The Messy Middle

Living in the unknown…the messy middle as I have called it before can be uncomfortable. Being a thoughtful and reflective person, I spent some time this morning recognizing that I feel a low to medium level of anxiety this week. It has come up in various ways for me. For example, my fuse has been shorter- something goes wrong and I’m immediately irritated. This is embarrassing to admit but I have also been cussing more. I am personally not one to cuss often; so, when I do- I know that something is off kilter for me.

I won’t go into tons of intimate detail on this particular post  but the reality is… some of the things in my life that were sources of stability have shifted recently. This has left me feeling a little bit out of sorts and out of control.

In addition, I am simultaneously beginning to access more bravery in myself in order to take more risks with my coaching business, my writing, and in my personal life. I have no guarantees that any of it will work out well. I don’t know whether I’ll be as successful as I would like to be as a writer and a life coach. I also don’t know whether the directions I’m investing in personally will be fruitful. And, I am afraid of messing it all up and making the wrong decisions because let’s face it, I’ve made mistakes before.

As the pressure to perform mounts, my ability to cope well decreases. The voices that tell me “I should” do this or that get louder and the small, wise voice that God has given me is softer and softer.

So, how do I get back on track? Well, for me, the first step is admitting it. My life has not been a traditional journey, in the sense that, I haven’t settled down and had stability like most people do. I have had lots of changes that I’ve passed through. Even so, each time I go through another season of change… I seem to feel all the scared feelings all over again. Sigh. The only difference is that I’m more aware and possibly quicker to admit that I’m feeling scared and out of control.

For me, especially in my faith, admitting it is important because then, I can pray and ask for help. I have to be humble enough to do so which is also uncomfortable but is very rewarding.

I hope that if you are in an “out-of-control” or unknown season that you feel encouraged that you are not alone and that it is okay.

The Flying Trapeze ~from The Essene Book of Days by Danaan Parry

Sometimes, I feel that my life is a series of trapeze swings. I’m either hanging on to a trapeze bar swinging along or, for a few moments, I’m hurdling across space between the trapeze bars.

Mostly, I spend my time hanging on for dear life to the trapeze bar of the moment. It carries me along at a certain steady rate of swing, and I have the feeling that I’m in control.

I know most of the right questions, and even some of the right answers.

But once in a while, as I’m merrily, or not so merrily, swinging along, I look ahead of me into the distance, and what do I see?  I see another trapeze bar looking at me. It’s empty. And I know, in that place in me that knows, that this new bar has my name on it.

It is my next step, my growth, my aliveness coming to get me.

In my heart-of-hearts I know that for me to grow, I must release my grip on the present well-known bar, to move to the new one.  Each time it happens, I hope—no, I pray—that I won’t have to grab the new one.

But in my knowing place, I know that I must totally release my grasp on my old bar, and for some moments in time I must hurtle across space before I can grab the new bar. Each time I do this I am filled with terror. It doesn’t matter that in all my previous hurdles I have always made it.

Each time, I am afraid I will miss, that I will be crushed on unseen rocks in the bottomless basin between the bars. But I do it anyway. I must.

Perhaps this is the essence of what the mystics call faith. No guarantees, no net, no insurance, but we do it anyway because hanging on to that old bar is no longer an option.

And so, for what seems to be an eternity, but actually lasts a microsecond, I soar across the dark void called “the past is over, the future is not yet here.” It’s called a transition. I have come to believe that it is the only place that real change occurs.

I have noticed that, in our culture, this transition zone is looked upon as a “no-thing,” a no-place between places. Sure, the old trapeze bar was real, and as for the new one coming towards me, I hope that’s real too. But the void in between? That’s just a scary, confusing, disorienting nowhere that must be gotten through as fast and as unconsciously as possible. What a shame!

I have a sneaking suspicion that the transition zone is the only real thing, and the bars are the illusions we dream up to not notice the void. Yes, with all the fear that can accompany transitions, they are still the most vibrant, growth-filled, passionate moments in our lives.

And so, transformation of fear may have nothing to do with making fear go away, but rather with giving ourselves permission to “hang out” in the transition zone between the trapeze bars.

Allowing ourselves to dwell in the only place where change really happens.

It can be terrifying. It can also be enlightening.

Hurdling through the void, we just may learn to fly.