Monday, January 23, 2017

Unwritten

The quote here is a snippet of lyrics from Natasha Bedingfield's "Unwritten".  I think this song resonates with so many because we're always on the brink of something new, and we never know where each day, each moment will lead us.

For me, some significant changes have happened recently that have left me with a lack of certainty about the future.  This isn't a bad thing, mind you....it's simply a departure from what I am accustomed to.  Normally, I am focused, driven, and usually have a clear vision for where I am headed, and what I want from life.  I tend to always have something I am studying - a personal interest, or a business-related course, or something of historical focus. I have always enjoyed learning, and it helps me to balance my life with enriching my knowledge base and indulging my endlessly curious mind.

Right now, however, nothing is on my personal horizon in that regard. Nothing is capturing my interest, nothing is exciting me or lighting a fire in my heart to engage and learn. Two long held dreams - big ones - have become decidedly uninspiring, and that has surprised me. It doesn't necessarily mean those two big dreams have died; I don't know what it means, to be honest. All I know is that the drive to achieve them has waned for the now.

So, here I am, with my life ahead of me, waiting for something to spark, to grab, to enliven.

Many years ago, I worked for a large corporation where part of my duties involved writing a quarterly newsletter.  This was not a small feat, as the corporation was an international one with satellite offices domestically and across several countries. The newsletter was always highly anticipated by those offices, with a great deal of enthusiastic feedback.  That positive feedback was both encouraging and a bit onerous, as it created constant expectations to top each previous newsletter edition.  I would get the current edition finalized and sent out, and immediately begin working on the next edition.

The blank pages of the newsletter template would loom at me on my computer's screen, and I would always have thoughts of, "How am I going to fill this up again?  How am I going to make this edition better than the last?  How will there be enough time in this quarter to meet the deadline and still deliver interesting, valuable content?"

As the days passed, bits and pieces would always materialize. Conversations with co-workers would lead to requesting an interview with someone.  Research on a current project would prompt me to dig deeper and that research would produce an interesting fact for the newsletter. Happy moments such as anniversaries, weddings, babies being born, graduations, human interest stories, etc., were always plugged into the pages.  And almost every single quarter, before I knew it, the newsletter would be full to the brim with articles, news, facts, and images.  I usually would have so much content, it would spill over to be utilized for the following quarter's edition. Still, with each new, empty template to fill, the doubts were always there in the back of my mind.

Life is quite similar to a publication in the works.  As Ms. Bedingfield's song lyrics indicate, we are books, unwritten.

I am a methodical person, and am accustomed to being in control of my life. Coming to such a large space of unknowing is a curious feeling for me. It isn't scary.  It isn't alarming.  It's different. Not quite uncomfortable, but certainly discomfort is there.

Discomfort is a clear harbinger that change, that increase, that a great big amount of new, is on the horizon.  That can cause the mind chatter to begin dancing a jig, dripping gleeful bits of concern, wariness, anxiety, mistrust, and all manner of negative emotions designed to stop us in our tracks.

When those emotions crop up, I remind myself of the old days of writing that quarterly newsletter.  Those questions and doubts would pop up throughout each quarter as I worked on the newsletter.  I learned to brush them aside and keep moving through the process.
So, here I am, with blank pages. Even writing this article here feels inadequate, lacking in the normal flowing, musical ease with which I generally create.  When I mentor writing students, my advice to them is always, "Just write. The questions will be answered as long as you engage in the process." Taking my own advice has me here at my laptop, waiting for the questions to be answered.

Will they be answered?  Of course they will.  It might not be as I expect the movie in my mind to play out; that's the one true certainty in the mix.  Indeed, life rarely plays out as we imagine in our mind's eye, and often that is a blessing. 

Sometimes, engaging the process doesn't mean anything earthshaking. Sometimes, it simply means to keep breathing. Keep living. Keep being who we are, whilst also being open to change. From moment to moment, who we are changes on a cellular level, so you would think embracing myriad changes in the corporeal world would be just as seamless.  Obviously, it isn't! Change is something that tends to instill resistance for the best of us.

