The Great Unknown

It's not unnatural to be apprehensive, even fearful, of the unknown.

In general, I like to have at least a vague idea of what to expect, especially when facing a new situation. If I'm being completely honest, then I can say my default mode is that I prefer to be in control and mentally prepared for several possible outcomes in any given situation, and I can get more than a little freaked out when things aren't going according to The Plan.

Looking back at how high-strung and tightly-wound I was in years past, it's no wonder that this need to be in control has caused more harm than good-- both to myself and to friends and loved ones. Nobody really likes to be bossed around. Nobody likes to feel that they are less capable than the know-it-all, my-way-or-the-highway, I'm-in-charge-here person that colored the better part of my adult life. I had prided myself on being a tough, scrappy girl, someone who fought hard to get out from under oppression to become a strong leader, in control of my own life. And that's true, but... being in control of my own life doesn't crown me the queen of anyone else's life. That isn't being a leader, that's called being a tyrant. I recognize this now, and only wish I had seen it clearly years ago.

I'm not quite there yet, but I've worked very hard at teaching myself to relax more and go with the flow, find more Zen in my day-to-day, embrace change and spontaneity, and surrender control and outcomes to the universal higher power I understand as God. It's not easy, until it is. And as a result I can say with conviction that every single time I relax my grip on whatever situation or circumstance I'm faced with, it is the right move. Everything works out, even if it isn't the outcome I had expected, anticipated, or even desired. There is always something good that comes from it! When I do the opposite, when I decide that it's totally up to me to steer and direct and control every aspect of every situation, guess what? I become a hot mess. A stressed-out, frazzled, short-tempered mess. Not exactly the attractive qualities that I was going for!

All of this to say that I'm finally starting to enjoy the unexpected. Sure, I still like to make plans and I like to be organized and prepared. I still battle with anxiety when I plan events, wanting everything to be perfect. I don't profess to just float along through life aimlessly, seeing where the tide will take me if I don't put any effort into it. But I'm really learning to welcome and embrace the adventure that makes life so very exciting... the unscripted, the improvised, The Great Unknown.

The Value of a Broken Heart

Sometimes, I do really dumb things... like, fall for a guy that I have absolutely no business falling for. To date, that has never worked out well for me. You'd think I would learn from experience, but, No. Somehow, just as soon as enough time passes between MLM's (My Last Mistake) my silly little heart is right back out there, smiling and vulnerable, just asking to get stomped on. Tsk, tsk. My brain is smart, but my heart... DUMB.

My latest romantic adventure -- wait for it-- ended badly. And I cried, felt embarassed, and was hurt and humiliated for a couple of days. Sucks, right? Of course it does. But here's where the value comes in: After the initial feelings of uber-lameness and heartbreak started to wane, I let my [smart] brain go to work and process the pain, to somehow try to find the redemptive value. And that's when it hit me: Heartbreak is the mother of Compassion. Or at least, it can be, if we choose it.

During the very darkest moments of feeling like a complete ass, a dear friend called and spoke truth to me. She reminded me of my own worth and value, didn't judge or ridicule me, and just showed incredible kindness and compassion to me. She even made me laugh... a lot, actually. She didn't have to; she chose to.

Having your heart broken is never "fun" but it is not without great value. Out of broken hearts are born compelling works of art, socio-political movements, awareness campaigns, and paradigm shifts. People far greater than me have taken their personal pain and allowed God to use it for incredible good in the world through ministries of compassion. Even Jesus himself had compassion on the people he encountered, because seeing them in their sin and misery broke his own heart.

I'm no Jesus, and I don't think that my last experience is on a comparable scale to something that would spark a global movement, but I do believe that by remembering the physical and emotional pain associated with heartbreak of any kind should move a person from selfishness to compassion. The internal becomes external. The healing that is taking place within me can be used to help heal someone else from their pain. Kinda deep and mysterious and cool to think about, and I'm excited to see what good comes out of it. Because trust me, boys aside, there are many things in this world that break my heart. This painful reminder is just a catalyst to push me out into it, armed with love for the people on my path.