Stuff in my head Archives - Page 11 of 14

October 3, 2016

Lost and Found – Joy

Play it safe joy . One of Lisa’s cardinal rules. I think it started when I was fairly young. Limit risk, know what you’re getting into. Lots of contingency planning, back up plans. Before I get into anything, I’ve usually done extensive research, made sure I know how it could go wrong and make plans to avoid that. I don’t want to deal with things going wrong. I want things nice and buttoned up, within my control, that’s what safe looks like.

So how’s that working for you? Yep, that’s the question I’ve been rolling around in my head, that I’ve been asked. Well, nice and safe, that’s how that’s working. And on the surface, that seems fine, I had a lot going on with my kids, work, family, lots of responsibilities to tend to. So keeping my risks down makes a lot of sense. No time for things to go wrong. But they still did go wrong. And in the meantime, I’d been so busy playing it safe I hadn’t been paying attention to the fact that there wasn’t a lot of joy in my life. It’s hard to have joy where you’re busy being serious all the time.

And it’s also hard to really know what joy is when you don’t let yourself experience the other side, the pain. Staying safe avoids pain. Doesn’t mean you avoid difficulty, but safe steers you around a lot of pain. Don’t be fooled though, the pain can still come, it just comes unexpectedly. Comes when your safe existence is shaken, or shattered.

But if you walk through the pain, when, not if, you survive it, an interesting thing can happen. You start to see more joy, at least I did. Something about the pain strips away your defenses. When I let myself be outside the lines, not be so safe, I starting seeing joy. Joy in the simple things. Joy in every day. Joy that God has had for me all along. I started feeling deeper. My heart felt more compassion for others, more understanding.

When I stopped playing it so safe, that’s when I woke up. That’s when I saw what I’d really been doing. Where the path I’d been walking down had led me. It caused me to rethink choices I’d made, ways I’d engaged with people I cared about. And I didn’t like some of what I saw. But I’d learned what pain felt like now, and it helped me to be brave. I had hard conversations. And there was some pain, because admitting when you’ve made mistakes – even when in the spirit of just staying safe, which you’ve used to justify what you’ve done in the past – it hard.

What’s the point of going down that hard path again? The once elusive joy now shows up more and more often. The braver I am, the more I lean into discomfort, the more joy and peace I’m experiencing. And that is an amazing thing. Give it a try!

September 25, 2016

Will you help me?

help-me I’m a round-about asker, I don’t like to ask people directly to help me. Here’s what that looks like.

Me (to the air and family by-standers): “Looks like the trash is ready to go out.”

Family by-standers: Silence

Me: “Yep, after lunch, the trash really needs to go out.”

Family by-standers: Silence, accompanied with putting more in the trash.

Me: “Would be nice if someone would take out the trash.”

Family by-standers: “What’s for dinner?”

Me: Exacerbated “I guess I’ll take the trash out.”

Family by-stander: “I would’ve done that – you just had to ask.”

But I don’t want to ask. I want them to know that I need the trash taken out, that I need help. Oh wait, I guess that means I presume they are wired exactly like me, but they’re not, and so I get myself all wound up and frustrated.

Why is it so hard to ask for help? I think, especially for women, it’s tough. I, for one, have such a need to be seen as having it all together, keeping all the balls in the air. But the truth is, I don’t have it all together. I’ve spent a lot time thinking about that, that hesitancy. A lot of it has to do with not wanting to look incapable, or look “less than.” I was recently encouraged to flip that around though, think about what I would think if someone asked me to help them. The truth is, I would think, “awesome, would love to help,” and I would be appreciative of having been asked.

I was thinking about this in relation to prayer the other day. I know that in the past, I have rarely asked friends to pray for me. Will ask for prayer for my family, people I care about, but rarely for me. If I can’t ask someone to help me, how possibly could I ask someone to do something as personal as pray for me?? That would mean I’m vulnerable, that I have problems, that my life is not perfect. Oh wait, in fact my life is not perfect. If yours is, awesome, but you’re an anomaly. We all have stuff. The way I’m wired though is to show people bright and shiny, not the hot mess side. If you see the hot mess side, you might not want to stick around – at least that’s what I’ve told myself. Except the thing is, I think people do see the hot mess side, and they care about me anyways, they stick around. Well that’s just crazy, I think, but my heart warms a little at the thought.

