Timelines

I play out situations over and over again in my brain.  Situations from two minutes ago.  Situations from two years ago. Longer even.

In these plays, I rewrite a line or two and it changes everything.  A different word. A different action.  A different intention.  And then a new timeline is built.

In some timelines, I walk away before we even begin.  In other timelines, a baby is born, a wedding is planned, a bad breakup is less bad, and a sour relationship never went sour at all.

Unfortunately life doesn't come with a rewind button.  And, if it did, there infinite numbers of possibilities and outcomes that are unpredictable.  Plus, even if multiple timelines exist in me, there's no breaking out of this one. Parallel universes are just science fiction mumbo jumbo. Right?

In rare moments, something happens to me and I find myself replaying without changing my words.  It's the same scenario over and over again.  In those instances, I realize I don't need an alternate ending; what transpired is all that need occur.  Whatever could have been different is no longer, or never was, in my control.

My hope for my life, and for the lives of those I love and cherish, is that these multifaceted endings die out.  I want to be secure in my decisions, unwaivering, unwilling to second guess my motivations or emotional state. My wish is that all these parallel timelines fade away into the layers of ourselves where healing has already begun.

Let us not rewind. Let us simply play out.

Just let it go

Just let it go.

Ever heard that?  Ever notice how hard that can be?  I think it actually may be hardest part of healing.  

We all have to do it.  It's good for us to stop clutching these imperfect expectations of what we wanted our lives to be.  It makes us more productive with our days because the weight of all those unrealized expectations no longer drag us down.  We probably sleep better at night having accepted that our lives have been altered from "the plan" and it's ok.  And you know, that final act of letting go can sometimes soothe our hearts when they have been battered or bruised or worse --- broken.  

Sometimes it's a simple thing like letting go of an idea that we'll always love our job or that we should always argue when we're right. Other times I think it's hard to workout just exactly what it is that's holding us back at all.  

We have these things, these expectations deeply rooted in our families and values.  When we let go, have we rejected those who love us most?  Can they handle our decisions to make peace with ourselves?  Because maybe, just maybe, we could let go of these things if everyone else could let them go too.  

Then I think we wonder - when is letting go really giving up?  Isn't it important to follow our hearts, our dreams, our passions?  It's always occurred to me that the line between the two is thin and very feint.  So what's the difference?

For me, the difference is emotional.  When we let go of heartache, confusion, stress, and the shame of unrealized dreams, it's like calling a time out. It becomes a moment to look at our options and redirect our strategy.  It gives us a chance to take a breather and get our heads back in the game.

By contrast, giving up simply means it's over.  It's a defiance towards growing or learning.  It's an opposition to being flexible about what our dreams were and what they could be now.  It's resigning ourselves to this idea that happiness isn't an option any longer.  Frankly, it sucks.

We've all found ourselves stuck somewhere in the middle, I think.  We give up because we are afraid to let go.  We define ourselves by what we wanted to be and not by what we are.

We shouldn't do that.  We should be open to possibilities and answers we never conceived of before.  

Let go.  Let go of the things that kept you down. Let go of the things that didn't work out.   Make room in your life for the things you don't want to give up on. Your bruised or battered or broken heart will thank you.

The balance of fear

Perhaps the quintessential question of humanity is "what are you so afraid of?"  Everyone asks it.  Everyone receives it.  I can't think of anyone who likes to answer it.

Fear is so complicated.   Sometimes it's easy to put on a brave face; other times, we're lucky just to get out of bed.  It can simultaneously paralyze and kickstart us into action.  It holds us back, it pulls us forward, or it allows us to hang lifeless in stasis.  I don't think anyone reacts to fear consistently, because there external factors that weigh on us: how we feel about ourselves, how we feel about our loved ones, how we feel about people who might not even exist.  Sometimes the factors aren't people at all but instead money, risk, inadequacy, friendship, vulnerability - and sometimes we couldn't identify the factors no matter how hard or carefully we try.

I don't know what today's message is.  I've just been personally wondering what makes us react so differently in similar moments of our lives.  Why did a new job opportunity at 25 scare me so much?  Why does it scare other 25 year olds?  Why doesn't it scare me now?

Why wasn't I afraid in relationships from the past, but in the future I see I should have be?  Why does some of that linger, spilling over into the new ones that come to me?  How much space do I let fear take up in my head or my heart?  How much effort do I spend to let my guard down?  How much energy do I spent, alternatively, to keep it up?

I'm afraid of a lot of things.

Afraid to disappoint; afraid to be disappointed.

