"I'm bat shit insane." (Thoughts are things, la la la-fingers in ears- I'm declaring crazy. Maybe a few Xanax, midday cartoon watching and a padded room would do me good.)
A couple weeks ago I lamented to a fellow blogger over the demise of my sanity, whilst clinging to any shred of hope that maybe- just maybe, I could reclaim my future, sans straight jacket.
"I'm gonna start a business....." I pounded at the keyboard with the gusto of the Reese Witherspoon's character in Election- It'll be successful (whatever it is) and maybe I'll go back to school, and I'll be making millions, and maybe I'll write a book about my business, and maybe I'll dress "business casual," and. and. annnnnd- maybe I'll do "consulting," then maybe I'll hire employees and take day trips for meetings on the 40th floor of a high rise, and I'll stand in elevators in big cities all over the country, breathing in other's people successful air while we wait for that, "ding!" of our floor to alert us to go be all "successful and decisive and buzz wordy."
HI, can someone please tell me to 'lay off the bong Bob Marley.' Thanks. All of these maybe scenarios are NOT. MY. MAYBE.
When your whole life sort of "rearranges" -I would say you could interchange that with the word "crumbles" but, I'm being optimistic and crumbling sounds too ruiny, my life isn't quite Rome yet, I'm not that dramatic. -When things "rearrange" you start welcoming a lot of "maybes" in your life that weren't there before, because really you're considering the possibility that MAYBE you missed the boat that housed your "life's purpose" and you're MAYBE the greatest ad executive, or exterminator, or entrepreneur, or fucking Jiu Jitsu master that's ever lived- but maybe at one point in your life you had to choose between door #1 and door #2- behind one door you'd come across struggles, but they'd all ultimately strengthen your character and form the perfectly unique life you were destined to live- behind the other door, you go through a series of unsatisfying jobs, you get a Staph infection from taking your kid to the ball pit at Chuck-E-Cheese and your husband cheats on you with a girl named Candy, who dries snakeskin in her fridge to make belts.
Door #1, or Door #2- do you ever feel like maybe you chose door #2?
When you start to reevaluate all the things that have made up your "story"- the things that make you tick, the goals, the skills that are just innately a part of you- you can find yourself so far in a rabbit hole, that not only, doesn't have the answer you're looking for, but also, ultimately- leaves you doubting all of the things you know are CERTAIN about yourself.
Anytime we start looking at other peoples lives as models for our own and saying, "maybe I should be doing what they're doing..." we may open up or minds, or generate inspiration, which is good- IT'S GOOD TO THINK OUTSIDE THE BOX, as long as you don't forget what's already inside the box you HAVE- if the reason for wanting THEY have, is actually because you don't know how to have what YOU want... you'll only get fuzzy images of what "happiness" means to you- because you're comparing it to what happiness means for someone else. When the "maybe I should...." is so far off of the things you KNOW, maybe what we really should be doing is settling into the fact that maybe you should just let it be for a bit, until all the maybes aren't a question, but they're that steadfast, BREATH OF AIR- the "yes" that breathes a sigh and a weight from your shoulders. The energy that opens the door and knows, without a doubt that it was Door #1....and that everything that lies behind it is in it's right place.
There are a few things that I know for CERTAIN that any job I have from here on out doesn't involve excessive color coding, or intense math- I know for certain that I can come up with a killer idea, but I'll probably hate the idea within 48 hours and have an equally killer idea to follow up with it-I know for certain I'll never be a chef and I have terrible knife skills, I cant stand the sight of wet food and I'm not sure how to pick out a good cantaloupe? I know for CERTAIN that I like to inspire people with words, whether I'm singing them, writing them, or teaching them in a class- I know for certain that I shine brightest when I get to hold court and that I'm the most comfortable when I'm the center of attention- I know for certain this is something I see as a part of (or AS) my job at some point- in which capacity, I don't know yet. I also know for certain that I hate wearing the color mauve. And that three months without sex is simply too long. FACT.
I know for CERTAIN that I'm happiest surrounded by joyful, thriving and motivated people. I know for certain the next job I have will read my blog, love me in spite of it and will be progressive, stimulating, and unique. I know for certain I can't budget to save my life and that my eyes glaze over when someone says the word "stock." I know for certain that I'll never, ever care about the animals as much as I should, and that if I'm supposed to wear my contacts for two weeks, I'll likely wear them for seven. And a half.
I know for certain that maybe all I should REALLY do is continue harvesting and praising and loving all of the bits about me that even if no one else sees them, I KNOW are fucking remarkable....and that all in time, those "bits" will/do come to the surface and the eyes, opportunities and places that matter, laying behind your Door #1 will see them, in all their splendor.
WHAT DO YOU KNOW FOR CERTAIN???