I asked a friend at work to pray for me the other day, and she thanked me for letting her pray for me. I was blown away. I’d never thought that someone would be thankful to pray for me. But back to the flip side thing, I’d be happy and feel blessed to pray for them. Why I’m so hard on myself, or minimize that other people may care about my needs is all part of my stuff, the hot mess side. What is finally starting to sink in though is the truth… to the same degree that I care about, want to help, want to pray for people, they feel the same about me. I can show up exactly as I am, not hiding any of the messy stuff, and that’s going to be ok with my family, my friends, those I care about. Knowing that is still sinking in. What is sinking in is that if people already see some of that messy side of me, I don’t have to spend as much time worrying about being bright and shiny, they’re going to care about me anyway.

So for you…people love you, care about you, want to help you, want to pray for you, just like you do for them. If we can really, in our hearts, believe that, believe how blessed we really are, it’s a pretty freeing feeling. Go on, give it a try, I’ll help you.

September 18, 2016

What’s your Get out of Jail Free card?

get-out-of-jail-free If you are among the 1% or less of the population who hasn’t played Monopoly, there are spaces on the board that send you to jail. Your best bet at that point is to use a “get out of jail free card.” It will get you off this spot and back into play without having to roll doubles or pay a $50 fine. I’ve been wondering if we don’t all have a get out of jail free card as it relates we use in our life.

I think about a lot of stuff, particularly with respect to figuring out how I’m wired, and how I show up in life, to myself and to others. So to get to that, I’ve been looking at what I value and a big standout is being responsible. For me, being responsible is a big deal. My wiring is to be responsible in everything I do. Here’s what that looks like. I take care of my home – it’s neat and clean all the time; I show up for work, every day, even when I’m sick; I work hard, and long, and put forth 110% effort; I take care of other people, family, friends, from the standpoint of their visible needs…providing, cooking, attending to their visible needs; I take care of my physical body by exercising (granted, this one brings me a lot of energy). Being responsible in these ways is how I was raised, and I don’t think it’s a bad thing.

It’s occurred to me lately though that I’m missing part of the picture. I think being responsible is a bit of a get out of jail free card for me. Here’s why. When I am doing all the things I think are responsible, I’m too busy to just be. I don’t, or maybe I avoid, spending time on myself, my inner needs. I’m starting to see that I use being responsible as my “Get out of jail free” card. I don’t have time for nurturing myself because I’m busy doing all the time. Nurturing myself means slowing down, letting other things go – maybe – so that I can just rest. Rest my body, nurture my body, nurture my spirit. Honestly, just thinking about it makes me break into a nervous sweat. If I’m not Lisa the responsible person – responsible as I’ve defined it, than who am I, am I letting myself, or others, down?

But I’m also learning, realizing, that just being with myself is as important, or maybe more important, than all the other things I do. AND, I’m realizing that all the doing and “responsibility” is a way my inner critic keeps me small, covers up those fears that I have about being seen as I am on the inside. Keeps me from truly experiencing life and relationships. Tells me that doing is part of my worth. In reality, my worth IS on the inside, comes from God who made me just as I am, it’s not dependent on what I do. How am I going to know that though if I’m so busy doing? That doesn’t give me time to just be with myself and be with others. The truth is, to have deeper relationships, I need to get comfortable in the space of being with myself, and being with others. Redefine my truth. Responsibility is a strength, but not what defines me. It’s not “jail” to take care of me, my heart, my spirit, and it’s not “jail” to take care of others in the same way.