Afraid to fall in love only to have a broken heart; afraid to guard my heart from breaking so that I never fall in love.

Afraid of asking for what I need for fear (see what I did there) I wont get it; afraid of becoming someone who can never give anyone what (s)he needs.

Afraid of never having the family I so long for; afraid of having the family I so long for.

Today these things seem less scary, but tomorrow I could wake up with a whole new twist on something to fear.  All I can do is adjust.  All I can do is make the right decisions in the moment - and fret about whether it was the right one at all.

We all have fears.  We all have things that keep us up at night.  All the stupid adages about getting over our fears and doing it anyway --- I don't know what the point of those really are, except perhaps to give us something else to worry about.

Maybe all we can do is just navigate through this life letting today be scarier than tomorrow, or the other way around.  Maybe instead of trying to fight it, we support each other when someone admits that fear is part of their lives.  Or maybe, the only way to deal with fear is to just simply pretend.

When people do you wrong

In the last few weeks, it seems a few friends and I have found ourselves being tested - our patience, our love, and our capability to forgive.  It's become like some sort of surprise exam you didn't know you needed to study for.  The only question printed on the top is "why do you, [insert person of choice], have to make this about you?"

Why do they, indeed?

It seems to me that so many of our friends, our families, our coworkers, our churchgoers, our neighbors, our book club partners --- they have agendas.  Sometimes it's innocuous.  Sometimes I'm not sure they even know it.  And sometimes, it's at the forefront of all things they do or say.

We all have our shit.  We all have these experiences and memories, bad juju or karma, things that paint and cloud our judgment.  There are things we feel self conscious about, things that never go away, no matter how much work we do to make it so.  In one moment, that little bit of confidence we hold so dearly onto can be washed out by these people who are supposed to love us unconditionally.

A friend, who likely means well, can shatter even the smallest glimmer of hope that somebody out there can understand your reaction to something.

A father can latch onto the things you feel the most insecure about, and turn it back on you.  As if, you know, you needed his reminder.  As if, in fact, you didn't already know it on your own.

A boyfriend, a man who is meant to support you, understand you, and value you, asks you a question so deeply unfair that there is no alternate choice but throw up your walls, a decision you will no doubt, hear about again and again.

So why is it that these people you are supposed to love and trust, the people who are filling all of the archetypal relationship roles in your life, can so systemically break you?  And why do the other people around us offer up sayings like:

You can't change people.
You're offense collecting.
Don't take everything so personally.
Your reaction is wrong.
You are overreacting.

I think we ought to be allowed to be scared of our demons, even if everyone else doesn't understand.  I think we ought to feel safe being ourselves, expressing our opinions, our grievances, and our insecurities to those who proclaim they love us.  And we ought to find validation when we are so utterly disappointed by these reactions that break us down.

As there always is, I find myself rolling a lyric around and around inside my brain lately.  A sweet indie Lilith Fair artist sang her heart out about what it feels like to find your own way, only to find that those around you are disappointed in who you have become.  Even my fourteen year old heart was pulled when I heard it, though I didn't know how much of a reality it would become in my thirties.  Her sad and sweet words, grasping for answers read:

There's just one thing I need to get a handle on; 

People can love you, and still do you wrong.

So how do you get a handle on it?  Where is the reconciliation of asking to be loved in your way, and accepting the best love someone is capable of providing?  Where is the line between forgiveness and protection drawn?  When do we get to decide that these people who love us are unable, incapable, or unwilling to give us what we need?  And when we do decide, why does it take us so long to feel good about it?

This is a world full of exams we didn't know to study for.  I challenge you, as the people you love, as the people who love you come to you, don't try to rationalize why you should talk them out of something.

It's hard to be vulnerable and ask for help; so when your loved ones push you, pull them back.  Open your arms and hug them.  Open your heart.  Nothing replaces the need for safety like finding it.  

Insert semisonic lyric here

I'm thinking of the semisonic song with the lyric "every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."

And I think - sure, it's 2014 now and that's a new beginning.  But it's so much more than that for me.

It's new confidence. It's new job titles.  It's new potential opportunities.  It new furniture arrangements and windows.  It's a new body image, a new hair style, a new life.  It's new relationships and all the risk, and fear, and potential that brings.

It's fitting to remember that new beginnings come from another's end when the year changes and we blow noise makers and toast champagne.  But it's also fitting to remember change is happening all around is, and it's always in us.  The calendar doesn't have to shift to celebrate a new beginning.

Happy new year to my friends, family, loves who are lost in the past, and those loves I may find in the future.  

May you find a new beginning whenever and wherever you seek it.

