Hitting the Wall
Tonight I hit a wall.
Or the wall hit me.
Either way, winding down to go to bed, I checked my work email and in it sat a missive that was scathing in its delivery and, for the first time in a long time, I found my eyes tearing up, followed by the sudden wave of tears washing down my cheeks. I write this because I think this moment is important, this moment of sharing my utter vulnerability, simply because it's the last thing I want to do. To expose myself and to demonstrate my weakness in a real way. It screams against every cell in my body that wants to be always strong, always solid, always....
But in this moment, I am none. I am a tangled web which wavers in the air with each sob. I am remorseful, I am afraid, I feel frustrated. I am hurt. My impulse is to hide, to shut off all the lights, to turn off my computer and to just hide and to not face the problem. The problem is confusion, frustration at something which seems so simple, so important and I wonder, "Why can't this just happen? Why is this is so difficult to do? Am I miscommunicating or am I not the right one to communicate this?" Instead, the problem causes me to keep running into the same wall over and over and I ask, "What if I should just walk away? Is my pride getting in the way? What if I were to discover that I am not the right person for this task?" Has my thirst, my deep desire to contribute in some way overshadowed my rational ability to recognize what my strengths are? Maybe I am not the right person for the job and I just need to admit it?
I am so sad right now. Maybe I just need to step out of the picture. I ask this earnestly, not dramatically. Good works are in the process and those are so important, so vital, to the health of the future. But maybe I don't need to carry those into the future. I am not admitting defeat, necessarily, but I am fully aware right now of how weak I feel in the moment, of how difficult this moment is. But I feel that this is so important, and no matter who carries it, it must be carried to completion.
And all I can do is cry. Which is good; it washes my soul, it burns my eyes, and my heart, oh, dear little heart, it hurts. And that's life. I accept it, I acknowledge it, but it hurts. And the wall just looms over me. Tomorrow will be better, I hope. But maybe a little quiet time is in order. So I will work on it and tomorrow I will be, hopefully, a little wiser, a little more alert. May I learn. May I grow. May I go as I need to.
Or the wall hit me.
Either way, winding down to go to bed, I checked my work email and in it sat a missive that was scathing in its delivery and, for the first time in a long time, I found my eyes tearing up, followed by the sudden wave of tears washing down my cheeks. I write this because I think this moment is important, this moment of sharing my utter vulnerability, simply because it's the last thing I want to do. To expose myself and to demonstrate my weakness in a real way. It screams against every cell in my body that wants to be always strong, always solid, always....
But in this moment, I am none. I am a tangled web which wavers in the air with each sob. I am remorseful, I am afraid, I feel frustrated. I am hurt. My impulse is to hide, to shut off all the lights, to turn off my computer and to just hide and to not face the problem. The problem is confusion, frustration at something which seems so simple, so important and I wonder, "Why can't this just happen? Why is this is so difficult to do? Am I miscommunicating or am I not the right one to communicate this?" Instead, the problem causes me to keep running into the same wall over and over and I ask, "What if I should just walk away? Is my pride getting in the way? What if I were to discover that I am not the right person for this task?" Has my thirst, my deep desire to contribute in some way overshadowed my rational ability to recognize what my strengths are? Maybe I am not the right person for the job and I just need to admit it?
I am so sad right now. Maybe I just need to step out of the picture. I ask this earnestly, not dramatically. Good works are in the process and those are so important, so vital, to the health of the future. But maybe I don't need to carry those into the future. I am not admitting defeat, necessarily, but I am fully aware right now of how weak I feel in the moment, of how difficult this moment is. But I feel that this is so important, and no matter who carries it, it must be carried to completion.
And all I can do is cry. Which is good; it washes my soul, it burns my eyes, and my heart, oh, dear little heart, it hurts. And that's life. I accept it, I acknowledge it, but it hurts. And the wall just looms over me. Tomorrow will be better, I hope. But maybe a little quiet time is in order. So I will work on it and tomorrow I will be, hopefully, a little wiser, a little more alert. May I learn. May I grow. May I go as I need to.