Today’s post is from my beloved pal Jeff. I always forget how tall he is if I go for a while without seeing him. We get the same drink at Starbucks: No water extra hot chai. We also get way pissed if they forget and add water. He took the best pictures of me that have ever been taken, and possibly ever will be.
I’d like to blame Starbucks for making those delicious carb-filled blueberry streusal muffins that I am very fond of. Or Mark Zuckerburg for inventing such a riveting and addictive thing as Facebook that the minutes in the day seem to disappear so quickly and I find myself lost in a world of vicarious living. Or Nordstrom Bank for selfishly demanding that I pay them every month. Or I blame the city in which I live, or the mood I’m in, or THEM. Or the economy. Yes, I blame the economy.
I blame all that for my discontent, my frustration, my lack of forward movement, my missed opportunities. It makes perfect sense. I mean why would I be the problem? Yet when I sit down and actually think about it, I realize that I am unfortunately the one in my own way.
I’m the one keeping myself from living the sort of life I want to live, from being the type of person I want to be, from leading my own life.
And to be honest, this is terrifying.
Quite. Because it means admitting to myself that I’ve got the power, that I have a choice to make, and well, that I could very well lead myself off a cliff. So the bottom line is that, it’s up to me.
My life, my personal development, my growth, my story is up to me.
And of course, with this reality comes a great deal of responsibility and opportunity, and I suppose, a great deal of liability.
You see, I go through phases or cycles. As much as I hate habits, I am a creature of them. Blast. My phases usually come in threes. It’s odd but true. It usually takes me three months (or thereabouts) to begin to see signs of or at least admit to a problem. And of course, I realize that it is usually my neglect to care for my self that I gets me in this place to begin with. This usually comes in the form of me believing that it’s everyone and everything else’s fault or responsibility and failing to give myself permission to be, to trust and to lead myself. I give too much reign to what Michele would call external factors, and I somehow begin to operate under a prescribed set of expactations–of supposed-tos. And when I fail to meet said expectations, I feel guilty or worse–like a failure. Gasp.
That my friends is my greatest fear–that I will fail to live up to the supposed-tos.
One of the most pivotal moments in my life in the past year was when Michele said to me, “Jeff, the thing is…those rules–those supposed-tos–don’t actually exist. You just think they do, and you buy into them. It’s actually your life. You set the rules.” I paused. And I processed what she said. This statement–this reality–shifted my perspective and modus operandi. Come to find out, I’m the one who scribbled down that list and somehow convinced myself that it was the powers that be. So if I wanted to choose a better story for myself I would have to give myself permission to create a new list–a new set of rules–that would be all my own.
Since that conversation with Michele, I began (key word = began) to give myself permission to simply pause, to give myself time, to risk, to fail and to live by my own rules even if they didn’t make a whole lot of sense to everyone else. So in a effort to–um–lead my own life, I packed up my apartment in Santa Barbara, hauled everything to storage, and set out. Yes that’s right. I left the comforts of coastal living for night-after-night on friends couches or air-mattresses for two months.
Why? Because I wanted to push the envelope.
I’d been itching to wander a little bit. Life in my bubble had gotten rather old and boring and stale. Sure it was safe and secure and not a whole lot went awry, but stagnation was all up in there. So then, I decided to pop my proverbial bubble that I had been living in for six years. That bubble looked like fresh organic food, sandy beaches, wooded mountains, pretty people and sun-shine. It was perfect really.
My bubble was partly self-constructed and partly fertilized by the realities of life in the paradise of Santa Barbara. I’d become accustomed to my extra-hot-no-water-chai lattes, my 75 degree weather, my organic produce and my pinot grigio, my turkey bacon sandwich from South Coast Deli, and of course, my awesome, little apartment with my groovy square plates and modern furnishings from cb2. I was one cool cat. Spoiled really. And quite fond of it. I rather enjoyed Santa barbara and all it’s pretty-ness. Comfy-cozy I was.
Yet in the midst of all that, I felt as though I had gotten to a plateau of inactivity. I was governed by the supposed-tos, and what I really wanted was to be freed-up from all the security, sameness, consistency, routine, and mundane everydayness that was ever-present in my life. I’ve realized through circumstances, countless conversations with Michele and thoughtful introspection, that I’m a lover of change and new-ness. Yet I’m safe and cautious. Almost too much so.
It’s not so much caution as it is fear. Fear that I’m going to do the wrong thing, or disappoint people, or waste time, or miss out on something, or the worst-thing-ever…look like an idiot or like I don’t have it together. Well friends, the truth is that I don’t have it all together. Nor will I ever. And I don’t need to.
I need to give myself permission to make mistakes, to disappoint, to miss out because, really, that’s life and, it’s reality. I can’t realistically expect myself to live up to a standard of perfection that doesn’t even exist. It’s just plain silly and stupid, and yet again, it’s another example of me getting in my own way and of me neglecting to lead my life and keeping myself from living the sort of life I want to live.
So go take your own road trip. Set off in search of something new. And don’t be surprised if the most exciting discovery you make as you travel the highways and byways of life is- you. Yourself. In all your glory. Go ahead, take the risk already.
Jeffrey Shipley is a photographer, designer and lover of the simple moments in everyday life. A communication studies graduate from Westmont College, he’s fond of all things modern and constantly finds inspiration in what he sees around him. You can read more about his photographic-wanderings and life-musings at http://jshipleyblog.com.
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