“I can do that,” she thought.
And as other thoughts began to churn in her mind – self-recriminations, doubts, fears – she made the decision then and there to follow only the quietest of them all.
And just like that, she was off on a new life-road from which she would never look back.
I am often torn.
Making decisions is usually difficult for me. (See Cutting the Cord.)
I don’t know if it is because I am a Libra or what, but I can always see the benefits of all sides to a decision, and it makes it very hard to choose.
I do not particularly enjoy this part of my personality, though I do appreciate my ability to see more than just one side.
I also think a large contributing factor is my fear of making a mistake. What if I screw up my whole life because I choose wrong?
Yikes. Pressure much?
The past few years, I have been realizing that even in the past when I have made decisions that I felt were “wrong,” later on, they turned out to be “right” in some way. Even through what seemed like a real mistake, something necessary came from the experience.
The black and white thinking that a choice could have that much power over my existence…not sure where that comes from. But I know that I cannot – no, I will not – live like that anymore.
In the last year, I have made it a goal to stress less around decision-making. To just make the best decision I can with the info I have at the time that I am making it and to then “let the chips fall where they may.”
Easier said than done, but I have made some headway.
When I find myself feeling “torn” over the different options I am deciding between, I just stop myself and gently but firmly make myself take the leap in one direction.
Sometimes it has been anxiety-producing. And sometimes, very liberating.
It is always better than staying stuck (and torn) between options.
What are some ways that you make decisions that you feel work well?
“I’m glad I am particular,” she said to no one in particular, giving herself one final look over in the mirror before going downstairs to join the others.
With a firm nod of approval at her reflection, she reached for her gloves, congratulating herself for having decided against wearing the new emerald green peacock and lace evening gown.
With a self-satisfied smile just barely gracing her lips, she set her face into its most attractive arrangement and started for the door and another successful evening.
“Allow me to recreate myself,” she said to no one in particular.
Then she realized that as she had never really let anyone get to know the real her, how’d they even be able to tell the difference?
Somehow, this realization took most of the excitement out of the whole idea.
In the end, she decided she might as well stay herself.
There is a life force within
It has seen me through
Black-pitched soul’s dark nights
Days so thick with despair
I could barely breathe or move
Sometimes it was so very close
If not for that push inside
To continue on this journey
The pull to end it could have won
But something in me wants to live
Memorize this:
You will never know me
I will be there (have nowhere else to go)
dutifully doing what is expected of me
Keep my part of the silent agreement we’re all in
Actually, I’ll go beyond all expectations
I will be beyond criticism, beyond reproach
The outer world will see that perfect picture you are so invested in
But you will never know me
You will not gain entrance to my inner spaces
Never have my attention in any meaningful way
My heart and soul are permanently shut to you
This, I choose, and it will forever be my choice
Remember this
I know I will
I have been thinking a lot lately about trusting life.
I have come to realize that I have been living, but not trusting, life.
What does that mean?
It means that when I was six, things occurred that were so traumatic that decisions were made on an unconscious level that 1) the world was not a safe place, 2) I could trust no one and nothing, and 3) life was not meant for me.
Fast forward through decades of living from the decisions of a wounded child who felt that what had happened was on some level her fault and who also thought that she carried responsibility for the whole world as she knew it.
What does that look like?
It is exhausting to live but not trust life. I am exhausted. I have been dragging my soul through all of these years, cheerleading myself every day to show up despite feeling on deep unconscious levels that life was not meant for me.
It has been a strange dichotomy: wanting to live so badly, to work so hard to have a happy and meaningful life, yet to have an equal and opposite drive in my telling me that life is just not for me. That I was not meant to be happy. To live “in spite of” not feeling as if I deserved a good life or even was a worthy or necessary part of the world.
I have loved life. Needed life. Wanted life. Fought life. Almost killed my own life. But I have not trusted life.
And not trusting life, it has been hard to trust myself. I mean, if you do not trust the very force that sustains you, what can you really trust anyway?
I did, indeed, survive. Miraculous, indeed, because when you live from unconscious wound-influenced decisions from a child’s psyche, you tend to make some very, very poor and unhealthy choices.
I look back at all of the choices I made from those 6 year old’s decisions today, and I am truly in awe. I used to be embarrassed, ashamed even, at how poorly I have managed for some times in my life. But today, I am astounded at my resilience and my ability to bring myself through it all. I survived, and I live to write this.
But I have not yet truly thrived.
I have healed so much. But here I am, having cleared away so much wounding, seeing these decisions that were made about life and my place in it, and I am exhausted.
And it is time. Time to finally trust life.
I have blamed Life for what happened to me when I was six. Life and God. But mainly Life. And I understand why. The pain and shock of what happened was just overwhelming to me at 6. I just could not trust after that.
One of my favorite lines from a play is from Other Desert Cities by Jon Robin Baitz. “Most people don’t have to make a step-by-step decision to stay alive, most people just basically want to live. I am not one of those people.”
I have always deeply identified with that. It has taken me work each day to push through the energies around those early decisions to find the strength, courage and hope to face another day.
But I want to address that. Really see if I can forgive Life — it was not Life that did anything to me. Life is not to blame.
Life has held me through. Life has loved me no matter what. Life has always just been there, offering me breath, love and trees.
I don’t know how I will heal this or how long it will take but I am ready and willing to try.
I can start by making a list of what I think that might look like. If I were someone who trusted life, how would I act? How would I talk? How would I make decisions? How would I love?
Will my smile be different? My laugh? Maybe my very breathing will change.
I am eager to live in these questions, this exploration.
To take my six year old lovingly and gently by the hand and take over the reigns. Give her a soft place in my heart to go play in and reassure her that I got this now. Yes, my child, it is time.
Here we go.
Life On The Skinny Branches 