Last night’s entry was a bit strange, I know. But there’s something to be said for being lost in one’s mind–and add to that the strange being-lost-in-the-internet! Yes, the imagination can run wild on the WWW. I like to think the WWW is similar to the brain’s many different neuronal pathways in that the “monkey-brain” can jump from one topic to the next, in no specific pattern and with seemingly no connections to speak of. One moment you’re thinking of buying new running shoes, and the next, you’re wondering what exactly you’d do if you had the capacity to fly by will like you did in that dream you had one time….
Which brings me to my most recent thoughts on being-lost. I find that the panic that sets in while lost and wandering around life, unsure of where to go next, is triggered by the idea of how things should go, not how they are actually going.
This happens when we are too lost in our mind, floating about from one thought to the next, without any grounding.
Anxiety, angst and pain stem from living in the un-real. I imagine THIS SCENARIO is what I’d want for my life, what I want to happen next. And instead, A. B. and C. show up, laughing joyfully, carrying clementine oranges as gifts, knocking on my door, and I stutter, but but but NO! I wanted THIS SCENARIO to happen, not A. B. and C.! Commence crying.
What I’d like to remind myself is, how can I know that A. B. and C. aren’t actually blessings? Sure, A. represents rejections, B. represents lack of job opportunity and C. represents, well, general malaise and a stubbed toe. Not at all what THIS SCENARIO looked like—success, acceptances, a cool, hip, fun job that isnt’ too suffocating, and definitely not a stubbed toe.
But what if the rejections were clearing the path for something better? What if the lack of job leaves time for my creative brain to work on a new project? And what if the stubbed toe, well, makes me appreciate a healthy body?
It’s all about perspective.
I go to bed every night, hands open and cupped and repeat: I am ready to receive. I am ready to receive.
Do I wake up the next day with 10 emails filled with publication acceptances, a healed toe and a hip, fun, job offer? No. Do I think my prayers are going unanswered? No.
For example, today I rode a horse that was difficult. He was heavy in the mouth, pulling me down in defiance as often as he could, bucking around every turn. Would it have been easier to have a smooth-riding horse? Yes. Did I complain that I was on a difficult horse? No.
Why? Because this horse, in his silly nature and playful antics, actually made me a better rider. He made me aware of my body and my weaknesses. Because I had to struggle with him, I had to become that much better, that much quicker. And it was fun! I am sore all over but completely content.
Why can’t I feel the same way about a “difficult time” as I do about a “difficult horse”?
I get up each morning and sure, it feels like every door I try to open is shut in my face. I feel lost. Unsure.
But lost is, first and foremost, an ADVENTURE! And I’m becoming more aware of myself, of who I am, what I want, and how I handle problems.
Thank you, I want to say. Thank you for pulling me off the path and into the woods. I don’t know what my life means at this moment, but I know it is for the best, in the end, that I’m lost.
Like I said earlier, anxiety and the like is caused by living in un-reality. Expecting things to go a certain way and they don’t.
But what IS the reality? Today was beautiful. There’s a creature tapping things around in my room, and it’s making me sleepy and somewhat happy. I am going home for a visit tomorrow. My car didn’t break down. A friend called to talk to me for two hours just to laugh together. I didn’t write a new poem, but I celebrated completed poems. I read over my manuscript. I witnessed the first falling leaves of the autumn. I jumped horses again for the first time in years. I worked out at the gym, and saw a beautiful man smile at me, who I will probably never see again. There was a bath, and a book of prayers.
So much to be grateful for in my lost-forest. I’m learning to count them, and say, when You’re ready, I’m ready.