A few weeks ago I reflected on a very simple question: Are you happy with the life you made?  I looked at my home, the things I’ve accumulated over the years, the people I’ve allowed in my life, the entirety of my existence and started thinking about what this would look like when I’m gone.  What people would think of me based on what they’re seeing, what I leave behind.  I had a sense of melancholy with some of the last dregs of remaining turmoil from work, and I knew I was letting that cloud my thoughts, but this question about being happy with my life, specifically the life I made, hit me differently.  I questioned where I’d put my energy and if this was all how I envisioned things.  I knew the answer was no.  I felt a different kind of sadness come over me—like, we are responsible for our happiness and our decisions and I’m at the point in my life where certain options aren’t available anymore so why would I spend more time in an environment where I’m not happy?  Especially when I have so much around me that I’ve worked for, I have so much to show for what I’ve done, I have so much that shows me.  But is it showing who I want to be?  Who I really am?  That became part of this question as well.  I wrote the following piece thinking of these questions.

So, Am I happy with the life I’ve made?  Because all of these things around me, all of the things I do is a result of what I’ve chosen—this is all me, including how I feel about it.  I’m proud of it.  I’m grateful for it.  But I’m not happy.  I know that’s on me and my choices/thoughts/actions—it’s me who has created all of this, the good and the bad.  I feel like something still is fundamentally off.  Like just not right.  I don’t know if it’s timing—like I’m rushing things or if I’m behind.  Or is it an alignment thing?  Like I’m not WHERE I belong?  Maybe both.  But what I do on a daily basis isn’t bringing me joy.  That could be anxiety/depression/negativity bias—I know I’m trained to see the bad first.  And the challenges feel like a wasted effort because it’s like I’m fighting for something I don’t even want—I don’t know what I want.  My energy is ALWAYS divided and unfocused and I’m never settled, never rooted in who I am.  Why am I fighting for what I really don’t want?  Because I’m used to fighting?  My mind and body know little else.  I knew transition to a new life would be tough.  It would mean the death of what I knew/who  I was. I have to welcome the new and I get scared to say goodbye—that means it’s really over, admitting it didn’t turn out or that I didn’t have a clue what I was doing.  The chance to do certain things is gone and I need to make peace with what is.  Focus on the creation of the new. 

There ARE pieces that will fall away, we have no control over it and some things that fall away will be things we want to keep.  We will have to bury that too.  I have known that, I thought I did. But as things change, losing family, losing my mind a bit, there are pieces I held onto (am holding?) like a toddler afraid of wading in the water, holding their mother’s hand.  Some of those pieces are the pieces of dreams I had that will never be.  So it’s burying both what was and what will never be and we can be equally attached to both.  I was buried a long time ago thinking I’d be in bloom, and I am, but I also cut some of those blooms and buds ending some things before they could even grow.  So I guess with the things I wrote here, the thoughts, I have no choice but to surrender.  Which hits my faith.  Can I trust even if the worst happens that there IS a reason? Can I trust that I will find my way to the life I’m supposed to?  Can I trust that letting go is the right thing? That what I love, what is meant for me will find me?  Can I accept that I’m NOT a bad person in spite of mistakes?  Will I be carried through?  Will I receive the guidance I need?  Will I be strong enough to see it through? Will I find me?

I can’t carry what no longer works.  No matter how much I love it or thought I wanted it.  I have to admit there is no other way to solve this, to happiness, to help, to ME, other than to surrender all of it. Let go.  See the big picture and see that the best for all, to do the right thing, it’s ok to put myself first and to celebrate me.  I no longer want to confuse appreciation and gratitude with settling.  I thought I had to accept everything I got in my life from other people’s junk to their clothes, to the things that no longer fit in their lives but I didn’t want to erase the possibility it might work in mine as well.  I wanted to be grateful for every opportunity even if it wasn’t something that quite fit me.  I said yes to things I shouldn’t have and I tried to be everything.  I forced broken things to linger long past the time they wanted to lay down and be done.  I kept the things wanting to live at bay, allowing more time for those last dregs of hope to take root.  And now, there is this mish mash of things that have nothing to do with who I am, little pieces of all I tried to build that never really took off—and I’m grateful for it.  But I know in order to find happiness, it’s time to release it and say yes to what actually makes me happy.