Tightrope

I think I've effectively established that I have a lot of feelings. Lately, I've noticed that they tend to fall into one of two categories, creating two opposing mindsets:

On one hand, I'm tempted to let the chaos that the past year of my life has created continue to crush me. Sometimes I still feel completely suffocated by it all. My mind easily and routinely dissolves into a swarm of lies and fears and doubts about who I am and what I'm worth and how my life will turn out. In this headspace, it's easier to be bitter and cynical. Love and marriage are cheap and fleeting. Being divorced equals being damaged and undesirable. The word recycled comes up for me a lot; it's the story of my love life: reduce, reuse, recycle. Depressing, right? I've been conditioned to believe a lot of depressing things; and those depressing things have become accustomed to running the show. All of this makes me want to shrink and give up and hide forever.

On the other hand, though, there are moments when I feel strangely but completely inspired and capable of rising to this challenge. In these moments, my head feels clear and it's easy to believe what's true. I know who I am and that I deserve big love and beautiful things. In this headspace, I can be big and bold and brave and hope that someone will love me well someday. Sometimes, I can even one-up hope and dare to actually believe for it. I can stand up under the pain and silence the lies. I can believe that love will win and that it's worth fighting for.

Right now, it feels as though I'm constantly walking a very thin tightrope above and between these two extremes with grief in one hand and hope in the other. All of this exists inside me, and I never know which voice will be louder. Sometimes I get to choose, but not consistently yet. I also tend to trick myself into thinking that choosing between the two is a one-time thing, but it's absolutely not. I have to choose every day which side to fall to if I can't manage to keep my balance. Sometimes as often as every minute.

Historically, the tension and the contradiction have been primarily frustrating and discouraging; but I'm learning to replace my hardwired either/or mindset with a both/and mindset instead. As difficult as it is, I'm learning to be okay with walking the tightrope, because grief still needs space. I'm still figuring out how to let grief and hope coexist. Allowing them to share space feels dangerous and risky, but also necessary to the healing process. So maybe the challenge isn't getting to the end of the tightrope, and maybe success and failure aren't measured by how many times I fall. Maybe my challenge right now is to focus on finding balance by giving grief and hope the space they each need and deserve. Maybe it's learning to embrace the tension and the necessary trial and error and acquiring grace, strength, and poise in the process.

Maybe the tightrope is less of an obstacle and more of an opportunity to become an acrobat.