Blossoming Past the "What-If's"

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."-Anais Nin

This quote hit me particularly hard this morning. The sky is overcast, with a light haze of clouds that promise to break away once the sun's rays begin to shine completely through. It's also my last full day in L.A. for now and I'm starting to get scared. Anxiety, fear, worry, nervousness. Believe me, it's all there. 3 schools. 3 very competitive graduate level writing programs that I would be honored to be accepted into. A lot of work to do before the application deadlines. And what if I don't get in to any of them, then what? What if I do get in? Then what? Will I, MBA and all, really be able to find a good day job here, currently one of the worst job markets in the country? Do I really want to give up my 2 bedroom house for a studio or very small one bedroom apartment that will cost me slightly more than my mortgage and HOA fees combined? What if I fail? And is it really the best thing to move my ten year old terrier across the country during the last stage of his life?

Typical HSP'ness (if that's a word). We start ruminating about all the possibilities before we've even reached the crossroad. The "what-if's" and the "omg's," the potential bargainings, what we might lose, what we might gain and the "wouldn't it be safer just to stay put and not change anything." So, here I am, making a list of deadlines and things to do; thumbing through the materials I've gathered in the past week and running through the images and words my mind has recorded. I feel the fear rising up from my heart through my throat and I begin to question what I'm doing. That's when I find Nin's quote amongst the materials from one of the programs that I'm going to apply to.

So I begin to cry. A mixture of sad affirmation and determined resolve. Sad because I actually don't want to leave tomorrow for Florida. I wish I had another week here to explore. That's a new feeling that I don't know how to handle. Affirmation because without exploration, new discoveries can't be unveiled or appreciated. Like the boat that took me to Catalina Island on Wednesday, I'm not meant to simply sit, safely tied to a dock. I have to venture over vast, unknown waters with nothing more than a horizon in sight in order to find anything worthwhile. Determined resolve because beneath the anxiety there is still that inner peace of "knowing" this is right; it's what I have to do. The next stage, the next voyage, the next adventure, the next reinvention.

The only compass I have right now is inside my heart and it's still hard to trust. But it tells me to keep writing, to still be strong. It tells me that all I really have is my heart-listen to it.

In a way, we're all like that bud. Tight. Enclosed. Almost completely hidden. Afraid to reveal, afraid to become. That quote is a more eloquent way of stating one of my favorite sayings from author Dave Ramsey-"we only change when the pain of same is greater than the pain of change." The writer's imaginative way, full of metaphors, analogies and soulful images that leaves non-creatives scratching their heads trying to figure out the exact meaning.

This morning it is more than transparent. We all have to become what's inside. The "what-if's" and the bargainings are the risks that we eventually take or don't take. They're purely circumstantial. They exist no matter what we do or don't do.

If we continue to hide the discovery of who we are, then the world loses a piece of the beauty that makes it complete.

The Griffith Park Effect

Between Hollywood and Pasadena is a place that I've fallen in love with. Leave it to the somewhat frugal girl from Colorado to find a place in L.A. that's free and is full of mountains and hiking trails. Character traits aside, I knew instantly that I was in a special place when I saw the delicate mixture of colorful flowers, trees, and valleys juxtaposed against panoramic views of the city. You could even almost make out some of the shoreline of the Pacific if you looked hard enough. I don't know if many non-locals make it a point to visit Griffith Park when they come here, but they should.

Nature has a way of speaking to you through its stillness and its presence. It can provide comfort and serenity when you need to clear your mind. It can inspire you to see that there are still places in this world that are untouched, yet so profound in their ability to stop you in your tracks and make you just stare. Stare because you want to capture it and make it last somewhere inside. It can also make you realize that you've known yourself perfectly. Yes, that intuition doesn't lie and that peaceful urge that your soul feels shouldn't be ignored.

What started as a short, curious hike up a random trail somehow turned into a four hour journey up one of the hardest stretches in the park. I saw a lot of scenes that I hope I'll try really hard to never forget. Some I've seen before, but not from the perspective that I saw them from today. A bird even floated on the wind, as if it was attached to a string from the sky, dangling above the valley below Dante's View. Flying without movement. Suspended over the inhabited chaos below, waiting in decision over where to go next.

Decisions are something I've always had difficulty with. Like that bird, I'd rather wait in suspension above the world I think I want to fly into. Careful observation and deliberation is what I spend most of my energy on, swinging the pendulum back and forth between the options that life presents. Not this time. Since I've arrived here, I've felt a peace I haven't felt in quite awhile. This time I know. This time I've reaffirmed what my intuition was always telling me, with that strong, peaceful, silent urge.

Walking back down that trail I felt whole and happy. This time it's my dream and just my heart. This time there is no doubt. I don't even feel the desire to say "good-bye" to any substitute. This time I know that I've found home.

