I've decided that I'm indecisive.
I once again find myself at a crossroads.
To the right is a path I'm confortable with. I know it well, inside and out. It feels like an old pair of shoes, albeit a pair of shoes that leave you with blisters because they have begun to fit so poorly. But you know everything about those shoes, that path. It is safe. It has caused misery, but it is safe. And after a life of uncertainty, heartache, and instability, it looks very appealing, no matter how many blisters you might get from it. You're used to the pain, so at least you know that if you choose this path, there won't be any surprises.
To the left is a path that is lit up and dark all at once. You can see certain things down the road while others are shrouded in mystery and shadow. It's exciting and stomach churning at the same time. It calls to you but frightens you. It's the path of change - the road less traveled. You don't know what to expect on this journey - it could be fraught with peril. Or it could lead to your most perfect happiness. You want to know but are terrified to find out.
I'm looking at these two paths right now. I'm in the driver's seat - do I go right, or do I go left? Do I continue on with what I know, what is safe, what feels like that old pair of shoes. Or do I change direction, letting myself be open to know experiences and a way of life that is different than what I've known?
In my impetuous youth, I would not have been standing at the crossroads, debating. I would rush headlong into whatever my heart told me to do without a thought of consequence. That's what it is to be an impetuous youth, and it's an exhilirating time. But as we age, something strange starts to happen. We long for what the older folks call "security." Maybe that's because those older folks spend the bulk of our impetuous youth beating into us that security is what we really want, what we really need,just as older folks did to them when they were impetuous. "Safe." "Secure." "Slow and steady wins the race." My father still wants me to get a secure job with a solid future and a 401K and retire when I'm 65. Because it's what he's doing, and it's what his father did before him.
I can choose to make a career in martial arts. All I have to do is say the word. I know martial arts. I know how to run a school, how to teach classes, how to enroll new students and upgrade existing ones. I know it like an old pair of shoes, the ones that give you blisters. And I also know that it is not what drives my heart, and as I plod along on the path that veers to the right, I constantly look longingly over my shoulder at the path that travels to the left - what I am missing out on over there?
A decision must be made and made soon. I already know in my heart what I want. Now all I need is the courage to take the first step toward the path that will take me to where I truly want to go.
To the right is a path I'm confortable with. I know it well, inside and out. It feels like an old pair of shoes, albeit a pair of shoes that leave you with blisters because they have begun to fit so poorly. But you know everything about those shoes, that path. It is safe. It has caused misery, but it is safe. And after a life of uncertainty, heartache, and instability, it looks very appealing, no matter how many blisters you might get from it. You're used to the pain, so at least you know that if you choose this path, there won't be any surprises.
To the left is a path that is lit up and dark all at once. You can see certain things down the road while others are shrouded in mystery and shadow. It's exciting and stomach churning at the same time. It calls to you but frightens you. It's the path of change - the road less traveled. You don't know what to expect on this journey - it could be fraught with peril. Or it could lead to your most perfect happiness. You want to know but are terrified to find out.
I'm looking at these two paths right now. I'm in the driver's seat - do I go right, or do I go left? Do I continue on with what I know, what is safe, what feels like that old pair of shoes. Or do I change direction, letting myself be open to know experiences and a way of life that is different than what I've known?
In my impetuous youth, I would not have been standing at the crossroads, debating. I would rush headlong into whatever my heart told me to do without a thought of consequence. That's what it is to be an impetuous youth, and it's an exhilirating time. But as we age, something strange starts to happen. We long for what the older folks call "security." Maybe that's because those older folks spend the bulk of our impetuous youth beating into us that security is what we really want, what we really need,just as older folks did to them when they were impetuous. "Safe." "Secure." "Slow and steady wins the race." My father still wants me to get a secure job with a solid future and a 401K and retire when I'm 65. Because it's what he's doing, and it's what his father did before him.
I can choose to make a career in martial arts. All I have to do is say the word. I know martial arts. I know how to run a school, how to teach classes, how to enroll new students and upgrade existing ones. I know it like an old pair of shoes, the ones that give you blisters. And I also know that it is not what drives my heart, and as I plod along on the path that veers to the right, I constantly look longingly over my shoulder at the path that travels to the left - what I am missing out on over there?
A decision must be made and made soon. I already know in my heart what I want. Now all I need is the courage to take the first step toward the path that will take me to where I truly want to go.