a complainer. Realizing I was a complainer? That I could identify. It was about my fifth coffee date with the same friend when I realized I was talking about the same thing I talked about five times ago. Same situation, same advice, several months apart, nothing changing.
Many words exchanged. Thoughts dissected. Good intentions had. Same frustration. Around and around we go.
Beating. A. Dead. Horse.
They say that’s the definition of insanity, right? To do the same thing over and over and expect different results? Being the thinker I am, it took me a minute to realize the key word in that phrase. It’s a sneaky little one: do. If you aren’t going to take a long hard look at your actions (which, by the way, are the only actions you can control in any given situation), you’re barking up the wrong tree.
Okay, self, geez.
Ah, making a move. If only it were that easy. Which way do I go? To the left, where nothing’s right? Or to the right, where nothing’s left? Insert fears here. I think I’ll just stay in this place that I think is comfortable, which is actually uncomfortable, but seems more comfortable than any action of any sort.
Until it’s not. Until those thoughts you have during the day become the thoughts keeping you up at night. You toss and turn, your mind running wild in the worst way, until you wake never remembering having slept — groggy, unrested, wishing you could throw the covers back on your life. Avoid decisions. Avoid action. Do what I’ve always done. That’s what works right? OH WAIT, THIS IS NOT WORKING.
Not today, Satan. Today I got out of my bed and made it. Today I decided to make a choice to let go of the drama caused by my inaction and move in the only direction that makes sense. AKA, not the direction I was moving in. I’m solving for X with the numbers I do have, not the ones I don’t.
I could not tell you the direction I am heading in now. It’s uncharted, unfamiliar. There are no markers here by which to identify it. I can tell you that it is not the direction I was heading. It’s not backwards. It’s not necessarily safe. It’s not what I expected. It’s not easy, by any means. But it’s infinitely more peaceful. It requires a lot more faith. It feels a whole lot like forward.