I know I’m not the first to report feeling a bit uneasy — fidgety — when things are going well. There’s that sense of, well, what do I do with myself now? Without a fire to put out, I can certainly funnel my energies into more constructive endeavors, but they don’t always have the same “pull” or urgency that, say, a terrible food hangover commands. It’s sort of like when I have a big project, goal, or major event for which I’m working very hard. There’s often a more clear-cut course of action that keeps me busy, allows me to get into that wonderful zone. And when it’s over — when the curtain falls, as it were, I’m always left with a couple of days (at least) of a low-level depression, a sense of discombobulation, even a feeling of loss — even (or maybe especially?) if the event or goal was reached with great joy and excitement. I feel temporarily adrift without a rudder or a sense of where I’m supposed to be going, and it’s often accompanied with a tinge of loneliness.
I think our news, and dare I say, our culture’s fixation on drama and the negative, further fuels this, even if the inclination is inside me already. You can’t visit a news site without getting hit by headlines informing us of so-and-so’s marriage breaking up, so-and-so getting arrested for drunk driving, so-and-so being sent to rehab for the fifth time, etc. Yet the majority of even the worst down-and-out situations no doubt have periods in between of recovery, turning their life around, making changes that are constructive to their happiness and that of their loved ones. But of course, that’s boring. Who really wants to read, “Three years later and so-and-so is still happily following her new way of eating, with just a 10-lb. weight adjustment”?
My point being, I’m finding myself in a strange place at the moment. My recovery is going splendidly — I’m not afraid to write that anymore (I used to wonder if doing so would jinx it). Sure, I still have my challenges; I think that’ll be the name of the game for the rest of my life. But the change I have experienced over the last year and a half, but especially the last 3 or so months, is stunning. It makes me wonder how I would feel if I had the chance to “visit” my headset of, say, even this past February or March. Would I even recognize the thought process anymore? I have optimism for the future, and yet a solid sense of being in the present, which keeps me from projecting and getting overwhelmed. “Just take the next indicated action” and “Play the tape all the way through to the end” have been my two constant guides in my daily life, and the relief and progress this has brought has been astounding.
Nevertheless, there’s that uneasyness. How do I recognize complacency? When things are going well, it can be difficult to stay as vigilant, which means I must renew my commitment to my program even more vigorously. At the same time, however, like all good habits, doesn’t there come a point in which at least SOME of that intensity can be released a bit? I’m trying to strike that balance — the balance between keeping those activities in place that foster honesty and the actions that have given me the recovery I’m currently enjoying….and allowing myself to release some of the measures that I may not need as vigorously, so that I can now turn my attention toward greater life goals, such as growing my business and traveling more.
I think, more than anything, I’m slowly realizing and accepting that I don’t need drama, that life does not need to “wow” me on a constant basis. So I don’t need to create drama in order to give myself a project. I will continue to find enjoyment and satisfaction with the middle ground. The middle ground, I’m learning, is NOT mediocrity, as I had feared. On the contrary, there is a great deal of opportunity to take great pride and put out my best effort in everything I do. It just so happens that what I’m doing is less dramatic, yet slowly but surely it brings amazing gifts to my life and to that of others.
So the lesson of the moment is….I can give up certain obvious behaviors and experience some important relief. But the more gradual, almost intangible changes that are equally important are those slow, internal shifts in thinking.
Bottom line: Enjoy the lack of drama when I’m lucky enough to be in such a state. And yet as I transition into a more “sustaining the changes” phase (vs. “making the changes” phase), I need to be watchful for signs that I’m romanticizing the thought of having a fire to put out. My mind can be rudderless sometimes, that’s okay, the feeling will pass if I just breathe through it. The next indicated action — my next (more constructive) project will surface soon enough, when my HP wants to present it to me.
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