The Long and Winding Road

I feel a ramble coming on.  Let this opening announcement serve as warning: I have no earthly idea what direction I may take today. There are likely to be detours, wrong turns, roundabouts and dead ends.  I fear I may even run out of gas.  If you come along for the ride, just fasten your seat belt.

I came here this morning intent on booking a trip.  A trip to NYC.  A long weekend to be spent in the Big Apple in 2 short weeks. I have been on many sites.  One even posted that rooms at the Waldorf could be secured for $250/night.  That is a steal.  All desirable flights have at best 2 seats left...we need 3.  I'm getting a headache before I even take on theater tickets or the perils of packing for NYC in March.  I am getting heart palpitations even thinking about pulling the trigger, which lends me to believe that I should put the weapon (wallet) down.  I am sad to say that I am not spontaneous enough (or decisive if I am being completely honest) to pull this off.  I wanted to...I really did.  I'm also not strong enough right now.  I'm thin skinned, fragile and needy.  Even in my mightiest manic moment, I know that NYC is a very bad fit for me right now. I'm sad because I wanted to celebrate an important graduation.  I wanted to finally visit Ground Zero.  I was hungry to eat in Little Italy.  I dreamed of taking Miss Bit on a horse drawn carriage ride through Central Park and to see a show on Broadway.  I longed to say YES!  Saying No, I don't think so feels so much like defeat.

And the scariest part is that I really don't have a longing desire to go anywhere.  Ever.  I just want to stay here.  Home.  I have no desire for the hustle and bustle, or itineraries or strange beds even if they come with beautiful views.  Traveling right now seems like too much work for too little reward.  The kind of vacation that presently appeals to me is a month with absolutely nothing to see or do.  Capisce?

So now that I'm being completely honest about what is congruous with my current state of mind, do I dare even delve into why I am feeling this way?  What is causing this low level anxiety, this plague of paralysis, this Oblomov like mood?  Is it middle age?  Middle life?  The middle of winter?  Is it malaise?  Or mindfulness?

I can attest to the fact that I have had more than my fair share of aha moments lately.  Processing is hard work.  Synthesizing is draining.  Assimilating is no walk in the park.  And while the truth is ultimately liberating, it takes a little time to know what to do with it.  I haven't grown my wings yet.  Instead I find myself sitting around wondering where to go from here with both feet firmly planted on the ground not willing to budge an inch in any direction lest I make the same mistakes again or take the same missteps.  I think about what I would have done differently if I had known about myself, about life what I know now.  And then I get stuck on what I don't yet know.

I remember my Aunt who is only 10 years older and wiser than I am, telling me when I was 20, When you're 20 you think you know everything...just wait until your 30.  When I was 30 she said, When you're 30 you think you have all the answers, just wait until your 40.  Then when I was 40, she held the carrot out yet another decade.  And what do you know...she's been right every time.

I don't want to live from a place of fear or regret  I want to embrace choices and look back with confident conviction.