My life has been blessed with options. From where to eat and what to wear to which job to work and who to hang with. Choices galore. Oh the places I’ll go!
Blessings as curses anyone?
Over. Whelmed!
My plate looks like an all-you-can-eat Vegas buffet, and I don’t know where to start. And yet that’s not true, because of course, I do. Somewhere, in the pit of my guts, there is a knowing. There are answers. But my brain—the place where feeling and knowing collides with logic and action—is so blinded by tasks and thinking and what-ifs that I can’t see a thing.
I think we sometimes get so caught up that we become paralyzed with how to proceed, so we either a) don’t or b) freak out until something forces us into submission.
Al always says, “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.”
I have no interest in eating elephants (i.e., I am not interested in making decisions, so I often choose option b. Except for when I opt for a).
If this is true (it is) ...
The question isn’t: What if I choose the wrong thing?
...
The questions are: Am I willing to take responsibility for what I want? Am I brave enough to go for it? What happens if my choices hurt people I love? Do I dare to shine and show myself?
I think that as we grow up, we turn the volume down on what we know. And I don’t mean about things like algebra or chemistry (OK, bad examples), but the real knowing, the inner gut wisdom. Quieting this isn’t necessarily a bad thing—it’s a survival skill—we silence our innate wisdom in favor of assimilation, cultural connection and being a part of a tribe. We learn the rules to play the games to stay alive. It’s called socialization. Or psychology. Or anthropology. Or whatever academic discipline you majored in and feel inclined to name it.
It’s ironic that our intuitive nature has us silence our inner wisdom for purposes of survival. But intuition was never logical—it’s a far more dynamic. We’re not meant to understand it. It’s nonsensical. That’s the point.
Can you imagine that you always have the answers? That you know everything? That there is a direct line to exorcising the drama?
Imagine how vulnerable you’d be in asking for what you want.
Imagine the courage it takes to be exactly who you are.
Imagine the responsibility that comes from saying you’re going to go for it.
Imagine the responsibility that comes from saying you’re going to go for it.
But. If you’re willing to dare: Get honest and know what you know. We always know. We know what we want to eat and what we don’t, we know who we love and when we’re done. We know what jobs we want and when it’s time to quit. We know when we want to see a friend and when we’d rather stay home. The problem is that we’ve spent 30, 40, 50 or more years muffling our inner knowing in order to play the game, make the money, love the person and go the places. We have so much at stake. So much to lose. So many to disappoint.
But.
What if we had so much to receive? So much to win? So many to inspire?
Opening into honesty isn’t easy, and I can’t promise you that it’ll keep you alive—though it will force you to live. We make a hundred thousand choices on any given day. What if we chose more from a more honest place? What if we listened more? What if we released guilt or fear or anxiety or [your baggage here] in favor of embracing what we know to already be true?
Maybe if we all did that, we could make a whole new tribe.
The next time you’re caught making a tough decision, see if you can connect with what’s already there. Drop your pros and cons list. Don’t look around. Just sit still and tap in. What do you know?
Receive your answers, not because you should, but because you can. They're already yours.
Receive your answers, not because you should, but because you can. They're already yours.
