A. . . Searching Mood

For lack of better descriptor.  I guess it would be called searching.

I feel like I am in between two places. Gripping the edge of negativity and unhappiness with white knuckles, but unable to take the frightful leap of faith over to happiness and–dare I say it–optimism.  No, not optimism–too trite.  I have never been the type of person to utter the word “glorious,” and am skeptical with blind optimism in that same way.  I find it phony.  No one is happy ALL the time, and I can’t help but feel optimism just means hiding feelings, ignoring problems, and putting on a front.  Happiness and contentment would be OK with me.  Yeah, contentment, that’s the one.  I know there will be challenges and struggles, but I want to deal gracefully.

My mentality reminds me very much of the Tahoe Ropes Course we went to for a Natural Helpers Club team-building exercise. The course was fairly simple, and the one peril in particular that sticks with me goes like this:  Platform #1, a small jump to platform #2. But the key was that the space was just big enough that it couldn’t be a large step–you HAD to jump across. There was nothing in between platform 1 & 2 to hang on to. You had to have faith and jump over. If it was on the ground, it would be nothing.  From the forest floor, it looked easy–too easy. Laughably easy–how much had we paid to take a phony little jump like that??? Once you climbed far, far up in the trees (10 feet? 80 feet?) I have no idea how high–does the height matter, anyway? High enough that the tiny four foot jump looked like a chasm.  The higher up you are, the greater the distance seems.  And isn’t it funny that no matter what the weather, it always feels windy if you’re elevated enough?  I swear I could feel those tiny, frail platforms swaying.

It was high enough that my survival instict kicked in, adrealine pumped through my heart causing my limbs to shake. I tried to barter with the course worker to extend their hand to me and help me across. Something I would normally be too embarrassed for. And they said no. That was the whole point. You had to have faith and take a leap, risking a fall that long, long way back to the ground.

That’s the way I feel now.  And wouldn’t it be so much easier to step back into the middle of platform 1, hug the tree trunk for safety, and just stay?  The jump over to platform 2/progress just feels so far. . .  But like that day back in seventh grade, I just have to DO it.  Because I know I am strong enough.  Somewhere inside I realize I have the strength, and it’s not about leaping capability anyway.  It’s about mental strength.  The whole thing is a test of mental strength.

And I am strong enough to conquer my body’s natural instincts of staying with the known out of fear only.  So there you have it.  *insert cliche motivational/inspirational quotes here*