What is your get out of jail free card? That excuse you use (probably subconsciously) to avoid fully engaging in life? It’s different for each of us because we are different, we are unique, and that’s an awesome thing. I think that we don’t really need that card because where we are, who we are, is not really jail at all, we’re worth embracing, worth getting to know, worth acknowledging our own needs, worth being brave enough to see ourselves as we are. If we try to escape that, to avoid it, we miss developing the gifts that we have to give ourselves and give to others. So I’m going to sit in that space, to just be, and invite you to ditch the get out jail free card too, the excuse that keeps you “safe.” Lean in to the discomfort because if we don’t ever feel it, we may not feel the flip side which is fully experiencing our lives.

September 10, 2016

The Wonder Woman Inside Me

Let’s b wonder_woman_linda_carter_p e honest, for those of us who grew up in the 70’s, Wonder Woman was awesome. She had mystical powers, the Lasso of Truth, those cool bracelets, and the tiara. I can’t forget the awesome costume she donned when she headed out to kick some bad guy butt. I think a lot of women, secretly and not so secretly, think that they’re Wonder Woman. She could do it all, nobody could stop her, all while holding down a day job.

I’ll admit, I’m drawn to Wonder Woman because of the outfit and tiara. Being honest. I also like to tell myself that I can be like Wonder Woman. I can do it all, no one can stop me. Except here’s the thing, it’s a lot of work. I say yes to people, yes to myself, why yes I can do 3 half marathons in as many days, yes I will crush my body with a workout and get back up and do it again, yes, I will take on that extra work. I mean, really, that’s just what you do. That’s the expectation I created for myself. Bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan and make a BLT.

But back to Wonder Woman for a minute. She could do it all, or could she? She is in the Justice League and had her super hero friends to lean on when she needed help. Even if she didn’t need help, she recognized that there were other people who could get the job done better, faster, safer, so that she could tackle the bigger fish in her pond. My opinion is that Wonder Woman’s hidden strength was that she would ask for help and she could say no.

And I’ve been thinking about this quite a bit, not Wonder Woman exactly, but being able to say no. I’ll admit, not a fan. Here was my recent struggle. I really did sign up (in April) to do the 3 half marathon’s in 3 days. It’s coming up soon, beginning of October. But, as I get older, my body is resisting me more. And I don’t like that. I want to be invincible. Last week though, I couldn’t stop thinking about this race. Thinking how I could do it, but it would leave a mark. One would be fine, but 3 would hurt, and some hurt is ok, expected even, but not hurt to the point where I knew in advance it would not be my smartest move. Would not be the best for my health. Would leave me tired for a while. The voice in my head told me to suck it up, not be a quitter. Reminded me that I paid good money to do the races, most of which I would not get back, and only some of which I would get in the form of a deferral to next year’s race.

All these thoughts were swirling in my head and I actually felt slightly nauseous as I went online and dropped 2 of the races. It’s done. And the world didn’t end. Except that I’m telling you, no one even really knows. The funny thing is, after a couple days, I actually felt stronger inside. I realized that sometimes the strongest thing I can do is say no. No to the wrong things so I have more time and energy for the right things. And more and more, the right things have to do with people. Spending time with my tribe, my family, my friends, those I care deeply about. Saying yes to focusing on people brings me a lot longer lasting joy than events which I love and still will do, but which have a day-long instead of lifelong impact.

So back to Wonder Woman. She rocked it and in my mind, she rocked it because she knew where her strengths lie and built on that. I’m seeing that there’s strength in not being invincible, so today, I’m embracing that – and feeling oddly stronger. I think that’s because we all have a little Wonder Woman inside of us.

September 4, 2016

Lane Lines or Open Water?

I’ve mentioned it before, but I am a swimmer. And if you’re a swimmer, you know that lap swimming involves staring at the bottom of the pool for however long you’re out there. In the lane where I swim, and in most lap pools, there’s a line at the bottom of the pool that, in my case, helps me make sure I’m swimming straight. Given that my swimming can be a little bit crazy at times, I value the line, keeps me on the right path.

