The Power of Maybe

Black and white thinking, all or nothing, and catastrophizing were descriptors of me.

I used to think if I worried about or thought about everything enough, I could control it. In some ways, maybe I took expect the best, plan for the worst too literally. In reality, I would just worry about everything and drive myself insane. One day, I learned “expecting nothing”. When I found that too hard, I began expecting everything. I realized Dr Ian Malcolm knew what was up and chaos theory wasn’t a cool notion in a movie. If you lose the dinosaurs, Jurassic Park is life. What I mean is, uhh…life…uh…finds a way.

Every moment in my life where I thought I couldn’t go on, it was the worst possible ___, I’ve gone on. Adoption, abortion, abuse, heartbreak, my life is the very definition of chaos. It’s hysterical, because I’m the most Type A, controlling person on the surface. Yet, that is the very nature of life. Ordered Chaos. It all depends on perspective, or magnification if you think about it. I will always find, at some point, I will look back at those moments and smile with realization at how much -er they made me. Stronger, smarter, classier (that’s a lie), whatever. This is teaching me to let go. I am not in control of this process. I never was. Not for all my planning, not for all my Types, not for all my anxiety. That’s when I finally understood expect nothing.

If you think about it, do you even really control your breath? Who beats your heart? Do you? How do you do it? Your very life depends on mechanics most of us don’t really know, yet we stress about grocery shopping, or green paper that we all know is not actually real. Someone else tells us this is important. We work for someone else and make someone else richer. These were the things that were stealing my life away from me. My true lottery winnings.  Again, we all get a 1 in 80 to 1800 million shot (cum shot, in this case… haha) to exist on this planet, and in my reality, I was making other people’s dreams come true and grinding my heart and mind into mush with anxiety and the illusion that all of this meant a damn.

Does it mean a damn? Maybe. Maybe not. Who the hell am I to say? Who the hell are you to say?

Who beats your heart? Why are you here? What makes your heart beat faster?

These questions make it easier for me to get out of bed every day. I have no answers, maybe I never will, but maybe I will.

Jesus said to be like a child. A child approaches the world with curiosity and wonder – not anxiety and worrying about bills, green paper, and dishes. A child would ask who beats his heart. A child could tell you instantaneously what he wants to be when he grows up, as we will tell him to sit still and be quiet and learn to be a miserable adult like most of us. I think maybe we all need to start learning from them, instead of the other way around. Maybe I’m wrong. Who knows.

What I do know is this: I know nothing. I am no one. I expect nothing. I cannot see the finish line so I cannot tell you if anything that happens is actually good or bad anymore. I used to think I knew, but the worst things that ever happened to me turned out to be the best things because they turned me into this woman…this brilliant, genuine, authentic woman typing here now. I would not trade a moment of suffering or sorrow or yesterdays if it would change who I am in this present moment. The here and now is all I have, and that is where I have peace.

I’ll end with this:

I’m having another rough week for reasons I don’t need to waste words on. In another life, I would have let it eat me alive, and I would have ruminated on all the reasons why it was my fault, and I would have built it all up and ultimately, I’m sure I would have created some lovely shit shows for myself. I have come to see that if I focus on something, I’ll make it happen. Don’t believe me? Get a craving for food and tell me you don’t get it in short order. Life is not that complicated. It..uhh..finds..a way…

My coping skills are: journaling, music, driving in my car and loudly singing said music, yoga, writing, and meditation. In another life, I had none of these. Anyhoo, at first, I was a mess. I was overthinking, on the verge of a panic attack, I was twitching, and putting the hot in hot mess. So I drove. I sang. I did this for two hours until I felt better. I got myself completely lost, and I had to pee so badly. I’m talking my eyes are watering. I haven’t seen a Wawa, and I am trying so hard to not think about peeing, but it hurts.  I’m singing one of my favorite songs. I was belting it out, and I accidentally peed a little bit cause I’m a Mom and things just ain’t what they used to be. I laughed hysterically, what the hell can you do right? I mean, that’s how it goes. Maybe I had to accidentally pee myself to make it the rest of the ride? Maybe I needed a reminder that I’m only human and to lighten up? Maybe the best part is knowing I would never have taken care of myself like that before, and that’s really amazing.

Maybe the best part of being alive is the very ebb and flow of life I was so anxious about in the first place.

Other Writing:

• What is love?
• The Sperm Lottery
• Old & Busted: “We Just Didn’t Work” ~ New Hotness: DSM-V Breakups!!!!

In case you’re wondering – this is the song I peed myself to

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