I am processing through some serious shit today. I have an hour until my blog is supposed to be posted. I have spent the entire morning staring at the page only to write 326 words. That’s not even true. I have spent the entire morning staring at the page AND watching clips of the Graham Norton show AND answering emails (but not enough) AND watching my newly acquired Betta fish swim around his tank. I have also been making some impressive lists of things I am supposed to do today. All of these lists are in my head of course. And none of these things are actually happening at this moment.
The problem isn’t the blog. It isn’t the topic. I really like the topic. And I am one of those weird people who loves writing blogs. I love writing in general. I am a total nerd that way. The problem is the futility. It is brutal today. And it is paralyzing me. You may think that is rare in my life considering how much I post. It is rarer than it used to be. But it’s not as rare as I want it to be. I want it to be nonexistent of course. And before you ask if I have written from it (and I know you’re asking), I have written many times but this part isn’t quite ready to budge yet. And not surprisingly, my controller is freaking out. I am running out of time to keep my commitments and they won’t have it. That is unacceptable. But my controller is at a loss.
They have been at a loss for a while now. The contracts I have been releasing are so confusing to my controller and my defenders in general. I have lived my life for these contracts. I have made my life rules based on these contracts. Almost every step I have taken or not taken has come from my need to uphold these contracts. So as I break these contracts, life feels empty. It feels undefined. It feels like there is truly no reason to move forward. What happens now? If I am free to do whatever I want with my life, what does that mean? Has my life so far been for nothing? Has it all been moving down the wrong road? What am I supposed to change? Anything? I just don’t know.
I can feel my parts grasping for anything to take my mind off the empty confusion of having no real direction forward. I see them looking for the next travel experience, another house to move to, more new pets, new hobbies, even something to stress over. But I made a rule a long time ago. When I feel like this, I take no new steps and make no new commitments. I have learned from my mistakes. And my parts are pissed about it. Instead, I will sit in this house and do my work and nurse my aging dog and make sure my kids have the childhood I didn’t. And it will be hard to feel motivated on some days like today. And when the futility fog of ended contracts lifts, I will have new inspiration to do the next thing.
I am sure this is not the last time I will see this place. And I hate it. But when it lifts, I am left with more energy, new ideas and inspiration to live in a new way. I just have to hold on for the ride. And I will because I have this awareness. One day, I will be able to make all my decisions without considering the agreements I made to my family. I will be able to take steps without concern for whether or not my eventual savior will approve of it. I will be able to step out into the world in powerful ways without the fear of punishment that keeps me small. But it is definitely a process.
Freedom from contracts comes at a cost. It comes with confusion we can only end internally. It comes with the anger, futility and grief of recognizing we have lived a life without that freedom. It comes with the emptiness of having to rediscover who we are at the core. It isn’t easy to hold space for this. The defenders will have us convinced it isn’t worth it. But don’t believe what they have to say about it. There is something better than comes on the other side of contracts. And we are meant to get there.
*Join me this month in Survivor’s Guide for Life as we explore Breaking Contracts for an Authentic Life.
Thanks really needed to read this today feeling the same
Love to you Kate!
“It comes with confusion we can only end internally. It comes with the anger, futility and grief of recognizing we have lived a life without that freedom. It comes with the emptiness of having to rediscover who we are at the core.”
Yes, it does! Thank you for putting into words what I (and I imagine so many others) am going through right now. The path of healing and changing my life has gotten me to a place where I feel like a stripped-down car. Not just the car, though, but also the mechanic who’s deciding which parts to keep, which to discard, which new ones to add, or whether to scrap the car (i.e. my life) altogether.
That’s a great analogy Jeri!
Thank you so much for your vulnerability. It really helps to see you model how you’re working through this…noticing the parts and accepting them where they are, sitting with the yuck and not pretending to like it…and self-compassion in the midst of everything. Sometimes I get discouraged with “setbacks” wondering when I’ll get to some elusive place of having worked through all my stuff. It really helps to see how I can be okay even when I’m not.
Thank you so much Mindy! I am glad this writing helped you today! It is such a difficult journey.