Sometimes I hit that place in life (again and again and again) where I don’t just hit one wall, I hit four, and there are no windows, no doors, no openings…and all I can do is just sit there, in the dark, wondering what to do next. My impulse in those moments is not to sit quietly in the dark and be thankful for the stillness and immobility, but to thrash about like an angry, cornered beast. I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit. I often find myself in that dark room. Stuck, with no idea where to go or what to do next. I fight it and I fight it hard. I bang on the walls, draw diagrams and calculations about how to break through the walls or strategize as to how to make the entire room move with me in it, therefor creating the illusion of movement. All this, I believe, can be classified as insanity. From the outside, this can look like someone with a maddening drive to succeed and problem solve, or someone is just maniacally busy and accomplished. To those who know me deeply, it looks exactly as it is. Me, trying to push through concrete walls, screaming and yelling and pounding, exhausting myself and trying in vain to change the entire course of the universe. This, my friends, is the opposite of surrender. And sanity.
A few months ago, I was dealt a rather devastating blow in my work life. A job that would have been on-going and financially viable fell through. It floored me. All of a sudden, I was faced with a financial crisis and myriad issues of value, self-worth and frustration. I spent a day or two being completely angry and manic and then attempted to retreat into problem-solving mode. I didn’t feel better, no doors opened and most of all, I was faced with the possibility of not being able to take care of my family financially. There is very little that is more devastating for someone like me than to not be able to take care of myself and my children. If you’ve never been truly broke or poor in your life, or broke and poor and responsible for children/dependents on your own, this isn’t something that will make any sense to you. (If that’s the case, you have much to be grateful for!) This feeling of impending doom, which takes on rather dramatic affect in these moments, can color everything.
Several months have passed, and I’ve worn myself out in that 4-walled room. It’s been dark and lonely and crazy-making. I’ve spent a lot of time running in circles, searching craigslist every day, making cold calls and applying for a few jobs, but here I am. In the dark. Yesterday I hit my limit with the pounding and gnashing and flailing. I decided to just surrender to the dark and quiet and stillness and just be. I’ve exhausted my attempts at changing the current state of things, and in doing so have realized that maybe in this moment, when it’s dark and quiet and there’s nothing to be done, that maybe the sane thing to do would be to sit down, tuck myself in for a moment and see what it feels like just to stop forcing and fighting the immobility, stop trying to make things move and shift when it’s simply not time. Perhaps the thing to do is to just wait a moment (as miserable at that makes me feel) and trust that the next move will be obvious, that the work will come and the support will come and the projects will come and if there’s nothing to be done in this moment, then inaction is the action. No judging, no controlling, no forcing. Just stillness.
I’ve spent my whole life working hard. I’ll spend the rest of it working hard too. This morning when I woke up, I decided that I was going to let go, at least for today. I wasn’t going to flail around and force and fight it. I was going to move through the day without an agenda, without goals and without the long list of attempts at solving the things I tend to screw up every day. I was going to ignore the lists of things that I am struggling with and the big blame list of “why I’m in this predicament to begin with” and all the ways I expect the impossible from myself as a woman and mother and provider for my little family. I decided to stop thinking about the dead ends and strategies for plowing those dead ends into new roads (which I can do, by the way). But not today. I’m tired, and nothing is budging. So, it’s time to be still. Let go.
I'm not evolved enough to see this as acceptance or feel this as surrender yet. I still see it as being stuck. But at least I’ve had the where-with-all to stop and see what the day holds. A beautiful day well-spent, accomplishing very little except just being here with lots of gratitude, joy and even some rest. For someone like me, that in itself, is a massive accomplishment.
