“Sometimes you have to do what’s best for you and your life, now what’s best for everybody else.”
This is on my mind, tonight.
Well, to be honest. Not just tonight, but a lot recently.
There is more change afoot, or at least a cross-road to be considered. And it seems that whenever this is the case, writing is what I must do. I seem to do best when I think with key strokes. The tappet tap puts order to the discomfort of unrest, helps me find a path to calm the sea of uncertainty.
They say we should trust our heart (or our gut-depends on how you feel it). But I find this so hard to do. Whatever message my heart is sending, it never seems to speak a language I can completely understand. The path is always grey and muddied. I feel the tug and pull of two directions, and in both I see different kinds of challenge and contentment. I find apple reason to take each path. And no absolute reason to choose one over the other. It’s so bloody frustrating.
This time, I’m doing something different. I’m trying really hard to take the people out of it, to ask myself what is best for me. What is it that I want. I’m not very good at thinking this way. Most of my life I’ve been guided by expectation. Funny that, isn’t it, expectation, and how it has a way of seeming crystal clear.
But of course it’s not, of course we shouldn’t presume to assume what others think she we do, or want us to do. But we do, don’t we? And what a tongue twister that is all around. Assumptions, presumptions, expectations, motivations, sensations. All of these nothing but vague representations of what we believe to be real. And certainly none of it for certain. Yep. Read that 10 times.
Maybe it’s easier to make decisions based on what we think to be the needs of others, because it allows us to avoid the discomfort of doing our deep thinking. If we can blame it on someone else, it is a whole lot easier to leap. Because if we do it for ourself, we have no one to blame. And that just sucks.
How can one know which path is right, and which decision will lead to the next bit of happiness.
It has been a long, long time since I’ve felt my path to be absolutely clear. In fact, I don’t think I really have since the haze of adolescence. Isn’t that funny. The very time when we are conceivably open to being the most misguided or misdirected is, or at least was for me, the time that pointed in the most decisive directions.
It’s because with age you realize your decisions can lead to uncomfortable impact, impacts that are not so easy to recover from and that affect more than just oneself. A career—for example—may offer limitless potential and opportunity for happiness and opportunity, but at the same time, as a job they feed our families, pay the bills and help make dreams come true for more than just ourselves. As I grow older this becomes painfully more obvious. And extremely frightening. The truth is I cannot sit idly and indulge every intention. There is just more to lose than ever before.
And so it is harder to leap. To have faith. To be sure that, at the end of the day, it will all work out as it should.
There have been only a handful of occasions in my life when I’ve asked for spiritual help, and these were without a doubt the times I needed it most. In these moments, I can honestly say I just felt and understood what I had to do with certainty. Whoever is out there granting support, well he or she has come through when I needed it in spades. But I don’t want to abuse that gift. I want to sometimes be able to feel a sense of direction for myself.
And so here I am. Writing it out, and yet being purposefully vague. By putting in black and white, letting the key strokes wander where they must go, I start the work of sweeping away some of the cobwebs.