Personally, I don't have time for the fears, the doubts, and most of all, I do not have time for embracing resistance.  Part of this whole dynamic stems from releasing a presence that luxuriated in embracing resistance, in dragging of feet, in avoiding feeling emotions, in postponing living in the now. It is a genuine, simple fact that all we have is now, this moment.  We're all aware of this truth, that tomorrow is not promised....the next breath, the next smile, the next sunset.....it could all be final. 

I have a life to live....pages to fill with experiences.  I do not have a single clue where tomorrow leads me. I do not have a single clue what all the new will bring. It is currently unwritten, but I do have the book open, blank page pristine, pen in hand to give it expression.  I expect it to be glorious. 

6 comments:

  1. Sweet Dawn, I have found at times like you describe here, when change is happening, yet I feel stuck or unmotivated, stewing in my own uncertainties, that the Spirit is just about to break through. We, as humans, are resistant to change, aren't we? But when it's on the horizon, many times God steps in, coaxing us to quiet down, stop rushing, and simply be.
    And wait.
    And it's so true that all we have of which we can be certain is the present moment, and the faith that tells us all is in God's hands.
    So glad to see you back blogging, my sister, and know I'm keeping you in prayer!
    Blessings!

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    1. My dear Martha, in this instance, the feeling of being stuck, and bogged down, is definitely letting me know that changes are afoot. That used to bother me and trigger all the mental, self-defeating mind babble. At this point in my life, I am honestly welcoming and interested to see what is coming, and that's a pleasant realization!


      Thank you for visiting, sweet friend. Your comment here also lets me know that you came through the horrific storms in Georgia safely, and that is an immense blessing!

      Much love to you.💖💖💖


      - Dawn

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  2. Dawnie girl, I hesitate to write how on so many levels I can relate to what you are going through. The connection is different mind you, but as a result of my health, I am left everyday not knowing the severity of pain physically, mentally or emotionally I will be in. Just very recently I am doing my best to take each day just as it is, staying with it until the next day and the next. Realizing they will all be different and learning how I will deal with each day has been something new for me. This has helped me to not feel so out of control and fearful. I feel like I am not making sense either as I write this response to you but I must say you are doing a remarkable job! You are a success with everything you touch your hands to, and I love you dearly. Janie

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    1. My dear Janie, what a lovely thing to see you here! I know the effort necessary for you to get online and type up a comment, particularly when each day is uncertain in regard to your health. I understand the confusion and frustration to articulate your thoughts; I hit those moments, also. And really, I don't think there is a right or wrong way to manage those moments - just living through them sometimes is a big accomplishment!

      I appreciate your confidence in me, Janie. I still have no idea what next direction I will take, so it helps to know I am loved and supported as I figure it all out.

      I love you dearly as well, my Janie. 💖

      - Dawnie

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  3. Dawn, I don't think this post could have been more timely for me ... first I love the words to that song, I have never heard it before but it touched me... no one can write our pages for us, only we can.

    Second, I wish you lots of success with the upcoming changes... you're right it can be scary, especially when you are not sure what is on the horizon...

    I have been in limbo for a while and I know what I need to do to change, it seems much simpler to know it than to change it. Although, I know once I commit, the change will be easier than I thought...

    Have a great week, it was wonderful hearing from you xox

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    1. Launna, I dubbed this "useful limbo" in a past blog article - this curious pause life puts us into occasionally. I think it can be valuable to sit back, take stock, ruminate, and turn various possibilities over in our minds before taking action.

      In that regard, I think you're right where you are meant to be. When it feels right, you'll know it and the first steps forward will start to make sense. I know from personal experience that when I try to force the pace to speed up, it just causes unnecessary frustration.

      It sounds as though you and I are in a similar stage of that useful limbo. It will be interesting to see what first steps each of us take in the coming days.

      Thank you for visiting, sweet friend!

      - Dawn

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