When I got home from work today I had an urge to drop everything I was carrying on the floor. So I did.
I'm not going to pretend this hasn't happened before. I'm generally pretty tidy but I do leave things laying around when I'm in a hurry, absorbed in something, or without energy to put it in its place. But this urge to drop everything was different. It felt more like defiance. And release.
It felt good. So I dropped everything and left it there.
I'll clean it up later, I thought.
I ate some dinner then met up with a friend and went for a run. I did some groceries. I returned home.
As I opened the door, the pile on the floor made me smile.
This is strange I thought. Whatever, I will leave it there for now.
I poured myself a glass of wine and sat down to write a blog post. I couldn't focus. I got up. I had a strange desire to dump out the bags that made up the pile on my floor. You are crazy, I thought. Then I giggled (like a crazy person would) and proceeded to dump all the bags on the floor. Including my purse. It felt AWESOME.
Life is messy I thought, my floor should be too. I giggled (again, like a crazy person).
I stopped. Life really is messy.
Something about this thought hit me hard. I had always known life was messy, uncontrollable, and unpredictable in many ways but I realized that some part of me had refused to truly believe it. I put on some music and got out my paints. I wanted to make a mess. To let out what I was feeling, and my thoughts that were not yet completed formulated.
Here's what I created:
I have been trying to put everything neatly into its place for as long as I can remember. It is rare that I take something on if I don't have a high degree of certainty about how it will go and what the outcome will be. I try with all my might to control every minute of everything I do. And I try to fix everything that does not end up going the way I plan. But the more I try to fix it, control it, and make it certain, the more I keep getting hit with the mess. It is like life has been trying to remind me to stop trying so hard. Life will always be messy.
And I've continued fighting anyways. Although I don't want to admit it, I know I am destined to lose the battle.
But maybe losing is not really a loss. I had a great night.
Maybe letting go of control and embracing all this mess is really a win. A win for life, of course. But isn't life why we are here? Why fight against it?
Maybe we can be on the same team. Maybe it doesn't have to be a battle after all.
Wouldn't that be the ultimate win.
Live the mess. Love the mess.
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