Words carry a great deal of weight. They are powerful beyond measure, whether they are directed at another person or at ourselves. Sometimes, words take on even greater meaning and importance because of who is behind them and when they are shared. Recently, I found myself the recipient of some simple, yet quite impactful words. Those words found a home in my heart and mind, and now, they have found their way here.
I am a firm believer that nothing happens accidentally or randomly in life. We may not understand, agree with, or value certain events or the timing of them, but even during the worst of times, I cling to the hope that things will get better some way, some how, some day. So far, my track record in this area is fairly good, but I still lose sight of this. So, I was very grateful when someone I simply adore, whom I half jokingly refer to as my muse, shared the following words with me:
All is well. Change is coming. . .It’s time to move on.
Not to take anything away from said muse at all, but his message was not the first time that I have heard these words. That said, what they may have lacked in originality, they more than made up for in their uncanny timing and appropriateness. He wrote those in relation to himself, but little did he know, I needed those words at the precise time that he shared them. They hit their mark and left a mark.
Immediately after I read his words, I adopted them as a personal mantra of sorts, as I have been feeling out of sorts of late. Usually, when I am experiencing anxiety, it is because I am facing some sort of hardship, and the anxiety kicks in to serve as my constant companion until the issue is resolved. So, it somewhat threw me for a loop when the anxiety began to creep back in during what has been, and continues to be, a pretty happy and content period of my life.
The more I tried to ignore my anxious feelings, the more that they made their presence known. I could not figure out what was wrong, but a dear friend cut right to the chase. During a call, I explained how anxious I had been feeling, even though there was nothing wrong per se, and I vented my frustration with myself and lamented, Am I crazy? It was a rhetorical question, but she laughed and answered with an emphatic, Yes; you are fucking crazy! Stop this! There is humor in truth and truth in humor, and her response was both spot on and hysterical.
As our conversation continued, the underlying reason for this resurgence of anxiety bubbled to the surface, setting me up perfectly to receive the words of my muse a few days later. As we bantered about my sanity, or lack thereof, we both realized that we had been conditioned from an early age to never get too comfortable when all is well. We both were raised with the central belief to be prepared for the other shoe to drop, because it always does. Or does it?
Long after our conversation ended, I thought about how this bout of anxiety seemed bound and determined to prove that those long-held beliefs were infallible truths. It continued to cause me to question myself and others and to seek out anything and everything to bolster the notion that all may seem well, but it’s not. It was, and is, though.
Despite this revelation, the anxiety remained committed to convincing me that all was not well, and I went in search of any comment, action, and emotion to support its case. By the time, my muse’s words reached me, although they were about his circumstances, I knew in my heart of hearts that they actually were meant for me. His words were my words.
The anxiety has retreated, leaving me to recover and to continue to ponder the words of my muse. Life is not perfect, but all is well. Change is coming, and not all change is negative or to be feared. If the other shoe does drop, I will pick it up and know that it’s time to move on. For now, though, I am standing my ground, with both shoes firmly on my feet.
That’s another story . . .
Categories: That's Another Story
That's Another Story 
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