I’m learning to allow the space between where I am and where I want to be to inspire me and not terrify me.
The last two weeks were straight up awful. And I could list a few reasons why here and there. There were some tangible things that happened. Some stuff that saddened me or disturbed me or stressed me out. A lot of it was just emotional driftwood that finally made it to shore after the past few months. It was bound to wash up and hit me someday.
And it hit me in the face. Randomly. Unexpectedly. My eyes a little dazed and a sharp pain shooting through my nose. Strong enough to make my ears ring a little bit and make me wonder if I should sit down for a minute or else I might fall.
I did sit. In my car. And teared up to music that had nothing to do with my situation, but made me emotional none the less. I sat on my couch and journaled frantically, the words barely legible as I scribbled away. When I couldn’t sit, I distracted myself at work. Thankful for my second home. Still, I fought tears in the hallways in the bowels of Disneyland as I frantically tried to find my way through construction, both literally and figuratively, feeling so so lost and incapable and wondering what on earth I was doing and where I was going and how I could make it through the next hour let alone day let alone week let alone year.
I asked a friend for a hug that somehow both calmed me down and didn’t at the same time. I wanted to fall apart in that moment. I wanted so badly to collapse. But that hug kept the pieces in place. For a little while.
A few days later, I did collapse. I cried and cried and cried on my couch for hours, for so many reasons. I talked to two of my best friends about one of the reasons, but it wasn’t until this moment that I’m typing this that I realized there were so many other insecurities and fears quaking and shaking inside of me.
And I realized at the tail end of these two weeks that were Lindsay’s Personal Fourteen Days of Hell, when things were finally calming down, and my friend asked me how I was doing, that a huge driving force behind all of this chaos was fear.
Mostly fear about the future.
I’ve seen what mistakes can do. I’ve seen what the consequences of actions can be. I have personally witnessed how so many small choices lead to giant choices that cause a ripple effect that cascade out to so many facets of a life. I’ve felt regret that stabs you in the chest repeatedly, with tiny sharp knives, that sting and twinge and don’t leave you alone.
So I’ve feared my future, which makes my present miserable. I’ve been afraid of making the wrong choices. Of letting moments slip. Of missing out again. Of making mistakes again. Of missing opportunities and feeling another jab from Regret.
And when my friend asked me how I’m doing, I told her that finally, finally, I realized the future actually doesn’t look so bleak. That it actually excites me. That I’m retraining my brain to not fear the future and what it may hold, but actually look forward expectantly, knowing it may just be beautiful. She fired back with that quote at the top of this post, which said exactly what I was trying to say in such a beautiful and simple way.
Regret and fear. Such powerful forces. They are crippling.
But not so powerful as hope. Determination. Courage. Joy. Faith. Compassion. Love.
And these are what I will hold on to. I choose to look to my future with excitement. I choose to be inspired by growth and change. It won’t always be easy. Of course it won’t.
But it will be worth it.