Finding Direction

My friend is going through a struggle.

But this blog isn't about him. I have spent the last few months jealous of several people I know. They had offered meaningful support to friends, and I wished I could just like them. Suddenly found myself given an opportunity to offer this friend some support. I didn't remember the jealousy I have been holding until now, and I haven't compared what I wanted to accomplish if my time came with what I actually did until now.

And I think that is good. Because I didn't give any answers, nor did I ask pertinent, leading questions. I guess I asked a couple direct questions, and that may have been sufficiently challenging. Instead, I offered arguments based on my own dramas. I was making statements, I hoped, which could be seen as mind-talk on his behalf. At that moment I was expressing all the frustration of not knowing how to handle the situation, of all the pitfalls one could fall into if handled in certain ways. I wanted to express, through the use of my imaginative drama, all the possible courses of action, connecting and disconnecting, at his disposal. My hope was this; by being in this place for him, he could find a way to disassociate and thereby find the path he truly wanted to take.

I am not sure if it was effective, but I realize it was not the way I wanted to handle the opportunity when I was given it. I have wanted to emulate the impressive ways others have shown support. I was jealous of their insight, of their tactics when engaging. I knew, however, that my friend wasn't looking for depth, but resolution. He was frustrated, suspicious, worried, and he wanted to find the path out of that. He wanted bolstering without pandering. He wanted to locate his own insight through the fog of his mind-talk. He wanted to work out where he was and why, so he could remap where he wanted to go. My stand wasn't adversarial. Quite the contrary, I joined his frustration; pointing out all the injustice as well as the pitfalls. I reached out and wrangled my own drama and forced it to regurgitate all the spew I would have felt were I in his shoes. And I made that leashed demon heel, so I could show him what it looked like.

I spoke to him a moment ago and asked if that was support enough. He assured me it was just as he wanted. He didn't need to know how to find his direction, he only needed to know where he was.

My support wasn't as glossy as that of which I have been jealous. It was, however, mine. And it was valuable. Emulating someone else's style is insincere. And my demon's are not just a hindrance; they can be a tool. When I practice noticing the path I am on, when I stop and look around, I develop a skill that is valuable. It is something I can offer others that is uniquely mine.

The First Step

I spend a lot of time hiding. It has taken 30+ years of my life to realize it, but here I am, seeing more clearly than I ever have before, watching myself run away and hide.

I have heard so many cliched statements about how difficult growth can be: The first step is the hardest, knowing is half the battle, leopard can't change his spots, etc. I don't know how beneficial these statements are, they all seem to imply a powerless condition is inevitable. I guess that much is true, but it is a perceived powerlessness, self imposed.

Having said that, it is real, nonetheless. Perhaps more real than any alternative. Perhaps the only real truth among those statements.

What I am facing, now, is the challenge of not just realizing that truth, but making the choice to NOT be powerless. But I don't want to give that up. Powerlessness is not only comfortable and safe, it requires less effort. I am talking about complacency. Complacent with a way of thinking, with a lifestyle.

So, what does it mean to be lazy? I have in front of me the tools to build a better life for myself, but don't have the ambition. Why not? Is it because I am happy? I see how other people live, have even tasted that in small doses, and I crave it still. So why hesitate? Because it would require effort I am not willing to put forth. Why? What is there to lose, and what might I gain? Logically, there is no excuse, and I am hard-pressed to come up with one. So, why?

I envy driven people, even as I recognize how that can be as detrimental as complacency. Too much drivenness and you lose sight of the reasons, too much complacency and you lose contact with the opportunities.

But rather than pity myself and wallow in envy, I wish to explore the reasons why. My mother said I was always complacent, never concerned about what clothes I wore, always ready to follow direction. I was a mild child. Until school, when my complacency was challenged. Homework was an issue. I never did it. I was content with understanding the subject and being able to adequately utilize the knowledge. I had no need to continue to process it over and over. Even now, my mind rebels at such tasks; I will sit and watch a blank wall before studying for a test, the irony being I can read a novel for several days in a row. My attention span slips through my grasp like a newly landed trout. Am I A.D.D.? A counselor in college told me no, yet a Discovery channel show tells my mother yes. Does that matter? Part of me wants it to, because it is an excuse to stop trying. While another part says it doesn't matter, I still have control, I notice I rebel against that. I don't want control, I want to let that go. I don't want the struggle, I just want to exist. I want to be happy, but I don't want to work for it. I want respect, but I don't want to earn it.

I want to grow, but I have a multitude of obstacles, and logical reasons, and cleverly imbedded habits, that play me like a mark in a confidence game. I have tools, though, tools I can use to alter those habits, and debunk those logic-arguments. Once I argued with a friend before I received these tools, and told her I already knew the secret; self-discipline is the secret. And I didn't have it. But I accepted her challenge, learned the tools, and examined myself critically. I have since drawn this conclusion: The tools can be used to find motivation, the motivation needed to use the tools. It is a self-contained loop.

My boggle is “how do I enter the loop”? Another friend tells me, “just do it!” Piece of cake, but he has self-discipline, he has motivation. He is, in fact, easily driven, so for him it is an easy switch to turn on. Self discipline may be a habitual way of thinking. Part of me hopes it is, but also dreads it, because even as habits can be learned over time, that would require enough self-discipline to instill it. That much self-discipline wouldn't require the effort.

So... is this the end of the story? Logically one cannot pick themselves up off the ground, there is no reaction without action. Or do I recognize a confidence game being played? It certainly has the tell-tale signs, and more introspection leads me to believe that, yes, this is simply another line of excuses, another twist of logic. Well done! Only... the logic seems sound. Now what?

I can hear my friend now “So you want it easy instead of hard. Why?” Seems silly to me. Why would anyone want a struggle? What is there to prove? I don't mind exploring, but I could care less who is impressed by my struggle (another con-tactic?). Ah, good observation on my part. Maybe there are plenty of con-tactics I could come up with... the meaning once I wade past all the bullshit my mind is going to place before me, the end result would be, simply... just do it. Just take the step, the step that will lead to many other steps, which will lead to all the things in life you want. Just take the step, the one which requires effort, and self-disciple, all the traits you don't have but could if you only took that step. Fine, I can take that step. I can try anything once. I can motivate myself into a frenzy and take that step! I can find the motivation, staple a picture of a better life to my forehead, load the car with inspirational cd's, and tattoo "You Rock" on my chest, backwards. I can take that first step. I can take the FUCK out of it!

Now take another.

Seems the first step isn't the hardest. Nope. The second one is.

Beginnings

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; “
Robert Frost -

You're walking along when suddenly things seem different. You look around and, without preamble, realize that you are, actually, looking around. You turn and look behind you and see, really see, where you have been. You see what you passed by, the path you took, the obstacles that failed to deter you. You look and see, with the clarity of hindsight, how you addressed those obstacles and moved beyond them. And you realize, because now you are truly looking and finally are able, you didn't see everything.

So you look ahead, now, with the new found wisdom of clarity. You see the path before you, and squint to make out all the obstacles. You formulate a plan in your head; a plan for each one, infallibly based on lessons from the path behind. Except, in the distance, you can't see all the obstacles. You don't have a way to tell what lies ahead, not completely. The path behind may give you clues, but you are just now seeing them.

It isn't about looking ahead in preparation, or behind in regret and pride. Look around you now. The one lesson you failed to learn was to see where you were in the moment.

It's ok to wander. Its ok to explore. Take the moment when you become aware and use that awareness to see what lies around you, now. The path behind is, well, behind you. The path ahead is unknown. Enjoy where you are now. There is no other time to do so.