Alright, kids, confession time. I have been feeling incredibly sorry for myself recently.
Oddly enough, it was another person validating all I have been going through this year, telling me I’m not getting all worked up over nothing, that I have had it incredibly rough that snapped me out of my funk. This person was trying to help me, they said sometimes we all feel sorry for ourselves, we can’t help it.
This is absolutely true. And I have been dealing with — let’s just keep things short and say a whole lot of crap — I have been dealing with a whole lot of crap: crap of all shapes, sizes, colors, and varieties; internal crap, external crap, eternal crap, it seems to me sometimes. I know we all deal with crap, but I have been absolutely bombarded for about five months straight, with little or no respite.
In the last five months, I have been very limited in the things I can do. And I’m not talking about anything special, I’m talking about basic things some days, like walking and talking and even thinking.
And thus, smaller and smaller my world has been shrinking.
There are a great many limiting factors which are not under my control right now. This is an incontrovertible truth. And I know all of them intimately, they have been what has kept me company, all that has really been with me recently. With me, in me, around me; clinging to me, invading me, engulfing me like chloroform. I’ve felt trapped, imprisoned, bricked in to a life full of “can’ts”, already at tender 34. So many “can’ts” have sat with me and talked to me and beat their laws of limitations into my brain.
One thing I know I can’t do is change how I handled things, how I let these thoughts take root and flower in my life. Hell, some of them are not at all about me letting in negative thoughts, they are simply the truth of a situation and I must learn to move on with them.
But I decided last night that I will not give in any more. I’m going to break down these walls of “can’t”. I helped build them, but that means I know best how to break them.
And when I break through, I’m coming out swinging.
I’m coming out with “cans”. I’ve already started a list. This list doesn’t have to be practical. All it has to be is possible.
- I can get in the car and start driving, east or west until I hit the Atlantic or the Pacific; North or South until I hit Canada or Mexico. And as my passport is in order, I can keep right on going north or south. Actually, as I can swim, I can feasibly keep on going east or west as well.
- I can buy a one-way ticket to New Zealand (barely), and figure out how I’ll get back when it’s time for me to get back.
- Or I can buy a one-way to France, and spend days lost in the splendor of Notre Dame.
- I can spend those same days locked in the house reading, knowing I am safe and comfortable and well-nourished and loved and one of the most incredibly lucky human beings ever to have lived.
- I can explore my own city with the most amazing 14-year-old in the whole history of humanity.
The most important of the “cans”? I can meet whatever comes next, face it and stare it down and deny any would be “can’ts” their power over me. (“Rubbish, you have no power here. Now begone, before somebody drops a house on you, too!”).
I can open my eyes. I can recognize the gift that is my heartbeat. I can try to do something. Hell, I never wanted to be anyone anyway. (And if you get that paraphrased reference, I tip my hat.)
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