Emergence

Small moments have the power to change your life. Spontaneous conversations in passing have the profound ability to remind you of what you've always wanted, but have been too reluctant or afraid to go after. There are many individuals in this collection we call "society." Some we only observe, others we talk to briefly, some become "working relationships," others cherished connections.

This morning I woke up at 5 am. About two hours later than usual. The sunrise was beginning to make itself known, like the buds on the trees outside my front window that'll soon become big, green leaves that will whisper back and forth in the upcoming summer breeze. The air was cool, a piercing contrast against the "should-be" spring atmosphere. It's been like that in Colorado lately. We can't seem to quite let go of winter's harsh reality just yet. But despite the late snow showers, the cold wind and the frustrations in having to switch the thermostat from heat to a/c and back, Spring is still showing its signs of emergence. It can't be stopped. It won't be stopped, because that is its destiny. To bring visible life and vigor to what we experience as Nature.

Right now I am a little like Spring. Trying to make my authentic self visible. Following through on ideas and hopes that never quite formulated themselves until I was ready. A small, spontaneous conversation was all it took to remind me. To show me why I've felt unfulfilled. A harsh wind that said "wake up!" What you're doing and what you want are at opposite ends of each other. Who you are can't be stopped from displaying pieces of itself, even amidst a landscape of dry, brown covered fields.

It's time to dance, despite the fact that the notes haven't yet been written. The music will play itself into what it wants to be. One can only hope that it becomes something larger than what it originally thought it would. Like a song, we don't have to start out knowing exactly who we are. Each line, each chorus, each stanza, and even each note emerges as it should. Just like the seasons, each piece is somewhat predestined and seemingly unaware of its connection to the larger entity that it helps create.

Today I've written that first note and seen that first bud start to bloom on still barren branches. I might have to endure a few more harsh winds and a few more snowflakes before Spring finally arrives. But, even Winter won't be able to stop what's already there from emerging. Still hidden, yet inspired by the fact that it knows what it has to do.

What’s important is to not stop what already is from showing what it knows it should be.

Forgiveness

Forgiveness is a simple word with a lot of different meanings. For starters, it's not a light-weighted subject matter. It's one simple word, one simple concept that contains a lot of power behind it. Some individuals that I've crossed paths with simply toss it around as if its meaning were as simplistic and common as saying "hello." I admit, I used to do this too; mostly when I was younger and my undeveloped mind was more focused on emulation rather than independent thought. Yet, somewhere inside, even when my mind was still trying to formulate itself, I felt a sharp disconnect between what I was outwardly portraying and what I was really feeling.

I was told that I should forgive others because it was the right thing to do and Jesus forgave me for my "sins," so I should forgive everyone else for theirs. The problem is that the process isn't that easy; especially if you feel things more intensely than most or personalize and internalize someone else's actions that just happened to be directed towards you. When that's the case, you can carry around resentment, anger, fear and grudges for a long time afterwards and not even realize it. Until something triggers a reminder. Or you suddenly feel the weight of your heart sinking and you wonder why since you really have no reason to be this sad or frustrated with life.

Sometimes we don't really take the time to explore why we feel violated and what we need to feel at peace again because it's easier to dismiss what happened and maintain an outward expression of "everything's ok between you and me." Perhaps we think it's better to do the work later; that the mere words of "I forgive you, let's move on" will wave their magic wand and erase the fact that "everything is really not ok between you and me." We're creatures of pretend, of fantasy. A lot of good things exist in that realm, but when you allow it to discredit what you really feel, you cheat yourself out of the possibility of inner freedom, conviction, validation and esteem. The problems that existed before you publicly mouthed those words aren't going anywhere. They'll come back, despite the scripts and the carefully calculated lines. Ad-libs have a way of sneaking out when you least expect them to. Eventually you can't conceal what the heart needs to say.

I think in a lot of cases forgiveness is a long process, perhaps even lifelong. I know it has been like that for me with more than a few people. Sensitivity has a way of magnifying what we feel as betrayal and injustice. It also has a way of automatically making us feel inherently flawed, as though we were the only ones who might have done something wrong. Or even worse, that there must be something about who we are that was so completely inadequate that it caused the other to act the way they did.

The thing about true forgiveness is that it really isn't about the other person. It's about you. It may take a few seconds, six months, a few years or even a lifetime to release yourself. By release I mean truly separate your identity from the other, their actions, their words, their choices. Separating yourself requires a little bit more than tossing out the simple words "I forgive you." It's a decision that acknowledges how those actions, words and choices made you feel. A decision that realizes that's how I felt, but those internal feelings and external choices are not who I am. True forgiveness is the realization that there's something more valuable than trying to change what's already done. That "something" more valuable is the life within your soul.