I spent most of 2010 outside my comfort zone. For various reasons I was traveling a lot, meeting new people, and figuring out how to navigate through many different (sometimes daunting) situations. It left me feeling mostly adventurous, stimulated, and fulfilled. But when the new year came, I was ready to hibernate. Tired of pushing, I scheduled three solid weeks of not having to be anywhere. I worked in sweat-pants, showered every other day (maybe), and let the pendulum swing back into a the more normal place (for me) which is somewhere between extrovert and introvert, party-animal and hermit.
And it’s this notion of extremes that got me to thinking, maybe I don’t have to be dancing on tables one day and hiding under them the next? Maybe there’s a vastly less dramatic space in the middle which doesn’t require so much pushing. I’ve taken my share of risks, “leaping by faith”. Sometimes it works out, other times I’ve fallen flat on my ass. Because let’s face it, sometimes the net doesn’t appear. And I don’t mean that in a negative way, because I also believe things have a way of working out after a fall. But sometimes we get so distracted (or addicted) to the drama of leaping, that we forget how important it is to ordinarily plod along. Of course there are moments when leaping is necessary: sometimes the lease is on the table, sometimes money needs to be transferred before you know what the end result will be. There are inevitable moments that require us to let go, hold our breath, and jump. But that’s what they are: moments. The rest of our time (lives) is spent doing the less glamorous work of putting one foot in front of the other. Whether you want to be a pilot or a pop star, a writer or photographer, it’s this quiet, ordinary perseverance that gets us there.
Don’t you think? What has been your experience? Has the net always appeared for you? We’d love to hear.