The Blue & Yellow Post

Right at this very moment two of my girlfriends are changing.

One is head over heels in love and planning to get married in her garden. And the other has just resigned, rented out her home, and has booked a flight to Kathmandu to work on a community project.

It’s not the first time either of them has done such a thing. 

What is it about our lives? We repeat things until we get it right, or hope to get it right, or get it almost right. In any event, who says what’s right except our own in-built moral compass. What interests me is that we keep repeating things.

Just this morning I was talking with friends about this process. How do we stay true to our path? How do we change the direction of that path if it reaches a dead end? And will we know the dead end when it appears? And what about those forks that lead you in circles back on the same path. The forks I call habit.  

I’m aware that when we change one part of a puzzle other parts of the puzzle adjust, sometimes with resistance and other times to strengthen the new configuration.

Right now I am changing the way I live and work. I change the way I live in my house by decorating and moving things around. I change the way I work by linking to new media that enables me to operate from home in a far more global way than ever before. All fine because it’s just about me. Where it gets tricky is when other people come into the equation.

This darling soon-to-be-wed friend has had to change arrangements for the overseas trip we were going to take together.  The sudden change raised a question of paying more money or losing money to adjust for that change.

My first reaction to the travel change was a default reaction to rescue the situation, to ensure someone else was made happy. To pick up the extra cost so she could be happy. But it didn’t sit right. Something tweaked in this newly-renovated-self. Something made me put my needs out there.

And here’s where the stress arose. If I told her what I wanted and needed, would this friend be angry? Would my needs outweigh hers? Would I lose her as a friend? Whose fault was it anyway? Why rock the boat!?

No need to worry, of course. Once all the information was laid on the table and because she’s a friend, her reaction was of course perfect acquiescence and love. I needn’t have worried.  

But I did. Not that I worried for nothing. Rather I worried just enough for the lesson to be remembered well, and the dead-end behaviour to stop.

So I dare say we will keep doing the same things again and again. We’ll repeat the same lesson many times before we’re through. It’s how we do it, each time it comes up, that make the difference, not getting it right.