But I also swim in open water. When I swim at the lake, I think that a GPS picture of my swim would look like a squiggly line. I sight often and try to stay straight, but for the life of me, that doesn’t seem to happen. I veer to the right, then the left, but never really in a straight line. Now, I like doing things right, which in this case would mean swimming straight, but if I’m being honest, I’d have to say that I really like swimming in the open water. It’s always beautiful, the air is fresh, no chlorine and I’m outside, which I would rather be any time. The factors I love tend to outweigh the fact that I feel like I must look like I’ve been drinking and that there could be sharks…ok not really, but I still think about it.

I’ve been thinking about swimming compared to the way I operate in my day to day life. Gotta say, my set point is to follow the line. I follow the rules. I want others to follow the rules. I play the responsible card, all…the…time. Sure, it’s predictable and there is some comfort in that. For anyone, right? You operate in the comfort zone, play small, stay safe. Ends up being tasks before people. Before you know it, you’re living in a super clean, organized, house, all your bills are paid, you’re doing well at work, but you wake up one day to realize you are bored and…alone.

With the straight line, you get stuff done. In the pool, I’ll crank out my yards. Back and forth, the p Underwater lane lines.jpg.opt479x270o0,0s479x270 predictable path. Open water? I’m zigging and zagging and don’t swim as far as in the pool, but it’s so beautiful! Open water is where the adventure is. And I’m realizing that I want that for my life. I want the open water. I want to explore. To take the unknown road and discover something I may have never found otherwise. It’s a way to find new passions, to actually, fully, experience life instead of staying in my lane. To focus on people, not tasks, and people can be zig zaggy too, but I’m willing to take that chance. To share those adventures with someone I care about, to make memories.

So I’m making that promise to myself, to live in the open water. And I’ll be honest, it scares me and really, that’s ok. I encourage you to think about your own life, where are you swimming the straight line and where are you in open water? If you’re not getting in the open water, why not try?

August 28, 2016

What would you do if you knew you could not fail?

This quote, by famed minister Robert Schuller, is used all the time in inspirational quotes or speeches. I’ve always liked it and was thinking about what I would do today during Paddleboard Yoga. Stirring around in my head were happy memories from going to Boulder for the weekend and other adventures I still have on the drawing board in my head but on which I haven’t made a move.

I tend to think that I hold myself back from taking action, from taking risks, because the thought of failing gives me a fairly heavy dose of anxiety. No kidding, I strive to do things which I know I can accomplish. Things that are dependent only on me. It’s why I like individual sports. I’m responsible for my performance, for how well I “hit the bar.” I can be like that at work sometimes too. While I’ll always say yes to a project, I make darned sure I will succeed. While the thought of working collaboratively with others makes sense to me, and, in concept, is something I want to do, push comes to shove, I’m taking that puppy over. I realize this isn’t my healthiest thought pattern, but I own it. I work on it.

This morning I was doing SUP (Paddleboard) Yoga, which I love. It’s hard, my balance is not fantastic, and today I was really wobbly. I had the “opportunity” to cool off several times when I fell in the water. I’ve done SUP Yoga 4 times now through REI. Each time, the main instructor is Dyanna, who is awesome and who encourages me to try hard balancing poses. The last couple of times, I’ve been trying to do a headstand. Tried again today… more opportunities to get wet. Today in the midst of my efforts, the other instructor, Megan, told me to think about the journey not the destination. Another familiar quote, but one which always resonates with me.

And something clicked for me. It wasn’t the headstand, no, that’s well photo documented as not happening yet. What clicked is that I was trying something which, in all reality, I had a high chance of failing. (In my head right now and at that moment, mic drop) I tried, knowing the headstand is thus far elusive to me, and nothing bad happened. I took risk, I fell, and nothing bad happened. No one mocked me, I didn’t get hurt, I’m not on the SUP Yoga blooper role. Instead, I got encouraged for trying. I was proud of myself for merely making the attempt.

