Come, Sit

I’m a sucker for good quotes, and a few days ago I ran across this one: “Anxiety happens when you think you have to figure everything out.”

Jesus, I thought, that is so freaking true.

I love overestimating the value of my plans, fooling myself into believing the right thought or perfect intention will alter the outcome of the universe. It’s like, I know two plus two equals four but maybe if I will it long enough, those two numbers will eventually add up to five. I just have to keep demanding and, you know, analyzing the ever-loving shit out of it.

It’s so stupid, and yet I’ve persisted because something in me truly believed that everything I’d accomplished in my life was a product of that worry. Twenty-nine years in and I’m still working to understand how the stagnant reality I’ve come to adopt isn’t, in fact, reality at all – just one person’s ignorant perception of it.

Pain x resistance = suffering.

I know this to be true because I am the queen of resistance. Case in point: When Savannah started preschool, I stomped my feet in adamant protest despite the clear inevitability of passing time because it is and always has been my go-to reaction.

Lately, however, I’ve been making a conscious effort to wave the white flag – an overdue break for my battered and blistered soles. No more weapons, no more shields. Just a cozy recliner and some Epson salt water for these ugly feet so I can watch my life unfold in peace. Because at the end of the day, it is what it is, right?

Speaking of quotes, I like this one too (courtesy of Jennifer Nettles, whom I stalk religiously on Twitter): “Amazing. When we get out of our own way, the universe opens the door to our desires, and walks behind us, applauding as we pass through.”

I have absolutely nothing figured out – not a single gosh darn scrap of a thing. But for the first time ever, I’m sitting back and letting that cluelessness lead the way.

And so far it feels pretty darn good.

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