I've been giving a lot of thought to being "stuck" lately. I'm going through something personally that has been exceptionally hard on me. And difficult.
A month ago (well, years ago, but that's a different story...) a person's choices happened in my life. And I made some choices in response. In the weeks since the "event" I've tried to offer a truce, of sorts. I had hoped for a quiet resolution so peace could somehow be restored to our family's lives and we could all move on. But that's not what happened.
Consequently, tomorrow morning a news story hits the press and I have no idea what will happen from there. And it's unfortunate. Because it didn't need to go the way it has, and is.
But we all make choices, a direction follows, and a destination (outcome) is determined in the process.
How often are we mindful enough, aware enough, careful enough to consider the choices we're making in the process of our lives? Do we think about the outcome? Do we consider the destination our direction is deciding? Is it what we want? Because outcome happens by choice. All along the way...
A couple of weeks ago I was spending time with my dear friends, Gene and Harriet Hatch. They are older than me, and wiser. They were talking with me about life and things that have been happening lately. With all the love in her heart Harriet took my hand as we sat talking and said, "You've been working SO hard trying to make your life work, ever since you left your husband. And I know you feel like you're aging. But you're a young woman, Kathleen! And you're beautiful. And in about three days you're going to be 80. I know it doesn't seem like that now, because you're young. But about a day from now you're going to be 60. And then another day later you're going to be 70. Then the next day you'll be 80. The time is going to go by so fast. What are you doing for yourself, Kathleen? For your happiness?"
So I've been giving thought to her counsel, considering the ways I could make changes. Naturally, I've considered the power of choice to change the course of a future. And it's been striking me lately, how stuck we can sometimes be. Or at least how stuck we can feel.
My friend Peggy wrote something in her blog today that was much of what I've been thinking about being (or feeling) stuck. She wrote, "...as I have attempted to achieve some level of stability for my kids and myself, I have often felt like I was trapped inside a giant chunk of immovable stone, unable to turn my head in any direction, to hope, or even to breathe. I kept having this recurring image from my college art history class, of myself as one of those unfinished sculptures by Michelangelo, knowing there was something more under the rock that was beautiful and useful, perhaps even valuable, if I could just find a way to get it out... ...As I have given more thought to that feeling of being trapped in solid and unforgiving rock, like one of Michelangelo’s unfinished masterpieces, it has occurred to me that many of those pieces are just as famous and considered to be just as valuable as the ones that he did finish. They are in museums, too. In fact, when I went back and studied some of these statues again, they struck me as almost being more breathtaking than the polished and refined versions. They certainly stirred up more emotion in me. The passion of the struggle and the perfection of the parts that have managed to emerge, in stark contrast to the rock, represent the reality of the struggle that we all face each day."
I'm including this picture from her post because it's such a great visual representation of the concept. (Good job, Pegs.)
I don't want to look back when I'm 80 and feel like I was so busy trying to make my life work that I ended up stuck in the rock, totally missing the mark. Even if Michelangelo's unfinished pieces are maserpieces... (Although Peggy's comments did encourage me, reminding me that we are perfected in the process.)
I want to HEAR my friend Harriet (who IS 80), and make the choices to make my life worthwhile now in the ways that will matter to me then.
Peace and happiness, and the ability to contribute to other people's peace and happiness. That's what I want.
This story, about to run in the paper, doesn't give me peace. Or happiness. Largely because I didn't want people to be hurt by someone's actions. So I made the choice to hold back the truth, thinking it was the least hurtful thing. Until I realized I was being hurt in the process.
Our lives are the result of our choices. And choices give direction, resulting in a destination, an outcome.
So Happy #87 is simply stated: Think your choices through to the outcome. None of the story that's about to be released in the press had to happen.
"The truth is worth the risk," one of my favorite leading men said to his love interest in a movie I saw recently.
I hope so.
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