The Precipice of Change – May 2017

Admittedly, I am having growing pains.  Or maybe they are pangs.   

By definition, growing pains are in the muscles, not the joints.  That makes a lot of sense to me at this stage in my life.  My “muscles” are set in their ways, and stretching and embracing something different is making my soul feel the burn.

Alternatively, by definition, growing pangs are either emotional longing or a sharp, physical pain.  This too makes sense to me as I attempt to define what I am going through.  Either way, I think you get the gist of what I am talking about – tumult, difficult change, emotional havoc, and yes, even physical pain.   

It all started just after I turned forty.  I was feeling comfortable.  I didn’t hate forty like I hated thirty, so I was in a comfortable groove.  And then, in the blink of an eye, I was blind-sided and thrown off course.  It was so much more than a fork on my path.  Imagine walking along a peaceful trail that you had been down hundreds of times and having a line-backer hit you out of nowhere.  It really was that traumatic for me.  I was suddenly tumbling and falling into the unknown, smacking my head on every damn rock, plunging head-first into every pool of mud and muck, catching my breath only to have it kicked out of me over and over again, until I found myself bloodied and bruised in a pile at what I believed could only be the very bottom of the depths of despair.  When I was finally able to draw a breath, I realized I wasn’t dead, only to conclude that I wished I was.  Injured, broken, alone, lost and scared I undoubtedly was at a cross roads.  It seemed it would have been easier to just give up – close my eyes, harden my heart and simply wallow in my woes.  As I began to find focus in those early months of 2015, I began to realize that it was more than just a crossroad – not just a left or right choice.  This wasn’t just a bump in the road or a veer from the path. I had, in fact, tumbled into new territory.  I was either going to address my wounds, learn from my missteps and mistakes or I was going to allow the fall to cripple me. 

To be honest, I seriously contemplated the later.  On the surface, it certainly seemed the less traumatic option.  I mean, I had just gone through so much, I couldn’t imagine I could survive anything else, let alone recover and be stronger for it.  But fortunately, I was mistaken. 

Despite the things I’d survived in my life to date, this was different.  This wasn’t about trudging through and surviving an illness or healing from a devastating loss.  This was about me.  This went to the core of my existence and who I was. 

And so, there I was – in a surreal state, looking at myself and seeing only an unfamiliar empty shell of a person.  I didn’t know who I was.  I didn’t know what I wanted.  This has only happened to me a couple times in my life and if it has ever happened to you, you will understand how disorienting it is.  It seems impossible, but I could stand and stare into a mirror and not recognize the face looking back at me. 

But, I felt something; something just barely recognizable.  An ember down deep; deeper than I could almost fathom that was centering me and was just waiting for the fodder to burn brightly. 

That was enough to tantalize me and chide me for contemplating simply giving up.   And so began my journey of self-discovery.  As a side note:  I think it is easy to underestimate the spirit of our innate human resiliency and the instinctual energy within each of us that yearns to pull itself toward the light.

Along the way, I’ve learned some interesting things about myself.  I’ve acknowledged parts of me that I was probably unintentionally (intentionally) ignoring.  I also have been reacquainted with parts of me that I had forgotten about and been introduced to pieces of me that I didn’t know where there.

There has been a plethora of movement and change in me and my life.  I can most certainly tell you that self-discovery is not only work, but it is HARD work; the rewards of which have been fun, exciting, exasperating, frustrating, inspiring, and exhausting all rolled into the whirl-wind that has been the past year and a half. 

I started seeing a counselor and it was the best decision and money I’ve ever spent on myself.  I’m not sure why there continues to be such a stigma accompanying mental health and wellness.  Life can be challenging.  Relationships are challenging.  The world and society we live in today are different than that of even our parents.  It is an antiquated thought pattern that makes us believe that not only is preventative mental health and emotional care unnecessary, but only for the weak, dysfunctional, weird or injured.  That is simply ridiculous.  Our mental and emotional health play vital roles in our overall well-being.  I believe this ignorance is detrimentally effecting us individually and societally…but I digress. 

My point is, I feel better for the investment I made in myself.  Amongst many of the things that I learned about myself, I learned that I am pathologically responsible.  I take on the problems, guilt, bad behaviors and responsibilities of others as my own.  What a relief it has been to learn I only need to be responsible for myself and that I can say no, especially in defense of myself and my well-being, both physically and emotionally.  Ahhh!  This is just one an example of the many things I have learned and continue to learn about myself. 

One of the things that I come back to regularly in this process is that growth is change.  It only makes sense then, that I need to realign my thought processes and patterns as I change of that growth will be stunted and I will be forever stuck in a pattern that, while maybe comfortable, will really prevent me from embracing my true worth and reaching my full potential. 

A little over a year and a half later, I find myself in a very unfamiliar place.  I am all about tasks.  I took on the task of self-discovery and I happily jumped into the exercises because that felt good to me.  There was an outlined mission and I am good at following a plan.  So, I’ve happily rolled up my sleeves and jumped into the process with both feet. 

But now….now I find that I am at a different stage and I am once again disoriented.  I’ve been told by a trusted confidant, an energy therapist, a counselor, friends and even my husband that I on the precipice of something big.  Don’t get me wrong, I feel it too!  All my effort and work has been laying the foundation.  I am at the edge of the cliff loving this sensation of the unknown and new.  I feel the fresh breeze and tingle on my skin.  I’ve got a toe extended, ready to dip into the well of my soul.  Yet, I am still clinging to the familiar with a death grip as a crutch.  What is holding me back?  Why can’t I let go?  And, maybe the crux of it is how do I let go?   

Up next (hopefully)…..LETTING GO!