Life has a funny way of motivating and inspiring; most times, only if you’re still enough, will you hear the message. If you can come away enough from yourself, in all your fears and anxieties, all of your pride and your beliefs, all of your pain and – ironically – your questions, you will find the answers. I’m discovering more and more that it’s about letting go and trusting the process, having faith that the path is indeed leading you out of the dark. Many times, or perhaps even all the time, compassion and forgiveness is the quicker route to not only outer peace, but inner as well.
Lately, I’ve been asking a question of social equilibrium: what is the best way to go about honoring oneself by speaking the truth and yet somehow still keeping the peace, when the truth is bound to do some damage? When you’re biting your tongue hard enough to draw blood, just to avoid a conflict, yet you feel that something should be said, how do you stop hurting yourself without hurting someone else? In times when you feel as if one word spoken will lead to an inevitable eruption of thoughts, feelings and truths that have been bottled up too long, what is the next step? The pressure builds and builds to the point where you know the force behind that one uttered remark could lead to something quite possibly catastrophic, yet you feel it’s bound to happen eventually. For days, I’ve been trying to ease the pressure of a volcano that’s ready to spew hot lava. It wants to erupt. It needs to. But if that happens, it’s going to burn some people.
I’ve had some difficulties at work this week. My hours (which were few to begin) were cut, unexpectedly and, I felt, unfairly. I responded to this abrupt and unfortunate notice with rage – hot, fiery, teary rage that burned through my chest and shoulders, coursing all through my boiling blood, making my legs feel like gummy sticks of taffy. I kept my reaction mostly to myself, although I still handled the situation poorly by letting my ego speak for me. I later started to regret some of the things I said and the way I behaved, although I still haven’t even said the half of it. I’ve decided to be forgiving and understanding about what happened, yet my problem has still not been resolved and at the moment, there is no clear solution. Almost immediately after receiving the news, I knew it was all happening for the higher good, yet the uncertainty and the feelings of powerlessness and even betrayal seemed greater than that inner knowing, and they took over. Days later, I’m more at peace with the situation, yet I’m still not sure what I’m supposed to do next. There are still unsaid thoughts that I’ve been holding back for a long time. Do they really need to be said? And if so, how should they be delivered?
This challenging situation is certainly pushing me in the direction that I want to go, that is one thing I am sure of. I don’t want to be a bartender for the rest of my life, and I have been slowly, steadily toiling away at my long-held dream. I suppose this is meant to be a nudge to get me moving at a better pace. However, I’m still faltering at my next course of action. I have a few options to weigh and some heavy decisions to make, which is all stirring up my anxiety. There is that deep, lingering lack of self-belief that I still haven’t kicked. Hello again, Doubt, my old friend. I see you still haven’t gone and fucked yourself, yet. Maybe I should be nicer to you.
There is so much oscillation and unpredictability within me at the moment, that my head is starting to spin. The oddest feeling of all, however, is this sense of comfort in the discomfort. The unfamiliarity and the uncertainty of something new can be nothing short of terrifying at times, and yet I’m wise enough to know that where there is discomfort, there is change. By this stage in my life, I’ve learned well enough that change is nothing to be feared and more often than not, when allowed, it can lead to beautiful things. And right now, that’s about all I know.