Questions: #45, #49, #50

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

I am on vacation right now, and I decided, after fretting and dwelling about how this remains unfinished, that it's time to close the loop.  I will be honest - I haven't really thought about the answers to these questions, and so, I write the answers tonight.

For some reason, I accidentally skipped #45;  I will start with the answer to that one.

Question #45: If we learn from our mistakes, why are we always so afraid to make a mistake?

I think about this one all the time, even before this blog series started.  I don't think we can pin this down into one clean or clear answer. There are layers upon layers of reasons, and I imagine individuals and families will have none, some, or all of these --- or maybe many I didn't even think about.  I can't tackle all the reasons, but I'll tackle why this is the case for me.

The first reason I am so scared to make a mistake is because I have some sort of ego-maniacal vision of myself centered around the idea that I'm "better".  It's not that I'm better than other people, not of you, not of my friends or my family - but better than myself.  I am better than mistakes.

The second reason I am so scared to make a mistake is because mistakes often require fixing - and fixing often requires me to ask for help.  We're all intimately aware that asking people for help, especially from people who matter to me, is something I can't stand doing.  To do so means I must admit I'm not enough - smart enough, fast enough, smooth enough, detailed enough - to do something on my own.

And the third reason I am so scared to make a mistake is because mistakes often hurt people.  Happy accidents like pink and blond hair, or picking two unmatching socks are ok, but those aren't the mistakes I'm afraid of.  Instead it's big things like insensitive behavior, getting caught up in a moment inappropriately, picking the wrong boyfriend, or keeping secrets from someone I care about - those are all things I'm so exceptionally afraid of.

The third reason is the worst of all, and no matter how much I try, I realize that I will find myself inadvertently (or sometimes intentionally, though I hate to admit that) hurting the people I love so deeply for the rest of my life.  All I can hope is that I continue to consider their perspectives, and find a way to genuinely ask for forgiveness when it happens.

Question #49: In five years from now, will you remember what you did yesterday?  What about the day before that?  Or the day before that?

I will remember some days in 2013 in five years from now.  I'll remember Feb 26, my ACL surgery date, and all the subsequent help and love I received from friends, family, and Pepper.  I'll remember my mom's 60th birthday, and how all of my siblings came together as one cohesive unit to show her how much we love her.  I'll remember BeachBoy, who I met on my girls weekend - the guy who rocked my world and asked me some tough questions I never got to answer for him.  Though we are not in contact, that will remain a huge part of me, part of this blog series, part of these decisions I've made, and part of my history I can't possible forget.   I'll remember the time I went camping with TF and TresPageJr, and the other time TF and I went to my home at the base of the mountain to see a DP show. I know I'll remember the time I took my Unlikely Friend to the beach for her birthday (and WonderPup tried to eat someone!), and I'll certainly remember when the WonderPup was bitten by a foster.  And I'll remember another day in 2013, a day I met a fun and funny man, nicknamed forever more as Eros, at a little pub in Trolley Square.  What happens with that, who knows, but I think, for so many reasons, I'll remember that night in five years.  Maybe even ten.

But day in and day out stuff?  No, I won't remember it, and it won't matter.  Still, when I look back at this year, some pretty significant things happened.  Some things sucked hard, and some things were amazing - but much of it is noteworthy, even in the future.

Question #50: Decisions are being made right now.  The question is: are you making them for yourself, or are you letting others make them for you?

I let a lot of decisions get made for me this year - some at work, and some at home.  And then, I made a lot of decisions that were hard, scary, or just plain unfun.  Sometimes it's appropriate to decide to let people make your decisions, and other times it's not.  I want to believe I'm a good mix of both, and when it's time to make decisions that matter deeply to me, I will have to courage and support to do that.

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This wraps up the series.  I learned an awful lot in the process, even with my long hiatus.  I appreciate everyone's patience, support, and kinds words as I've written these crazy post, and hope that you have considered the answers to some of these questions for yourself.

Although this started as a random exercise, I found that it evolved into a self discovery about not just this year, but previous years of my life - it helped me think through my most tragic mistakes, the people and places that are important to me, and what types of things matter to me about my life.  Sharing that journey with you all has been a test of two years in therapy, a chance to share with you, to give you parts of myself that I have not shared before, and it's awfully fitting to wrap this up just 25 hours before 2014 begins.

Cheers, my friends.  Cheers!

Questions: the end

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

I know. I need finished the series. This post is to let everyone know (and remind myself!) that I need to and will complete it.

And on the heels of that, perhaps I ought to answer another question of my own:

Why do I start things and then stop them just before they are completed? Hmmm.