I know that in my last couple posts, I may have seemed very dramatic. I mean, who calls someone being unprofessional a “disaster?” It could be a lot worse, right? So much worse. Partly because I chose not to go into detail, and partly because I shared my immediate reaction, I know I sounded like I was exaggerating the whole thing.
While I am okay with that, because my work and my reputation are important to me, I will admit that the last few days have distanced me from things enough to realize a little about what the real struggle is for me: control. Without, still, going into more detail, I will say that I had idealized this opportunity and its potential to the point where I was blindsided.
Now, I’m not saying that we should always anticipate the worst so that we’re prepared for the inevitability of things going wrong, but as far as preparation goes, I had none. And for me, this spoke less about this situation individually and more about my life over all. It said to me that although I have been telling myself for many months that I had a certain trust that things would work out, I hadn’t really put that into practice outside of my own thinking. Does that make sense? Although I was walking around telling myself I had faith, I’d never come to a point wherein I actually HAD to have it. You might say it wasn’t tested.
I think we do that a lot, and I know I do. Because word is always easier to understand than action, because “trust” rolls so easily off our tongues, we become a little proud. “I have faith” we say, and then we move on, seemingly untouchable. Sure, there is nothing wrong with that. Reassurance isn’t a bad thing. But just saying something and believing it with the words alone being the only proof that it is true, is not really truth at all, is it? The real truth comes in the aftermath, in your reaction, in the process between the moment of the blindside to the moment that you realize what life (or God, or your faith, or your beliefs, or the universe) is really trying to show you.
So, the events of last week aren’t really about work at all. Admittedly, I still am not sure of what I’m going to do about the whole thing. I have some big movess to make, that’s for sure. I am feeling a lot of pressure and worry and that probably won’t wholly go away. But I have learned one thing so far (and there’s more to learn, I’m sure) and that is that I have to turn it over. In my case, I feel like I can turn it over to God, because that is the foundation of what I believe. Whatever it is for anyone else, though, is just as powerful. It is not so much about where you’re turning it over to as it is that you’re actually following through on the action itself. You are surrendering control, or the belief that you had the control to begin with, as the case may be.
As I said, I know this isn’t a fix. I’m not looking for that. I know I have a choice, now and always, and that there’s still a chance that I will choose wrong. I guess I have that to look forward to. But what I think I also have to look forward to is a better practice of what it means, for me, to actually have faith that things will work out, and to still believe that even when they don’t.
{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
Your ability to analyse situations and your reaction to them are truly admirable. Not only does this practice make you more prepared to deal with future situations, it makes you more self-aware. I could learn a thing or two from you.
Wow. I second Barbara’s remarks – you’re so insightful. Isn’t it amazing how we can lose faith without even realizing it? I feel like that was the story of my dating life for many years.
I would add to your faithful outlook that it’s also important to trust your gut. Tap into it and heed its warnings. And then have faith in your assessment.
The belief that you had control in the first place…
Yes, that’s something I am slowly embracing.
Funny how we all somehow believe we have some sort of control, when so much of our lives is out of our control. We should probably only worry about the stuff that we can effect or change, and whilst this sounds good, in practice letting go is a big test in itself and the first difficult part.
Sounds like you are getting it together Lesley, despite (maybe even due to) a few bumps and roadblocks along the road.
And here I would have just punched the wall. You are a patient lady, my friend.
“Just this” has become part of my days when I am dealing with difficulty. It is just this, right here, right now. Today I had to begin teaching my daughter that dead ends are really the end of the road, they are the chance to turn left or right or turn around or change directions and move onto uncharted ground or grow wings and fly and dig tunnels… Options!! A challenge is not an “I cna’t” situation but a… “wow, what else can I try?” situaiton. Hard for an adult and really out there for a ten year old… but the best thing about life is often that we do have choices and we can change and at the end of the day, there is that voice inside that never worries that the sun will come up in the morning and that there will be air to breathe and that the coffee will be hot and the ice cream frozen! And listen to me – a poster child for letting it go and knowing that today, right now, there is just this… and in each moment there is everything and nothing and I have to trust that this, in some way makes sense!
And letting go when it comes to my child’s life outside my house is one of the hardest lessons that I have to learn. Let go and she will be okay. Let go and yes she will hate men for a good chunk of her life but you can’t control that or fix it or hug it away… it isn’t yours (mine) so let go…*sigh*