Week 14
“The willingness comes from the pain.”
I recently listened to an episode of the podcast “The Good Life Project,” featuring the writer Anne Lamott. In a discussion about surrendering and in stopping the rabid attempts to try to make things work out the way we think they should (or “always be pissed off and exhausted”), Lamott shares the following saying she’s heard in recovery meetings: “the willingness comes from the pain.”
I think I’m finally there. The pain has led me to all sorts of willingness: the willingness to make my needs a priority, to put myself and what I want out there, to let go of attempts/ lack of attempts/ walls built to protect my ego, to admit I need/ ask for help, to more deeply listen to and trust my instincts.
In thinking about all the questions of my future, I was praying the other day, holding onto an image of asking questions and sending hopes to a God “out there.” I was hit with the idea that I was praying to the wrong place, and that the God I was praying to was much closer. I suddenly sensed that I needed to shift my focus from praying “out there,” and start listening to everything being communicated within me.
Which brings me to a decision, that I will not yet communicate but have already made. This decision has been weighing on my mind for many years in the form of “if/ when?” In making the decision for myself and separating it from difficult conversations I will need to have in the future, I feel free. It comes from a place of listening to my gut, what my body is telling me, as well as the voice that has continually gotten louder over the years and is practically now screaming inside my head.
I am now moving from the imprisoned place of asking “will I/ when will I?” (out there) to the freeing place of “I will” (made within). So now the question is simply how?” The trick in asking the how will be staying the course of will even when the how isn’t immediately presenting itself.
My friend is visiting me this week, in town from California. Upon her arrival and our mutual exhaustion, I got out two glasses, filling each with ice. Then I realized I should actually ask her if she would like ice, so did, to which she responded: “decisions have already been made, and we need to just keep moving forward.” I laughed out loud, and realized that this is my motto for the next few months.
Decisions have been made, and we need to just keep moving forward.
Of course there is no guarantee that the decision itself will work out how I want it to work out. But in not making it, I would be failing to act, which at this point in my journey is a much more dangerous and painful mistake than any negative consequences that come from making— and sticking to— the decision.
It has been a week light on documentable failures, but big on realizations about failures, which brings me to the fail of the week:
failure to frame the issue
“Whoever frames the argument wins the argument.” I remember our college Mock Trial team attorney/ coach telling us this, as I frequently do when listening to courtroom dramas or political debates.
This week I got news about the future of where I work, which, depending on the angle from which I viewed it, I found concerning at best and deeply disturbing at worst. I have become so much stronger at voicing my opinions, but in trying to communicate all the possibilities of where I could see the decisions leading, I sounded less like an intelligent, strategic employee and more like a rambling zealot trying to warn people of an impending apocalypse that would fail to manifest.
This led to platitudes about how the decisions being made would not affect me or my role, how “really nothing is changing,” and the direction to write down a list of my concerns to be later addressed. In hindsight, I realized that my failure was one of adequately framing the issue. But in realizing this fail, I can better prepare for future arguments I will make, and how to frame the issue— and possible solutions— in a way that will hopefully ultimately help lead to the highest good for all involved.