Two weeks ago I woke up with a current of excitement pulsating through me. Three full months of unstructured time lay ahead. I was standing on a brink of possibilities: reading books I've been wanting to get to, sorting through decades of photos and creating a hallway photo gallery (that I purchased frames for seven years ago,) swimming my way toward a smaller clothes size... The only question was what to do first! As of this morning, I've begun, well, uh, ahem: none of the above.
The word brink often carries negative connotations: brink of disaster, brink of despair. Its close cousin edge is more glamorous. Living on the edge evokes images of adventurers, people who climb mountains, bungee jump, parachute out of planes, swim the English Channel. As a card-carrying member of the Wimp Club, I also consider people who camp out in tents or swim in Florida's rivers and ponds - the same places alligators swim - to be living on the edge. Such dramatic endeavors can put life and limbs at risk, but adventurers seem to perceive the dangers as adrenaline fuel. Perhaps if my subconscious interpreted my position as being on the edge of possibilities, I might now be fully immersed into at least one of the activities I've fantasized about doing "when I have time." But no. I seem to have a brink-mentality.
Honestly, I'm always standing on the precipice of something. I've lived for decades on Procrastination Point, a summit overlooking Stress Slide and Roller-Coaster Ravine. Ironically, this is a location I can only get to by choosing it, and it's been my on-going resolution since high school to relocate to more level terrain. I'm still putting that off.
Though I've crossed into new frontiers during my life - On My Own, Moving Across the Country, Couple Domain, and Re-calibration, to name a few - it's safe to say I didn't plunge into any of these endeavors with full abandon. My mode of operation is to approach major choices (and many minor ones) the same way I get into a swimming pool: one inch at a time. A tortoise approach has its advantages, of course. It allows for time to adapt, to work through the what-ifs, to make back-up plans. The ginormous drawback is that time keeps moving even when I'm not. Adaptation and back-up plans are useless if the opportunities pass me by.
I have been busy these past 14 days. Okay, maybe not so much busy as diverted. Pinterest. Facebook. Flipping through several months worth of magazines (because I can't recycle them until I at least look through them.) Watching the season finales of my favorite shows. Nothing wrong with any of these pasttimes, but three months from now, if I hadn't done them, I wouldn't feel regretful. So today I stand on nearly the same brink as I did two weeks ago. The potential for turning some of my when-I-have-time dreams into reality is still there. I just need to...
Honestly, I'm always standing on the precipice of something. I've lived for decades on Procrastination Point, a summit overlooking Stress Slide and Roller-Coaster Ravine. Ironically, this is a location I can only get to by choosing it, and it's been my on-going resolution since high school to relocate to more level terrain. I'm still putting that off.
Though I've crossed into new frontiers during my life - On My Own, Moving Across the Country, Couple Domain, and Re-calibration, to name a few - it's safe to say I didn't plunge into any of these endeavors with full abandon. My mode of operation is to approach major choices (and many minor ones) the same way I get into a swimming pool: one inch at a time. A tortoise approach has its advantages, of course. It allows for time to adapt, to work through the what-ifs, to make back-up plans. The ginormous drawback is that time keeps moving even when I'm not. Adaptation and back-up plans are useless if the opportunities pass me by.
I have been busy these past 14 days. Okay, maybe not so much busy as diverted. Pinterest. Facebook. Flipping through several months worth of magazines (because I can't recycle them until I at least look through them.) Watching the season finales of my favorite shows. Nothing wrong with any of these pasttimes, but three months from now, if I hadn't done them, I wouldn't feel regretful. So today I stand on nearly the same brink as I did two weeks ago. The potential for turning some of my when-I-have-time dreams into reality is still there. I just need to...
JUMP!