Jumbled

My brain feels like the junk drawer we all have in our kitchens. There are a multitude of interesting and silly and misplaced and memorable things jumbled up in there, but I can't get a single idea untangled from the rest to examine it and write a proper post about it.

I want to pull each of them out, one by one, and let you hold them while I tell you the stories of how they came to be but I don't know that I'm ready. Just know that many wonderful things are happening, beautiful people are in my life and all is good. 

For the first time in... five years, maybe?... I feel something deep within that is letting me know that I am just where I need to be, doing exactly what I should be doing. I know without a doubt that things are going to turn out better than I've even dreamed. For the first time in my life, I can say the words, "I am enough," and not only mean them but own them. 

I feel like me again. 

It is all very good. 

Last One Standing

The reason I started the New Endings website was to capture this part of my life, in which I feel poised to make some significant changes. I have dreams and goals that haunt me day and night and I am desperately trying to determine what steps I need to take next in order to realize them. I have had the tough discussions with myself about what I am willing to do, how much I am willing to sacrifice, to what extent I am willing to go and I feel like I am on the verge of something pretty wonderful.

Except.

I am still at the starting gate. I have magnificent sketches of the future in my mind but no concrete foundations yet on which to build it. Last year, I identified two things I considered to be obstacles to reaching my goals and I have been working diligently on them. I am proud of the work I have done and can honestly say that I do not feel either is a roadblock any longer. Can I still improve? Yes, but nothing feels like it is standing in my way. Progress!

Except. 

I am still here. The way is clear but I have not yet moved forward. I have been frustrated and fretting over this for months. I waffle between 'I'll know when it is the right time' and 'Nothing is ever going to change.' I have been looking at opportunities, pursuing options, knocking on doors but I do not seem to be making the strides I want to be. It is clear that there must be one obstacle left.

So I have done what I probably should have done months ago (but maybe it was not the right time?) and have enrolled in a course with a life coach. The entire course is four eight-week sessions and the first starts in September. I am really looking forward to it. Some of you might think this is silly or misguided and that is your opinion to have. For me, I think this could be exactly what I need. It is not because I need someone else to say my feelings are valid, my goals are attainable, that I am worthy of what I work diligently to obtain because I have a multitude of loved ones who will do that for me. I am more interested in learning how and why I am standing in my own way. 

I am the last obstacle.

Living In Mudville

I am not enjoying life. 

That was a hard sentence to write and an even harder thing to realize but it is true. My days are chaotic, stressful and unrewarding, full of conflict and anger. My nights are solitary, emotional and restless. My weekends are a blur of sleep-deprived furious energy moving towards targets: writing x number of words, exercising x number of minutes, cleaning out x number of items… all which are supposed to bring me a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment but only just leave me exhausted.

I need joy.

It was not that long ago that the majority of my days were happy ones. Dark moments would pass through but overall, I was a joyful person. I can no longer say that. I feel like every day is something to endure, to get through, not something to rejoice in and celebrate. This is not the way I want to live. 

I sat down the other day and wrote about what an enjoyable day for me would be like. I was not interested in a ‘shucking it all and lying on a beach’ kind of day, I wanted to figure out what it would take to change the days I am living now into days that I want to be living: a new normal day. What I came up with was not too shocking. I found I need more fulfillment and purpose in my career, and I want to easily find time for the other things that matter, writing, running, spending time with the people I love. The isolation I feel at work and being alone outside work is wearing on me even more than I knew. I wake with an overwhelming sense of dread every day.

Before anyone fears for my mental health or well-being, I am looking at this realization as a positive thing. I have not been in this state of mind for long so I have every hope that I can turn it around in short order. Facing an issue is the first step in conquering it, and I fully intend to conquer this one.  

This is going to be my summer of joy. I am going to identify and work toward adding more light and relaxation and reenergizing activities and spending more time doing the things that matter, with the people that matter. It is obvious to me that things need to change. This is just my declaration that they will. 

Stepping Stones

Sometimes traveling through life appears to me as crossing a river. I am on one bank of the river, watching the water flow by, and I know I need to get to the other side. Some days I want to go, some days I question it, but I know that is the direction I must travel. The bank I am on is fine, resplendent with trees of security, flowers of familiarity and the green grass of status quo. It is fine. Only fine.

I can barely see the other side of the river but I just know it is lush. I have heard stories about the majestic mountains of purpose, lakes of adventure and amazing waterfalls of joy. I want to see it. I have to cross the river.

Ah, crossing the river... that risky period of time in which I will no longer be safely on one bank or the other. 

