Sometimes we just have to grow up. For good, or bad, this does not always look the same for everyone. I guess for me, and for all of us, there is a part of us who never does. And this is good. It is that place we go to when we are looking for adventure. The place we go to when we are looking forward in life. That place, where at fifty eight years on the planet, I still can see, find and feel the girl of ten, or sixteen, reaching out to grab at life beyond my grasp. That spirit in me that refuses to believe that even with my limitations, physical, emotional or psychological, I can go beyond them and still have life and experience more than I have up to now.
Today I woke really believing this. Some days, in all honesty, over the last several years, I have awaken and wanted to just pull my blankets over my head and hide. I want to hide from the pain. Hide from my cowardness to face what lay on the plate of my life. Hide from my loses. Mostly, to hide from some hard truths, and my culpability in them. But mostly, hide from the work I needed to do to get to the bottom of what put me in such a place, so dark, and without the child. So adult.
The bottom line – well honestly, there are several. I learned during my formative years to not trust my gut. That I had to weigh and measure every choice I made to the point of taking anything fun to a place of work. “Every choice has good and bad consequences, so chose well.” I took it to the extreme. I lost the ability to do this on a level that still allowed me to enjoy life.
The few times in my life that I did not weigh the thing to death, I have now as some of my most cherished memories. Even if I held back on a couple of things in the process. The night I decided and then ultimately followed through to come the the University of Arizona from Iowa. The night that my then boyfriend and I with another couple went to a movie and the “swimming” afterward. The time I took a chance and did the “What Happens in Vegas stays in Vegas”. The time when my debt was higher than a ten story building, and I took the plunge to go on a cruise with my pathetic little tax return. My decision to become the religion I have always been called to be, and live my spiritual life more authentically. The night I went on the beer run. The time I went on a dare for an evening with a friend to places I would not usually go. Letting myself admit to loving someone, even if it was too late, but then honoring them in ways that they would be proud.
These are the glue that makes my life worth living. The times I have done things and not regretted them, and not over thought them, and have been in ways the things that most people do not know about with me. That have been done without me hurting myself or others. The things that are the authentic me, the child in me reaching out beyond the hard and difficult times that life demands we just sit down and slog through. We spend so much time slogging that sometimes we forget to remember the glue that always allows us the energy to slog away.
I feel a glue moment calling me. I am not sure what it will be, but I guarantee you, it will be a good one.