The Tunnel of Uncertainty

Change…. just thinking about it makes me want to spit.  The older I get, the harder it is to let go and move forward.  Whether a change is forced by circumstance or chosen, the common product is uncertainty.  Will it all work out or will I suffer and die? (I know I am being dramatic.)

Big changes are like walking into a long dark tunnel. My assumptions keep me from moving forward since I have already (very dramatically) determined that what’s in the tunnel isn’t good for me.  I cling to my assumption as a lantern in the darkness. Will I encounter a fiery dragon, a cursed treasure, or be forced to slay my own demons like Luke Skywalker in the old tree? Yoda understood about the uncertainty of a dark unknown place and, despite his knowledge, he saw its usefulness in training Luke to acknowledge his fear and face it all while Luke claimed he was “not afraid.” Unlike Luke, I have no problem shouting out to the world that the tunnel is scary. 

In the face of an important change, I am challenging my assumption and requiring myself to believe that the tunnel is a passage to another place , that it doesn't house killer beasts, and that if I can muster the courage to go forward I will see the light at the end. Can changing my assumption change my experience? I am finding that, if nothing else, the new assumption makes me a little more willing to move along. Willingness doesn’t quash the fact that change carries a truck load of uncertainty that I can't do much about. 

Carly Simon had it right when she sang, " We can never know about the days to come, But we think about them anyway." So dwelling on it is pointless and what IS certain is that I will do it anyway. Human nature compels me to think ahead .......... even when it's not in my best interest. 

Excuse me now, while I go spit! 

I've had this drawing folded up in my sketch book for a while. 

lw             

Swing the Bat

I was reminded by someone who cares about me that we are all in the batting cage of life. Some people cry and cower in the corner. Some people run screaming from the cage and into traffic. Some of us are more resilient and just stand there. "I'm not afraid," I say. I don't run or cry or cower. I stand my ground while the fiery balls of life pummel my noggin. Thunk!

"Swing the bat! Pick it up," she said,"and swing."  Maybe you hit something and if you don't hit a damn thing you are no worse off. You have taken some action to improve yourself or your situation and whether it's a home run or bunt doesn't matter as much as the fact that action was taken. Stop worrying about always doing just the right thing and just do SOMETHING.

"Swing the Bat" has become my mantra. When the balls are flying at me, I ask myself what action can I take to protect myself from a concussion while still standing my ground.

       What help can be given or sought? 
          What options can be weighed?
            What grace can I grant to myself or another? 
              What choices can be made?

                 Swing the Bat! 
               
       

lw









Disclaimer: Swing the bat is a metaphor for life. In no way do I endorse the swinging of bats at any human or animal.