Staying Brave When Life Goes Well

Tender, surrendered and still curious. Some days this is where I live. The world feels fresh and new.

I didn’t have to change jobs, houses or countries to get here and I’ve been a while.

There were no passports, applications or petitioning of anyone for anything. The sweetness of life feels present more often and I no longer have the feeling that I’m waiting for my true life to begin.

It’s glorious. Except a new fear can creep in.     How can I make it last?

I’m open, tender and undefended, which makes the colors are neon and I’m able to smell everything. And, I’m aware I could be crushed – easily.

For years, I was a climber and growth was me moving uphill. I was aching to attain some new skill or ability or to unburden myself of something. How can I stretch now without the fight and battle? How can I stay hungry, edgy and alive – while happy?

There is stillness and joy, comfort and peace so I don’t want to disturb or rattle my world too much. But I also want to make love and art. Does it have to be a choice?

Do the stakes have to be high and the outcome uncertain to feel alive? Does the soul ever care for momentary comfort when needing to be heard? I’ve rarely been given an itinerary for my next lesson even when I’ve asked to have one. I feel alive and uneasy…

So many roads stretch out before me. I’ve got the 3D maps but nothing plugged in as a GPS with final destination. I’m circling and getting lost which is o.k. because I’m not in hellish traffic, running late and the pit stops are fantastic. But still, I’m on a road and not knowing where it’s going to end up.

And at some point I’m going to get low on gas.

I’m enjoying the scenery and not needing to ask, too often, are we there yet?

At the same time I’m drinking in routines and ordinary pleasures which are also miracles.

Last night I soaked in sweet laughter at my neighbor’s house. With her, at a table, is where I’ve sat a hundred times. This time though, she insisted my daughter and I come over for cake as her family celebrated her 50th wedding anniversary. The grandchildren who were once toddlers are now pre-teen.

The leaves and branches of her family tree are foliage which have shaded my family. Is this what Anne Lamott means when she says the only prayer we need is Wow and Thank You?  It’s so sweet I’m hesitant to rock my core with anyone or anything that takes me too far.

How do I balance newness and familiarity?

I ride both sides of the see saw. Sometimes I lose my balance or play it too safe. I want to be lifted off the ground and also to control the tempo.

Life never works like that.

Can I trust the center will remain no matter which end I ride? I observe the indifference of wood. See how the stiff plank doesn’t bend or break no matter who or what hops on? or off?

I’m taking notes but not yet as solid.

“This will go well or badly” can be said about any new risk, love or venture

And yet –  avoidance only assures it won’t go at all…

I fear being fearful more than getting hurt. But that doesn’t mean I’m not nervous living without a retirement plan or assurances.

Sometimes I am brave and willing to risk a dive into ocean water with a running gallop.  More often I am at the shore, in pants rolled up, letting only my toes get licked wet. And it’s more than fear it’s also not wanting to be greedy, to rush the next adventure and to miss what’s here.

The moments I treasure tend to involve other people when once they were more solitary and private.

My friend Kathy says, “If you find a peaceful or joyful place even once you know it’s there and you can find your way back.”

I’m trusting her on that. That will be my mantra. But also I am afraid.

And yet, I’m walking towards life with a brave and open heart. I know joy is as likely as sorrow and the wood remains the same no matter the tilt or direction.

Gulp. And yay.