Fuzzy Pictures

I've always struggled with decisions. It may not always appear that way, because I don’t like to appear indecisive. I have a hard time when I see it in other people, so I know it’s because it’s a reflection of what’s happening inside of me. I have long taken the approach that more questions and more information are good things to pursue in the hopes of making the “best” choice. But there still seems to be the struggle between listening to your head and your heart. It seems to me they are rarely in total agreement. And how does your “gut” figure into the discussion anyway? Is it different than your conscience? Or is that one more voice to add to the mix? Sometimes it just seems to be the case of too many cooks.

Getting a better picture of the things that motivate me and my decision making processes are still in the beginning stages. It seems to me that the heart of my decision struggle has a lot to do with abandonment. Whether real or just perceived I seem to always come back to the choice of stay or go. It can apply to relationships, of course, but it can also apply to friends, jobs, and almost anything else. There are times when I've decided to stand my ground and stay and I end up staying too long in situations that become more and more toxic. There are also times when I get a sense of inevitability and decide to cut my losses and move on, only to feel an almost immediate sense of regret and failure.

In truth, this doesn't happen so much in my professional life or my friendships. For whatever reason, I seem to have a clearer picture when it comes to those choices. For my professional life I do tend to stay and not constantly job hop and I feel that it’s worked out fine. I suppose I accept the high and lows of motivation and creativity at work as just part of life. Even when I try to imagine a different job in the same field or in a different field altogether, I don’t really get much past this stage. Jobs seem to find me, and I just go with it. Why mess with something that works? At this stage, it seems that the only reason to change is based on money, and I don’t chase money.

I also rarely let go of friendships. I do sometimes let them fade away without making an effort to stay “current”, but I also think that just life too. I keep a very small circle (my circle of 8) and the rest can just come and go as they please. While I feel as though I have a lot of friends, I don’t find that I need to be surrounded by them. Why is that? Sometimes I think it was because I moved around a lot as a kid and felt like I had to say goodbye a lot. Why get overly attached when I don’t know how long I’ll even be there? Besides, I always had the constant company of my sisters and brother. I was never really alone no matter where I was. I’m betting that was helpful. LOL…

No, no. The harder choices are always of a more personal nature. That’s where the fuzzier picture is and where all the voices want to weigh in and be heard. My head wants to be detached and rational. My heart is the eternal optimist. My gut is overly cautious and paranoid. My conscience is a terrible critic. With all of the different input coming in from different directions, I wonder how any decisions get made at all. Sometimes it’s impulsive, trying to avoid mental committee meetings and just do something now. Sometimes it’s weary. I've thought about it so long that I’m not sure what the original issue was or care about the outcome anymore.


The mental processing work continues. I’m trying to incorporate new thoughts about blame, projection, ego, and the need to be “right.” How can I expect to be understood by others in my life, when I am still discovering things about myself?

Reframing

For the past 2 weeks I've been trying to be open to new ways of looking at things. I hit what felt like a critically low point. I was online looking for something that would provide me with some insight, some sort of solace and then it appeared: a reference to a book. Now, I've done plenty of self-help reading over the years. It can be interesting, but I find that there is also a lot of crap that you have to wade through in order to get to the helpful little nuggets of wisdom in these things. Still, I tried to keep an open mind and thought to myself “Okay, let’s try this one more time.”  I’m glad I did.

I read the first 2 chapters and I immediately felt better. Why was that? Was I so desperate to find an answer, a plan that I latched onto to this as a miraculous truth? Did I just like the style in which it was written? Or did I really feel like this concept had some merit? I decided to keep reading. Normally, I tear through new books at fast pace, but I took my time with this one. There was a lot of information to absorb and I didn't feel like I could really do it justice unless I slowed down. It took me about a week to get through it and it’s one of those books that I will most likely read a few more times just to make sure I understand all of it.

I think one of the things in the book that caught my eye was a single word: reframing. Earlier that same low point day, I was watching a YouTube video and one of the images used caught my imagination. So much so that I found the image online and changed my cover photo on Facebook. Imagine my surprise when the same word appeared in the book as part of the overall philosophy. It felt like validation that I made the right choice.

Reframing was exactly what I had in mind. I wanted to think once more about paths and choices and consequences. The problem was perspective. I needed a fresh one. I knew that I couldn't possibly provide my own objectivity when it came to my decisions and I wasn't in a place where I wanted to speak about it to anyone else. I was so absorbed in pain and regret and anger that I could barely breathe let alone think outside my carefully constructed box of justifications. The book provided that fresh perspective.

The process is simple, but deceptive. Of course there is some very painful and difficult work associated with going through it. I don’t mind that part really. If it is going to lead me to new, healthier habits and a better awareness of myself as well as others around me, I’ll do it. It reminds me of what I think of as a recovery process from an addiction. Once I have gone through the process I can’t just announce that I’m cured! Doesn't work like that. I will have knee-jerk reactions and emotional triggers that take me back to the familiar decision processes. Incorporating the new perspective and processes will take time and repetition and an incredible amount of patience with me.

The book is called Radical Forgiveness.