Waiting

It’s a journey I’ve been on and maybe it keeps on going, maybe it always does, like a river that flows to a sea it never arrives at. I thought my journey, or this most recent part of it, had paused, or even come to a halt. The river branches, it forks, again and again, some lead somewhere, and some not. So where am I?

Man, I get caught up in my own fine rhetoric sometimes, and that’s the last thing I want right now. Still, it serves a purpose.

Most things are good for me right now, or at least promising. As always I have faith that I will capitalise on most of the opportunities presented to me. Some I’m not so sure of because they are not so clear or logical. There is no predicting those, it’s like riding a barrel down Niagara Falls, you hope for the best.

This last week has made that clear for me. I expected something different from these last 7 days and have been surprised with what has actually occurred – and pleased with it too. As I suggested writing at the beginning of this period I have been very calm throughout. I had a few qualms one day – Wednesday – and this morning lay in bed with butterflies in my stomach, but in general, I have calmly moved forward.

It seems wrong to suggest that I feel as if a small burden has been taken from me – but it feels true. By that, I don’t mean to discount what was before. What came before was necessary even if it was occasionally difficult. Now though I feel released from much of that, as if I am free to follow myself without a second thought in whatever direction I choose.

It has been a timely shift. Much of what I have been working on in recent months at work is now coming to the fore. My name is being promoted, and if all goes as I expect it to then I will be playing in a bigger league within a month. I have to be strong for that, I can’t afford to show any doubt – and for the last 7 days that is the person I have returned to.

It seems strange to write this. My persona for many years has been both strong and certain; by and large, that is what I have felt – and even the times when I didn’t I would brush it aside knowing that it is doubt that kills, that it is faith that creates the good you wish for. For the last 6 months though I have had to battle with this, that strong and certain part of me turning up its arrogant nose at the swirling uncertainty that I felt and struggled to deal with.

Somehow it makes me think of my father. As I have written before my father is a strong and impressive man. He is resolute and stubborn and never beaten: I admire him, and I admire those qualities. And so it was a revelation to me several years ago to see him break down in tears giving the eulogy at his younger brother’s funeral. I had never seen this before of him, and sitting in the audience I too began to cry, not for my uncle, but rather for this unexpected view of my father.

I reflected on this afterwards. It seemed to me that my father was of rock, a tough outer layer beneath which there was a much softer stone, rarely seen. And at his core rock as hard as diamond. I saw at the funeral that rock broken open to reveal the softer stuff inside.

In ways, I am similar to my father. My rock is hard too, but softer than his, necessarily so. There is another layer though beneath that which is harder. This is where I have come to now. The softer rock has been eroded, but the erosion stops here.

This is where I have been then these last 7 days. I have deliberately kept my mind on the things directly before me. I have gone to work and come home again aware of the broader picture, but letting it flow without intervention from me. All the while things have silently shifted in me. I let it happen, knowing that when the time is right I would know what to do.

That time has not come yet. If I try and imagine it I come up with different notions that mean nothing. It must come from within, like a spring that bubbles slowly inside before coming to the surface. I cannot hurry it, nor pre-empt it. It is whatit is, and when.

In the meantime, I continue as I have this last week. I am grateful for it. There are times though when I reflect on what has happened. These last 6 months my soft underbelly has been exposed. That’s pretty uncomfortable, and yet at any time I could have retreated into myself and saved all this trouble: I chose not to.

It is good to be strong and confident. It feels grand, and for so much it is necessary. That’s not the full story though. You must allow yourself to feel, must dare yourself to follow those feelings. That takes you into unfamiliar and sometimes unsafe territory. It must be done though. To be strong and confident is to always move along a pre-determined groove where one thing follows another. That’s not the way to live. You have to be brave enough to be weak sometimes. Funnily this brings to mind something I actually wrote: “Love is weakness, it’s letting go of the need to be strong. You let go and you become stronger with the person you love.”

And so I am glad of what I went through and maybe even a little wistful knowing what it meant. And I know I would do it again, and will at some point, knowing that it’s worth the pain and the angst, aware that to move forward we must move out of our comfort zone, we must walk that plank.

For now, that’s all I know. I will know more at some point soon when it comes, and I will act in accordance with that, and without question or doubt. I’m waiting for the truth to come to me.

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