This morning I was sitting in Starbucks reading the daily lesson from the Mondo Beyondo Dream Lab, and I found myself crying. Right there, curled up with my beloved laptop, in a chair in front of the door where people were running in and out, tears coursed silently from my eyes and splashed heavily onto my cheeks.
The post, by Andrea Scher, discussed two kinds of quitting. The sentiments she expressed in her piece cut to the quick, not because I’m at any real risk of quitting anything, but because I feel myself once again reaching the limits of my capacity to cope. The last couple of weeks I’ve been riding the edge of my emotions, so much is happening, while at the same time so much is not. I’ve been trying to focus on the tools I’ve learned—to slow down, ride it out, focus on the moment rather than becoming overwhelmed by what might come. While at the same time, there are small pockets of beauty, and real, intense knowing, knowing that I don’t have time to act on.
It’s not enough. My days are simply too full, and all the things I have to be doing seamlessly override all the things I should be doing. Before long, hours become days and weeks and it all overflows.
I call it creep, a fog that swirls and rolls along the edges of my mind, gently caressing and teasing. It folds in and out, searching for a crack, anything to let it drift in. It’s brings doubt, shame, sadness and guilt. In abundance. The really odd thing is that the fog seems very appealing, almost a cover to hide from it all.
In her piece, Andrea wrote about the notion of quitting as deep surrender:
There is a quitting that is like throwing your hands in the air, shouting I GIVE UP! and with passion only reserved for things we still deeply want, we say I am out of ideas.
This is how I feel when I say that my coping mechanisms aren’t working, because there is simply no time to use them. It’s spring, and a time when I should be feeling a fever pitch of energy and contentment, instead I’m held back by a growing frustration with the pace of my life.
I feel trapped by a way of living that isn’t working and I truly see no way out. It’s oppressive.
There is this little voice inside of me that keeps saying “Suck it up, push through, you can do it. Millions before you have, millions more will after you.” And I want to tell that voice to shut up. Why do I have to be like everything else? Why do I have to judge myself so? Even worse, I wonder why I can’t just do it. Why can’t I muster the energy? Why don’t I know what to do, and since I don’t how do I find the help I need to discover it?
This creep, it’s defeat. It’s knowing that I can’t dig deep and pull it off. I just can’t. Yes, I want to throw my hands in the air, and just give up.
So now what?