I admit it. I’m a dreamer. I love to lose myself in visions I’ve meticulously created, each detail sewn together with the delicate point of my mind’s needle. I move right in to this mind palace of moments, dreams, and memories and as I stroll up and down each hallway filled with images, I pause and focus on my surroundings. I soak it all up with unquenchable thirst and turn each corner in search of more, always in search of more. Each room holds the mystery of the future and yet turning the knob and pushing the door open is an action as familiar to me as the hand that reaches for the switch that will bathe me in light.
And much like the lines on this aging hand, past, present and future all reside in this universe. Each thrives separately, yet I am often surprised by the repetitive pattern I sometimes encounter. Like paintings lingering on these corridor walls, the same hopes and dreams resurface time and time again. The same mistakes make multiple appearances. One hallway meets another and then another, each turn can either take me back in time or propel me into a future I long for without providing direction on how to reach it. Inevitably, I reach a crossroad at the end of this inner road and find myself turning my head to either side, squinting in hopes of catching a glimpse of what each hallway holds – a hint of how many doors await in either direction.
I turn to the right hoping it is the right choice, all the while doubting myself and simultaneously lighting the adventurous spark within me. I want to move forward, continue in search of…of what exactly? I take a step back and turn to the left wondering if by a simple process of elimination this is the right direction. I stand rooted to the ground, hesitant to make a decision, unwilling to lift my foot and take that step. Moving in either direction doesn’t bring a sense of comfort so I stand as seconds turn into minutes, minutes into hours. I lean my head toward the ceiling, eyes closed and will myself to make a decision, choose a direction.
I can’t. I take a deep breath, slowly lower my head and gradually open my eyes. I am amazed at what I see as a complete sense of calm envelopes me. Before me is the most picturesque garden right outside the small round window that greets me. How did I miss this? How did I not see such beauty and tranquility right before my very eyes? Was I so focused on choosing a direction that I overlooked the wonder that stood before me, patiently waiting to be acknowledged?
We sometimes find ourselves at stages in our life where we feel compelled, pressured to make a decision one way or another.
We believe we must act quickly for fear we will miss out. And yet, sometimes the best decision is to just be still.
Have you ever found yourself in a similar situation? How did you handle it?