Have you ever have had a year – or two, three, four of them in a row, even – that you felt were just… lost? By lost I mean you it's like you wandered into the middle of it looking for something, forgot what it was, then decided to just hang around for a bit, waiting to remember. Then maybe another year slips by and you're still not sure what you're doing there...
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Only age can give the gift of perspective. We breathe more deeply at 45 than at 20. We accept our gifts and weaknesses, and know the difference. We are less easily offended and less awed by our own brilliance (Thank you, Jesus!). Age brings a deep sense of gratitude. And gratitude, as I’ve written often, carries more of everything good in its wake.
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For others, we are the first to whoop and raise a toast and insist on celebrating their milestones, major successes and small wins. For ourselves, though, it’s… awkward.
Which might be OK, except this: every chance we pass up to celebrate our own lives sends a message to our hearts and brains that says “you are not worth it.”
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What do you do to stop feeling like you are completely failing at life….?
No really. I’m asking.
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Last week, I spent 4 days camping alone with my two 5 year olds.
We were in a special place called Writing On Stone Provincial Park. Mystical energy practically shimmers across the moon-like landscape there, so it is well and good that it also happens to be one of those rare places left on the planet that's completely off the grid in terms of cell or internet service. What’s the saying? Get into nature where there may be no wifi, but you’ll find a better connection? Yeah, that.
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Procrastination, man. It’s not one of the majors in the “deadly sin” firmament, but it should be. Because it’s killing your dreams. And mine.
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Imagine what it would be like to know that behind every cupboard and within every drawer are only things that you love? No misshapen t-shirts, chipped bowls, that ceramic chicken your granny gave you, dishwasher manuals, pens that don’t work. Everything you own brings pleasure.
E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.
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Creation and transformation are always shouldered on degrees of pain: the physical sear of childbirth; the epic collision of tectonic plates; the emotional turmoil of Hemmingway or Picasso. So it is, my friend, that you suffer a bit too in the interest of something that has never been before. And that is as noble and worthwhile a cause as any.
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The prevailing definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again hoping for different results. OK, yes. I would argue that a second and equally valid definition of insanity is failing to do the thing over and over again that you know guarantees different results.
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Do you feel like you’re just going-through-the-motions of life? Have you become separated from what’s true about yourself so that your days feel one-dimensional and brown? Do you keep yourself from “feeling” too much, because you just can’t even…?
Start with your body.
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