In the Middle

I wrote this almost 1,000 days ago, and feel the need today to reflect:

How do you know when you are half way there? 

It seems the first half of the thing is all anticipation and discovery – laying down immutable decisions before you have any clue what walls they will erect for yourself. 

So, then what is the second half?  Regret? Reminiscence? 

That’s not the goal.  

Maybe it should be refinement.  I’d expect the optimistic risk taker I was in the beginning would expect my forty something self to still be charging forward, creating, emerging until its over.

So here I am in the middle. 

Like Vonnegut’s Breakfast of Champions, I feel like I need to contemplate and shed to lighten the load for the next steps in the journey.

Somehow making it live makes it more real.  And cheaper than therapy. 

And something I can share if it ever becomes useful. You are welcome to gawk.

Who was I really writing to in this piece?  At the time, I thought I knew, but in hind sight, I’d like to say that this muse really gave me license to contemplate for my own benefit.

Half way there.  That, such a linear way of thinking which was all I knew at the time. Kids, work, mortgage, making the decisions I’d made work— all felt like a step by step plodding process.  Time is far more loopy now, and growth doesn’t always come in slow steady steps like a ladder or a staircase or a mountain climb. Sometimes, it is like a quilt, where each patch happens in isolation, but over time, it creates an entire unplanned landscape that somehow seems well-planned.  Sometimes there are leaps, where an epiphany catapults me forward in a way that almost feels like cheating.  Sometimes there are cliffs, and once I’ve gone over, there is NO WAY to get back. Sometimes it takes lots of time, but there, this time is exponential, not linear.  The first 4 months for the tiniest shift in thinking, then that breaks the blockage, and new opportunities to “get there” flood in, so that 2 months, then 1 month, then 1 week later the change rate is hard to mark, it occurs so seamlessly.

But mostly, it is loopy, this time and growing and healing. I am all the experiences I’ve had and willfully acting in a manner today that will manifest all of my future experiences, and totally not in charge all at the same time. I see connections between that Dalai Lama talk I watched, the terrible date that I never called back, my children becoming who they are meant to be, the deep appreciation for my marriage, and the almost OCD way I sometimes feel like I’m grieving even though nothing is truly lost.  These are not different domains or parts or feelings or thoughts than one another.  They are not incongruous with each other. They are my story.

And it is not half way done.  It is a continual refinement process, taking how my past feels to guide my future, listening to those deep longings that walk me into unpredictable mysterious experiences that soon become familiar, giving me the ability to pause and see what makes sense because I can feel it in my bones.  In this way, I am and will always be, in the middle.

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