I found out last week that a former classmate passed away about a month ago.  I wasn’t friends with the girl, I knew her, but we weren’t anywhere near the same groups.  I honestly couldn’t even remember her last name so I pulled out one of the old yearbooks and looked her up.  My son asked what the book was and I explained that it told the story of the highlights of the school year when I was a kid.  As I ran through the book, I re-read the articles and stories.  At first it was a cute feeling of nostalgia and after a few minutes, it turned into a sinking feeling in the stomach.  I barely found myself anywhere in that book and it sent me down a deep spiral of anxiety and anger and shame.  It seemed I forgot who I was a long time ago.  What have I done with my life?  Where did the girl with all the ambition go?  Where did the girl with no fear go?  Then it went deeper; earlier that week I’d been walking around work on the verge of depression when I asked myself: What did I expect?  I’m still in some of those same environments I was that long ago—no wonder I still feel the same.  Cue instant anxiety…well, maybe anxiety isn’t the word.

I felt lost.  Like I wasn’t able to get my footing for a moment because I realized that I never became who I wanted to be because I stayed stuck in who I was.  Existential moment in full force, here.  There are moments I still don’t understand how I’ve ended up repeating these patterns as long as I have, I think about it all the time.  I got lost in the proving and the running around making myself feel better.  I never took the time to simply follow my heart after getting honest about what I wanted to do and accomplish with my own life.  Seeing so many of my peers pass away gives me almost a numbing feeling because the reality is I see the life they lived and how much life was in their lives and how quickly we can lose that—why am I wasting this precious time doing the same things over and over again, allowing the cycle of fear and depression to creep up when I know there are healthier places for me to be.  it isn’t about proving anything anymore, we can waste an entire lifetime trying to prove.  It’s about surrendering and allowing. 

The truth is I’m glad I had that little breakdown/existential crisis because I have a tendency to miss the obvious.  I can shout the obvious all I want, but that doesn’t mean it hits me the same way.  I need a big change.  I thought I was the person who could change my life with a combination of sheer will and attacking multiple things at once.  That endeavor has failed and it’s gotten me in deeper than I wanted to be.  It’s time to stop doing.  We all feel that way: we can only take on so much before we feel like we’re drowning.  In those moments we have to learn to let go and float.  We will be able to orient ourselves better when we stop fighting where we are.  I know it feels like we will get pulled under, but we can trust that we will find our way.  We have to give up the familiar in order to find the greatness of what we are meant to do.  We find our way, and sometimes we need a reminder to stop squandering this gift.