If I give into temptation and look back as I am crossing, I could lose my footing and fall in the river. The current may carry me so far away that I never reach that part of the bank that I was trying for and I would never be able to go back to the bank I knew. These are the risks. My instinct tells me to keep my eye on the far shore, focused and honed in, but I know I will be tempted to turn for one last look at what I am leaving.

The safest and most sure route seems to be a direct one, on a solid footbridge that crosses the river where it is most narrow and the water runs most calmly. I have searched out that footbridge for months. I do not believe it exists, if it ever did.

What I have found are stepping stones, slippery and precarious, barely visible beneath the water flowing over them. I have attempted a few times to cross but every time I get a few feet across, I cannot find the next stone in the path and have to return the way I came. I am getting frustrated and weary. All I want is to cross that river and get to the other bank. I do not mind getting wet. I do not mind it taking longer than I thought it would.

I just want to cross.

Glimpses Through the Window

I was sitting at my desk, staring out into the sunlit backyard, when I had a vision of another life. It was as though it was playing on a hidden screen hanging from the trees and I was watching it like I would a film. I could see me, with time enough in my day for writing, running, friends and love. I saw myself pursuing a career that brought me great fulfillment and a sense of purpose. I was smiling as if my heart contained nothing but joy.

I closed my eyes for only a moment and the vision disappeared. 

Part of me ached to run into the backyard and find the vision, jump into the screen and be transported to that life. Part of me, the part that closed my eyes and caused it to disappear, hung back, afraid to get too close.

What is it about us that causes us to cling to that which is familiar even if we can see that by letting go, trying something new, pursuing our dreams, we may be so much happier? 

Why did I close my eyes?

I No Longer See It

From the time I was very young, I have always lived in two worlds, the one here with the rest of you and the one I had built inside my head. The world inside changed over the years, as I grew and matured and experienced new things, but one thing was constant. There was always a hallway with a door at the end and I would sneak down that hallway from time to time and kneel at that door to peek through the keyhole. What I saw inside was my future.

I have always had a vision of my future, I suppose because I have always had goals and dreams and some idea of the direction I wanted to take. I do not remember what was behind that door when I was very young, probably something to do with living amongst hundreds of kittens and ponies or something. From my teenaged years, behind that door was a life in the city. If you could squeeze in my mind with me, I would give you a tour of my apartment with the exposed brick walls and the loft bedroom and the wide plank floors, the color of dark golden honey. It is as clear to me as the room I am sitting in. 

In my thirties, that apartment morphed into a stone cottage on a mountain, overlooking a lake. Again, every detail of that home is imprinted on my mind, from the butterscotch leather comfy chair in the corner of the cozy living room to the little purple wildflowers growing by the door and the towering evergreen pines all around. I could see myself at a large wooden desk in the den, drinking tea, watching the sunrise, and writing novels.

It was all so clear.

This weekend I stole down that hallway in my mind to take a peek through the keyhole in that door again. I looked but I could not see anything. I pulled back, cleaned my glasses and tried again. I squinted. There was nothing to see.

I have been analyzing that now for hours on end. What does it mean? Where did my future go? If I try really hard, the farthest I can see into the future is maybe... Thursday. Why? What happened?

Is it because I have not one goal now but many? Is it because each dream I hold for myself is independent yet intertwined with the others so that any of them could come true on their own or together as one and that leaves my future just too unpredictable? 

I do not know. 

I refuse to believe that because I did not see anything that means there is nothing there. Instead, I want to believe that there is a dark, thick, velvet curtain hanging over the inside of the door obstructing my view. If I were to kneel at the door again and put my ear, rather than my eye, to the keyhole, maybe I would hear movement, construction noises perhaps, meaning my future is being built even as I think about it.

But I did not put my ear to the door and listen. Instead I turned away from the door and left. I guess I am not yet ready to know.

Contest 1: Get Moving -- Winner!

We did a great job on our quest to Get Moving in March! I am proud of each of us for recognizing the importance of exercise and actually doing something about it. Go Us!

Even though our healthier attitudes should be reward enough, I did promise one of you a prize. So I went back over your four weeks of comments and entered your name on a spreadsheet once for completing three 20-minute exercise sessions in a week, and an additional time for every time over the three sessions. It was so great to see the spreadsheet fill up as quickly as it did.

When I got done with that, I went to Random.org and entered the range for it to select a number and clicked Submit. The number it generated for me was:  9!

And on line nine of the spreadsheet was none other than our blogging buddy, Alissa of Life's Little Adventures and Life's Little Adventures {Photos Only} !!

Congratulations, Alissa! Just let me know if you would prefer a $50 gift card to Amazon or iTunes and I'll email it right away.

Thanks, Everyone, for participating and being so supportive. I hope April finds you moving even more often!

Have a wonderful holiday weekend!