Some of us have no gift for moderation. I'm not sure why, but I think it has to do with an inherent lack of optimism, at least, in my case. And where that came from, by stars or disposition or myriad schoolyard traumas, I have no idea. I admire those who can swim easily between extremes, steady and breathing, enjoying either the yes or the no.
I do have a gift for going cold turkey, for which I am grateful. Abstinence from all indulgence really seems the easiest path--if there is no temptation, then there is no struggle. If there's no struggle, then there is no heavy emotional messiness to haul up and carry around. I love anticipation, but not the end of things--the piece of chocolate cake, the holiday, the trip to Alaska/Europe/the Caribbean, the relationship, the phone call, the book.
The end becomes so overwhelming, so all-encompassing, that it's easiest, really, either never to begin, or to have a spare experience always waiting in the wings.
We really do make it entirely too difficult, too often for ourselves. The bitch of it is that we *like* that inconvenience, I think. We like the feeling of being burdened, of sacrificing something, even if it's only in our heads. Goddess forbid we enjoy a day, work or no work, without guilt, without feeling we *should* be miserable, at least in small part, in order to feel worthy.
I blame Hollywood. And Puritans.
And I blame ourselves for mainlining this idea that it all has to be so bloody difficult to be worthy of mention. Mention. Well, there's too much noise in this world anyway, not enough focus on quiet diligence, quiet joy and a day very well spent.
Which is good, really, since it's what our generation (age be damned) was born to do. We've got the hardest part done--that huge rope is over our shoulders, we've arranged ourselves in one long line up the mountain--
now all we have to do is heave it over the top and watch it roll its happy way down the other side.
You don't need a reason, spoken or unspoken, to say no.
When you were born, you reserved the Divine-given right of refusal--not for life and its experiences--don't mistake me, but for anything that compromised your integrity, your truth, your beauty, your expression, or your values.
Challenge them? Sure, why not? You're strong enough and you know you love a good challenge. But just to fight for fight's sake? No. You don't need that expenditure.
You are here to challenge the system--the one put in place around you. When you lead from instinct, from compassionate heart, you will always know when the answer is an echoing, resounding, undeniable yes.
Then? It's all clear, like a weight has fallen finally, finally. But you have to be present to get there. You have to feel all of the crud and scum swirling around; you have to keep yourself from reacting drastically, emotionally; you have to thank the experience. And then?
That's the question, right? When to be still? When to settle? When to keep going?
Well, I think it's just not in my nature to settle down. In a place? Yes. In a house? Yes. I like routine, I like stability. But when it comes to the work I do in this world? It's always changing--out of necessity, out of creativity, out of inspiration.
One day I just decided, well, I guess that's okay.