I thought about some of the other areas lately where I’ve been brave, taken a risk, and maybe failed a little, but still tried. And the world hasn’t stopped. When I went to Boulder, I had a great time, after having an anxiety attack standing in the Denver airport and nearly starting to cry. But I pushed forward. I’m in my class to become a certified coach, and it’s hard, and I feel like my first peer coaching session was a hot mess, but I’m pushing forward. I had a really hard, honest conversation with someone last week, and I don’t know where that will end up, but I was brave and I put myself out there.

In my head I so often think that I don’t take risks, that I keep myself in a safety bubble or safety zone. But now I don’t think that’s really true. If I can shift my mind to think of things I’ve tried, maybe failed, maybe not, but that I chose to experience nonetheless, couldn’t that go on the win side in my mind? If I could remember that even if a small part of the adventure is hard, or that I might not succeed, like my SUP Yoga headstand, but that overall I was still brave and took a chance, what else might I try? Where else have I had success but let the “fail” become how it’s defined in my mind?

There’s the challenge. I have a choice how I want to define and characterize my experiences. I can choose fail or I can choose brave and fun and success. In that light, wow! Many more successes, being very brave. So think about it, I’ll bet you are very brave, and that you’ve had a million wins! Make the shift and you’ll see it too.

What would you do if you knew you could not fail?

August 21, 2016

We all have a little mess…

I was thi Hot mess nking this week about emotions. Some people let it all hang out there, no guessing, and others, keep it nice and buttoned up. Emotion is a funny thing. Often times, we’re told not to be so emotional; told to stop crying; big girls don’t cry; told that negative emotion is wrong, or that we shouldn’t show it. I know for me, anger is an emotion I am very uncomfortable with in myself and others. Sadness isn’t on the top 10 list either. The truth is, I don’t know what to do with those emotions. I think society tells women that anger is not good and that we’re seen as weak if we’re sad, or crying. I’ve tried for a long time to live by that standard.

So how’s that working out for me? Crappy. I’m not perfect. Not by a long shot. And stuff makes me angry, and it makes me sad, as well as a wide range of emotions in between. But what do I do? Push it down, ignore it, redirect, try not to acknowledge it. I get frustrated, or irritable not angry, and at the other end, I am off, or out of sorts, not sad. Call a spade a spade Lisa, you get angry. It’s not a lot different for sadness. The deal is, in my striving for perfectionism (oh did I mention that? Yeah, got that going on too), I see those emotions as “less than.” In my mind, they show cracks, they show that I don’t always hold it together. And I do try to hold it together. I try to keep them on the inside. But as a result I don’t let people see the “real” me. That just leads to people knowing someone that I’m not, but if I show the real me? Well fear tells me they might not like me. So I keep shoving the emotion in.

I also think about my perception when I see those emotions in others. Sadness in others I can understand and have empathy for. Although truthfully sometimes the voice in my head wants to say “suck it up.” And at the other end of the spectrum, when I visibly see anger, it unnerves me. Literally, it causes me to feel enormously anxious and for knots to form in my stomach, even if it’s not directed at me. I wonder in my head what could be so wrong that you show that much emotion, that you would let anyone see you be angry. It’s seemed out of control to me, because, well, if you were a “good girl [or guy]” you wouldn’t let anyone see it.

I’m learning more and more that hiding my true emotion doesn’t help anything. I’ve experimented with letting myself show sadness, show that vulnerability, the tears. But it wrecks me. I’m exhausted. But I’m no less exhausted by trying to hold it all in. I’m starting to wonder if the people who show their emotions might be on to something. They’re being authentic. Showing how they really feel. That said, I think there’s a balance between expressing how you feel while respecting those around you.

In the end, I’ve concluded there’s nothing wrong with showing emotion. I know that when I share my emotions, by and large I end up feeling more at peace. We’re all on a journey and whether you see emotion on the outside or keep it tucked away on the inside, it’s still there. So we, I, need to remember that. Emotion is not bad, or wrong. Refusing to show emotion? Well that just keeps me hidden and “safe” but not known, not really understood. I’m choosing to show up, to let people see who I really am, cracks and all. It might be messy, but at least I’ll be true and real in the mess.

