Rope Trick

Being a forty-something, married with kids, juggling between work and everything else that demands my time feels like I've suddenly snapped out of a trance to find myself walking on a tightrope across a deep roaring gorge. In my imagery, I am not wearing a harness, the wind is starting to get stronger, I am right in the middle not quite sure what I ought to do. Dizziness quickly sets in. What in the world am I doing? What got me started on this and why had it taken me this far?  What does every professional circus tightrope walker do to be in the zone and how is this supposed to end for me? 

Rationalisation create phobias. If I look down, I am going to ask myself how far down it is, how long it would take for me to hit the water, will I have time to finish a prayer, how long is it going to hurt for.  If I look in front, all I am going to see is the insurmountable challenge of completing this rope trick under increasingly poor weather conditions. I am always a million miles away from safety until that final step onto solid ground. What was I thinking? How do I get that psychotic clown tune out of my head?

The wise thing to do would be to focus on my next step. With every step, take a deep calming breath, count my blessings, say a prayer before I take the next step in faith. Let my inner peace drown out my doubting troubling screams. Sing my favourite song, bring to mind those favourite times, warm my heart with love, enjoy the sun even.

We are all on a journey. We start from one end and we are supposed to get to the other end. It doesn't always feel like you are on a travelator catching a flight to your next holiday destination. You don't move if you don't make a move, yet everything moves around you. But the worst thing to do could be to think of an analogy that describes the situation but never gives a satisfactory answer.