Sick of everything in your life? Easy. Get on a plane. Fly across the country to family or friends that you truly love. Don’t. Think. About. Home.
This is what I did all last week. It works, until it doesn’t, meaning until you have to return and the boiler still doesn’t work and the door still doesn’t lock and the insulation still needs replacing and a hundred other boring, mostly extremely expensive things need doing. Yup, while you were off ice skating and learning to make pasta, it all waited for you.
Yippee.
As we went straight from the airport to the new house to deal with the latest crisis, I felt unmitigated anger. Why are we doing this again? Why did we choose to buy this project house that I’m not even all that into?
I thought I had worked past this, but the familiar feeling I’ve battled so many times over the past months rose up again. I don’t want to fix this house. I don’t want to move into it. I don’t want any of this.
And then, just as familiar, the response. It doesn’t matter what I want. For a wide variety of reasons, we are moving into this house. (And fixing it up before, but also realistically long after we move in.) That is decided. My only choice is whether to move into the house kicking, screaming, and being miserable, or move into the house looking for the good, and feeling grateful. That’s the choice. That’s it.
My situation may (or may not be) unique, or particularly intense, but it’s not uncommon. No matter what, even when you have no alternative in which action you’ll take, how you take it is always up to you.
I was hoping the trip would cure me of my burnout but it didn’t. Even this gives me an option. Do I focus on the trip not being some kind of miracle, or do I remind myself how wonderful it was to get away and how grateful I am that M didn’t have a problem with me going while he stayed and held down the fort?
After we’d put out the fire, we headed to our favorite restaurant. My irritation was still palpable enough that M turned to me and said, “Hey, you’re still on vacation until tomorrow.” It took a moment to sink in, but then I smiled. He was right. Why dwell on problems right now when I could be present, be loved and be happy?
This is what I did all last week. It works, until it doesn’t, meaning until you have to return and the boiler still doesn’t work and the door still doesn’t lock and the insulation still needs replacing and a hundred other boring, mostly extremely expensive things need doing. Yup, while you were off ice skating and learning to make pasta, it all waited for you.
Yippee.
As we went straight from the airport to the new house to deal with the latest crisis, I felt unmitigated anger. Why are we doing this again? Why did we choose to buy this project house that I’m not even all that into?
I thought I had worked past this, but the familiar feeling I’ve battled so many times over the past months rose up again. I don’t want to fix this house. I don’t want to move into it. I don’t want any of this.
And then, just as familiar, the response. It doesn’t matter what I want. For a wide variety of reasons, we are moving into this house. (And fixing it up before, but also realistically long after we move in.) That is decided. My only choice is whether to move into the house kicking, screaming, and being miserable, or move into the house looking for the good, and feeling grateful. That’s the choice. That’s it.
My situation may (or may not be) unique, or particularly intense, but it’s not uncommon. No matter what, even when you have no alternative in which action you’ll take, how you take it is always up to you.
I was hoping the trip would cure me of my burnout but it didn’t. Even this gives me an option. Do I focus on the trip not being some kind of miracle, or do I remind myself how wonderful it was to get away and how grateful I am that M didn’t have a problem with me going while he stayed and held down the fort?
After we’d put out the fire, we headed to our favorite restaurant. My irritation was still palpable enough that M turned to me and said, “Hey, you’re still on vacation until tomorrow.” It took a moment to sink in, but then I smiled. He was right. Why dwell on problems right now when I could be present, be loved and be happy?
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