And then? I can ask others to help clean it up with me.

August 14, 2016

Knowing the difference

Here’s a few things I know about myself. I like things the way I like them, I’m fussy – truth. I can be a little tricky, much more of a daisy than I’d like to own up to. I like playing pretty and my eye Royal Arch Journey lashes. I love my early mornings of journaling and coffee at Starbucks. I’m a neat freak, trying to reform, but ask my kids, it’s a real thing. I make the bed, every day. I floss, and use mouthwash, leftover food taste in my mouth – that’s not happening. I arrive early for appointments, or when I meet people – it’s polite. I don’t like anger as an emotion in me, it doesn’t happen. Frustration happe
ns, irritation happens, but not anger (yes, I know I’m splitting hairs). I am independent. I am an athlete. I am passionate about athletic fitness – not gym fitness necessarily – but fitness outside, in God’s beautiful creation. I am emotional, I cry sometimes and sometimes more than others. I care deeply for people and want the best for them.

I also know that I am ok being alone. I like it, to some degree. I can do what I want to do, or not do, when I want to do it. That’s an adventure I’m on right now. A weekend alone…away from home. Wait, what? The away from home threw me for a loop. Maybe I’m ok being alone in my realm at home, with my home base to go back to when I make day trips. It gives me security. This trip was brave for me. I came to Boulder alone on Friday and have to be in Denver Sunday afternoon for work. It was the perfect time to make a little side trip. I was packed and good to go. But when I arrived, I felt overwhelming anxiety. What was that about?? I made myself push through it, and it’s been hard. Saturday I hiked for hours and it was beautiful, and I was at peace in nature, like I often am. Afterwards though, my not so friendly friend anxiety tried to come back. I’m aware it’s there, but I’m trying to blow it off, or at least make friends with it so it doesn’t get in my way.

All those things I know about myself, I like them – tricky stuff and all, I like being alone – sometimes, so why do I feel like this on a weekend where I’m working on being brave? I think what I’ve come to realize over the last couple weeks is that even though I’m ok to be alone, I’m lonely. All those things I like about me, I want to share them. I want to be sitting here talking with someone about how much fun today was, how beautiful it is here. I miss that. It’s something I’m aware of, and I have a lot of thoughts about it that are for another day.

What I do know though is that the feeling I have of wanting to lean in, it’s still there. I know that sometimes people will think that when you’re alone it means you’re lonely. But it doesn’t. I wasn’t lonely for a long time even though I was alone, for a lot of reasons. I think that in these moments, the best I can do is to lean in to what I have, the family, the friends, the passion. And really, that’s what we all should be doing anyways, leaning in to those we love and care about. When we do, when we have connection and love, loneliness will fade and we can enjoy where we are – at that moment.

August 7, 2016

I’m not broken…

I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of being broken. It’s a concept many people use to descr you-are-not-broken-72dpi ibe out human frailty, our human condition as a result of all that life brings. I hear a lot, particularly at church, that we’re all broken…and I rally against it.

Now don’t get me wrong, that’s not to say that I haven’t had a lot of “life,” a lot of things thrown at me, and a lot of things I just straight up stepped in. I’m not saying that I’m perfect by any remote stretch of the imagination. Seriously. I am constantly examining myself, looking at my thought processes, my reaction, my own behavior. I feel like a train wreck half the time. And I work on it. I seeking counsel, counselling, and advice from people I trust. I pray and I ask God about it.

I feel like the experiences I’ve had, my choices – good and not so good – have made me who I am. I believe the constant examination, though exhausting at times, leads to discovery. The constant chatter and voices in my head are still there, but I believe I’m gaining on them. I feel better able to call out when I’m letting myself go down a dark and dreary path and make a different choice.

