Do you ever have this feeling? This feeling that you're tangled, held down, held back, by a flurry of tiny ropes, little tasks, things you have to do for others -- kept busy, kept down, kept from moving forward on what you want to move forward on?
Maybe it's just me. Because I just realized that this is exactly how I feel right now. It's actually how I've been feeling for a little while, but it took until this morning for the realization to break over me in all its glory.
I'm usually so organized, but lately I've been feeling on edge, like there's just too much to manage, too many small things for too many people, so that I hesitate a little before opening my email, like who's going to peck at me now? Who's tossing another rope?
And all that? I made that.
It's funny how it's kind of never-ending, this cycle of setting things in motion, thinking it's all good, then it goes along for a while, and bam, comes this feeling of too-much-ness, so then it's pruning, thinning, cutting back to something manageable. And off we go again.
The worst thing I do is that when that first inkling of entanglement comes, that first sensation that it's beginning (again), I close my eyes to it. I think if I ignore it, maybe this time it'll be different. Oh, eternal optimistic goofball. As if. And I muddle along, continuing to move, until eventually, it happens: too many ropes, too many tangles, and I'm stuck.
And then instead of Gulliver, then I'm roaring like King Kong, yearning to break free.
It's like it has to escalate to a certain size, to a certain degree of constriction, of contraction, before there's enough for me to go after with the scissors. The cycle does seem to be getting faster. It's possible I'm becoming more aware, less tolerant of the binding.
So now what?
Well, now I get to sit with it, this Gulliver feeling, for a minute. I get to break it down, write it down, figure out where it's coming from. And only by doing that -- by listing out where this is all coming from -- can I loosen the bonds. Loosen them enough to wriggle free, then turn around and cut them for good.
When this happens -- here's the Pollyanna part -- I realize how big, how huge, a value my own freedom is to me. Yes, I value interdependence, but I have to be constantly vigilant against its counterfeit, co-dependence, which is just a tangle of tiny ropes.
When this happens, then I re-commit to freedom, renew my vows, get clearer, move forward. I stomp around like Kong for a bit, ruthless with the scissors, until I'm free again and moving. It's my chance to look at my work, at my service, and figure out what's not working. It's my chance to do better, to improve, to keep refining as I build a beautiful life.
But I keep my scissors handy because I know it'll come again. It'll happen again that I'm snagged, but I'll be ready even faster -- snip, snip -- to cut myself loose again.
What's holding you back? What's holding you down? Cut yourself loose. Break free.