The things I'm afraid of.
I wrote a lot this summer about irrational fears. Tonight, I was once again face to face with on of my most irrational fears. (No, thankfully it wasn't sharks, which might my number 1 irrational fear).
Opening those terrible crescent roll containers from the start. You know, the type that pop open.
For some reason, I am always 100% convinced that this container of processed, chemically altered "dough" is going to explode. No lie. (Hey, with all those chemicals, it could happen. maybe...and generally I am against this type of thing anyway - but it makes quick flatbread for tacos).
It seems like the last few times I've tried to open this container, I mange to rip all of the outside wrapping off without it actually opening.
This is when it gets worst.
Now, I have to use a spoon and pry it open. The whole time Leah and I were trying to open it tonight, I kept saying out loud, "it's not going to explode in my face. it's not going to explore in my face."
And of course, it didn't. (Actually, it had more in common with slowly deflating a balloon, then a bomb).
Yet, every time I face this cruel Pillsbury invention, the same irrational fear comes back. It's a vicious cycle.
Do this relate to anything? Well, not really. But it is a good mini illustration of things that I fear - if I could just step outside of myself for a second and realize how silly they are.
I am always afraid of making the "wrong" choice, even when all my options are never really "wrong." I could've gone to Michigan. I could've stayed in Illinois. or I could've come to Kansas -which is what I did.
There is a episode from this season of "Community," where the character Abed fears that another character, Jeff, is about to create multiple parallel universes when the group decides to roll dice to see who is going to go pick up their pizza. The whole episode goes on to tell what would've happened if one particular person when instead of another. I don't believe their are parallel universes, but it does make me wonder what would've happened if I had chosen differently. and why this still feels like a big deal.
Today was my first day of work, so, of course, it was overwhelming. (I had 55 emails waiting for me). And being in a state of transitioning, it's really hard to not dwell of what I have to let go of from Illinois. It's pretty challenging, despite the good community that was waiting for me here. As I drove here, it felt like hope was draining out of me like air from a balloon (yep. there's that same balloon imagery again). If I would've stayed, what would my life eventually looked like?
Or what if Michigan had worked out. Or if I would've just taken that leap of faith and moved there without knowing where I was going to work. (I got an email today that might've been a lead for me if I was there). How would've that shaped my life?
But I came here. and ultimately this is what will shape my life. We looked at a rental house down the street this evening (mostly just for fun). It was a nice idea, but pretty pricey for me right now. But I've been thinking about this lately, and every time I think about "putting down roots" (in both the literal and cliche ways), I feel a tiny bit of panic in me. I am not trying to think about how long I will be here or not be here. But moving into a house feels like a long term thing.
That scares the crap out of me.
Sometimes I wonder if all this moving around that I am so good at is messing with my ability to commit to anything long term.
Right now, it feels like it. And I am not so sure this thing isn't going to explode in my face.
Opening those terrible crescent roll containers from the start. You know, the type that pop open.
For some reason, I am always 100% convinced that this container of processed, chemically altered "dough" is going to explode. No lie. (Hey, with all those chemicals, it could happen. maybe...and generally I am against this type of thing anyway - but it makes quick flatbread for tacos).
It seems like the last few times I've tried to open this container, I mange to rip all of the outside wrapping off without it actually opening.
This is when it gets worst.
Now, I have to use a spoon and pry it open. The whole time Leah and I were trying to open it tonight, I kept saying out loud, "it's not going to explode in my face. it's not going to explore in my face."
And of course, it didn't. (Actually, it had more in common with slowly deflating a balloon, then a bomb).
Yet, every time I face this cruel Pillsbury invention, the same irrational fear comes back. It's a vicious cycle.
Do this relate to anything? Well, not really. But it is a good mini illustration of things that I fear - if I could just step outside of myself for a second and realize how silly they are.
I am always afraid of making the "wrong" choice, even when all my options are never really "wrong." I could've gone to Michigan. I could've stayed in Illinois. or I could've come to Kansas -which is what I did.
There is a episode from this season of "Community," where the character Abed fears that another character, Jeff, is about to create multiple parallel universes when the group decides to roll dice to see who is going to go pick up their pizza. The whole episode goes on to tell what would've happened if one particular person when instead of another. I don't believe their are parallel universes, but it does make me wonder what would've happened if I had chosen differently. and why this still feels like a big deal.
Today was my first day of work, so, of course, it was overwhelming. (I had 55 emails waiting for me). And being in a state of transitioning, it's really hard to not dwell of what I have to let go of from Illinois. It's pretty challenging, despite the good community that was waiting for me here. As I drove here, it felt like hope was draining out of me like air from a balloon (yep. there's that same balloon imagery again). If I would've stayed, what would my life eventually looked like?
Or what if Michigan had worked out. Or if I would've just taken that leap of faith and moved there without knowing where I was going to work. (I got an email today that might've been a lead for me if I was there). How would've that shaped my life?
But I came here. and ultimately this is what will shape my life. We looked at a rental house down the street this evening (mostly just for fun). It was a nice idea, but pretty pricey for me right now. But I've been thinking about this lately, and every time I think about "putting down roots" (in both the literal and cliche ways), I feel a tiny bit of panic in me. I am not trying to think about how long I will be here or not be here. But moving into a house feels like a long term thing.
That scares the crap out of me.
Sometimes I wonder if all this moving around that I am so good at is messing with my ability to commit to anything long term.
Right now, it feels like it. And I am not so sure this thing isn't going to explode in my face.
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