But back to my original point, even though I know I’m made up of pieces that have been shattered, reassembled, readjusted and redesigned, I still fight against being broken. To me, there’s judgement associated with being broken, like I need to be fixed. To be honest, my self-assessment only recently led me to this. It feels like broken is a state of being wrong. And I wonder to myself why I look at it that way. Is it the way people have said it to me? Is it my own inner voices telling me that it’s a wrong way to be? I don’t know that anyone has ever told me it’s wrong, or bad, or not where you want to be. But I know I’ve said to someone close to me that I was not broken, that “I just wanted to be.” Even in saying that though, “just being” is a constant state of work, yet somehow it feels like a healthier place to start than broken.

I think a lot of times we (ok, me), attach our own meaning to words, to experiences. Wouldn’t it be easier if we didn’t feel the need to define, because defining often involves a degree of judgement? And that’s exactly what I’ve felt when referred to as broken. Instead of making it the line in the sand, I could have chosen to not make any judgement about the word or what I thought was the meaning at all. I could have chosen to hear it and ask questions to understand. I could have tried to understand what drove the message instead of discounting the messenger. Maybe whether I’m broken isn’t really the point at all and it’s really more about leaning in, and leaning on someone else, leaning on God. Something tells me that’s really what comes from being broken anyways.

July 30, 2016

Moving past the clutter

Last weekend I was in the San Francisco Bay Area for the first module of iPEC’s Coaching Certification training. An awesome weekend where I experienced a sense that what I was doing, learning, experiencing, was on track with my gifts, talents and the purpose God has for my life. I came home on a high that lasted all week – gotta love that!

As I always do, I think a lot about life, even in the midst of my training. Didn’t hurt that because we practiced coaching throughout the course, I felt like I was in therapy all weekend – I thought my brain would explode. On Sunday morning, I left my hotel early for a walk along the Bay Bridge Trail which I’d discovered on Saturday, it’s my favorite way to start the day! I love new adventures and I think it’s super cool to walk over the Bay. I’ve done it on the Golden Gate Bridge, so the Bay Bridge was calling me.

I had about an hour and a half to walk so I could get back and ready in time for class. No sweat (well, there was sweating), 6 miles-ish and that would certainly get me at least halfway across the bridge from where I started. One of the things I was excited about was walking on the new span of bridge that opened a couple years ago. Off I went and after making my way through the maze under the freeway I was on the bridge. If you don’t live around here, you may not know that after they opened the bridge, the next project was to take down the old bridge. It’s a steel, ugly thing that now is cluttered with equipment used in deconstructing it.

So there I was, on the bridge, walking, walking, walking. Seriously, when was I going to move past the old bridge and have an unobstructed view from the new span? Cut to the chase, I didn’t. I ran out of time and had to turn back.

And that was ok. But here’s what ran through my head. My life is on a new the bridge, so to speak. I finally feel like I’m on a path to live out my passion, my desire to help other people, to help them move their lives closer to where they want it to be. Making choices instead of letting life just happen to me. But as I walk on that new path, the bright and shiny path, I’m not free from the clutter of my life thus far. Granted, I’m making progress, a lot of it, but it’s still there. Occurred to me that it’s like the Bay Bridge. The new span is beautiful and you can walk on it, enjoy it, experience it, but at the same time, you have to deal with the deconstruction of the old span. They’re making progress on it, just like I’m making progress in my own life, but it’s not gone yet, even in the midst of finding my purpose.

I’m going to get there, I know I am, but it can’t be rushed, it’s on its own time schedule, God’s time schedule. Trying to move it any faster will just frustrate me, I don’t have control of the timing. But unlike my walk on the bridge, I won’t turn around. I’ve made a choice to move forward, and my clutter will be there for a while, truth is, even once I clear out the old stuff, more will appear. That’s part of the deal and it’s ok.

I’d enourage anyone moving through change, and truthfully, isn’t that all of us in one way or another, to think about the bridge. To not lose sight of the fact that you’re on the new span – celebrate the fact that you’re on the new span. The old is still there, but you’re making progress. It’s one step at a time, enjoy the walk.