There's no reason why today can't be a new adventure, a new beginning, or a returning to the romance that moved your bones and your blood not so long ago, when you were young enough to believe in infinite possibility.
When we restrict our own growth, unintentionally, by habit, we don't realize how constricted, how constrained we've become. We don't realize how much we've inadvertently crippled ourselves, cramming our feet into routines whose purpose we've long forgotten.
So. Isn't about time for a transplant? And if all that space feels frightening at first, no matter--it's space we'll soon grow into.
I don't know about you guys, but I'm tired of not following the paths I painstakingly laid down over the years. We put in the work and then, at some point, I don't know. We got too tired or too distracted or too discouraged to follow through.
But all that work can't have been for nothing. True, some of those paths would have dead-ended, no doubt, but now, well. I'm tempted to pull out the old map from the back of the drawer, stick a few pins into the places I've abandoned, lace up my boots, and take to the woods.
You don't need to dust off your passport or you old road-trip mixtape in order to breathe a little life into your sense of adventure. Truly--it can be something as simple as sitting in a different chair at breakfast, parking in a different space at work. We entrench ourselves in our habits--not that routine isn't stabilizing, not that it isn't healthy--but there can be an unhappy limit to how far we push our patterns.
We forget that the world looks like an entirely different place from a slightly different angle. This is one of the joys of living in a 360-degree world--we have options and those options, even in the small capsules of our days, are endless.
I really think plants have the best life, the best kingdom--community, medicine, cooperation, generational intelligence, intuition--it's all there, housed in the seed, intuitively accessed. I think we have a few millennia to go before we return to that place of automatic insight. Next life? I'm putting in a request to come back as a birch.
But, then again, that's the herbalist talking, so no surprise there.
There are, however, a few adaptations we were granted to help make up for our inherent defects--one, we can move. In this generation. We don't have to wait for the winds to take our seeds, our progeny, to a better, sunnier spot. We have no (real, *real*) excuse to stay put where our roots rot, flies eat at our stalks, or deer ravage our produce.
Two? We can sprout whenever we want. We can drop the husk of the old and begin anew--frosts or no, weather notwithstanding. That is true freedom. In this breath you can begin. In the next, you can change course. You can turn your face in th...
You don't have to be one thing. You can't help your chemistry--what you're drawn to, what repels you. You can't squeeze an ill-fitting hat onto your noggin, no matter how you wear your hair. You just end up grumpy with nothing but a wicked headache to show for it.
So throw it away (okay--donate it; don't throw it away--that's just needlessly dramatic and wasteful...) and try on another. And another. Keep a shelf of hats in your closet. Hell, keep a closet of hats in your house.
Love how you look (or how you're able to hide--there are hats for that, too) and don't give a flying fig to anyone who tells you otherwise.
(Or, better yet, buy them a sweet Indiana Jones hat and tell them to seek their own adventure--you're already living yours).
I problem solve by nature. I think, at times, this drives friends and family (co-workers and students...) crazy. Why? Well, sometimes peeps just got to vent, and if there's an obsessive problem-solver all up in there, well, they can't vent satisfactorily. (Usually, though, you tell me that, and we're all good; I'll shut my trap and cheer you on from the sidelines, my sisters and brothers--I do love a good venting session... Plus, and this is another post altogether--it's exhausting to think you need to solve everyone's problems, and, might I add, who are you to take on that role??).
Anyway, I digress...
So, occasionally, because the problem-solver will step in (unwanted at times...yes, it's presumptuous to be a problem-solver--I admit that readily and I apologize for it all the time), we become unaccustomed to solving our own problems (myself included--I have my own bevy of problem-solvers out there...). We rely so heavily on the creative angle-finding-ability of others, that we...