At every major juncture in life there is a choice which will inevitably change the course of your life beyond that point. We’re very good at postponing our happiness until we reach one of these pivotal milestones. ‘When I finish college…’, ‘when I get married….’, ‘when we have kids…’ blah blah. The list is endless. For some inexplicable reason happiness can only ever be measured by these mile markers along the road of life.
What we fail to realize is that it’s the little choices at every turn that shape which major milestones we’ll eventually pass along the way. Not every road passes the College sign, or the turn-off to Marriage and Kids.
We’re so hung up on looking for the big stuff that the little details fall by the wayside, unnoticed and ignored.
Hindsight will eventually let you see those details for what they are. Life. Those details are your life. Maybe by the time you opt to use the Hindsight feature, it’s too late to change anything.
I’ve been battling the meaning of life questions internally for 2 decades. I’ve had some epiphanies along the way. I’ve also found more questions which have driven me to endless distraction. What it usually boils down to is the bottomless question of: What am I meant to be doing with my life? What will make me happy? What am I missing?!
It turns out those weren’t the right questions. Not for me anyway. They’re more like sub-questions inside of a larger problem. My question has always been: where do I belong? Through a long convoluted and serendipitous set of events, I ended up spending my 2 week vacation in Scotland this year. It was the best impulsive decision I’ve made in years! In the space of 2 short weeks I found what I’ve been searching for all this time: Balance, beauty and bliss.
Almost 3 weeks after returning from Scotland I had a hysterectomy. That was 10 days ago. It’s hard to believe that a month ago I was 4,000 miles away from where I am now. I’m not feeling particularly balanced, blissful or much in the mood to find the beauty in the details right now.
On Friday, 13th November 2015 I stood on the shores of Loch Ness in the rain, watching the mist roll in over the water. I stood under a tree at the water’s edge and made a promise. I bought 2 crystals in Edinburgh, Falcon’s Eyes, and I tossed one of them into the Loch. The other went into my bra next to my heart where it stayed every day until I went into the hospital; an invisible tie to the one place on earth I felt most at home. It’s a constant reminder to keep the promise I made that day; to find my way home, no matter what it takes. I gave myself 1 year to make good on that promise.
Scotland brought me balance, beauty and bliss. Spiritual and emotional balance. The details that bog down my daily existence stateside didn’t make an appearance at all while I was there. I wasn’t calorie-obsessed like I am here. If I wanted a cream tea, I had one. I fed myself delicious foods in just the right quantities. Nothing was supersized and it was easier to buy food that wasn’t caked in chemicals and artificial crap. I’m not saying those options weren’t around, they just weren’t as prevalent. Food was a pleasure, not a daily demon to be fought.
In the 2 weeks I was there I had either breakfast or afternoon tea at the same coffee shop on the corner every day. I ate my way through a chunk of their menu. Seriously, they should pay their chef whatever the hell he wants because it was sublime. The staff came over to say goodbye on the last day I was there. All of them. They were such a brilliant bunch.
There was beauty in everything. The architecture, the history, the people, the countryside. The Highlands were breathtakingly beautiful despite the desolation of winter. I’m not religious but I went into churches and cathedrals to soak up the silence and beauty of it all. There was so much detail in the carvings and glass that you could spend weeks there and not see all the meaning hidden in the details.
Finding balance and being surrounded by the beauty of the place led to pure bliss. It rained most days yet walking out in the rain didn’t make me cranky. There was so much to see and hear and taste that the rain was just another detail in the daily tapestry of Scottish life.
There’s something that has drawn me to that place for as long as I can remember. This was not my first trip there and each time the feeling has been the same: I’m finally home.
Leaving this time was the hardest thing I’ve done in years. I couldn’t stop the tears when the plane left the tarmac and headed south to London.
It feels like a lifetime ago since I left and a lot has changed since I got back to Chicago. My body has undergone a bit of an adjustment and is still recovering. Work is still the same and I know it needs to change. Food has once again become a daily battle and the balance I brought back with me has been replaced with internal chaos.
I’ve just hurtled past the ‘NO KIDS’ mile marker on my path. I’m not entirely sure what the next major intersection is going to be, I’m hoping it is a one way ticket to Edinburgh International but that remains to be seen.
The reality vs. the expectation for the surgery ended up poles apart. I was expecting it to be more painful and traumatic than it has been. That’s in large part thanks to my doctor, who I’m sure is an angel, and the stellar nurses who looked after me in hospital. They were absolute angels and I’m sure it could have gone very differently had they not been part of my care.
Strangely enough, the hardest part of it all has been the limitations. I cannot drive for a few weeks, I’m largely dependent on others for help which is something I’m finding hard to adjust to. I’m used to getting things done and being the one others rely on for help. Being the helpless one has been difficult and has had me in tears in my bed more than once. I’m SO grateful to my sister for everything she’s doing for me, she’s been my rock since the op and there’s no measure of thanks that would do her justice.
What I didn’t expect was the absence of friends. People I thought would be there haven’t been and that’s been gutting. I guess I expected they would help me in the ways I’ve helped them and that hasn’t been the case. It’s been hard to accept that they haven’t been there when I’ve needed them but it is what it is. It has made me question my role in their lives and the level of care I put into others at the expense of my sanity. My priorities need to shift because at the moment they’ve heavily stacked on the ‘what’s good for everyone else’ side of the equation. There’s no balance.
Between today and tomorrow are a bunch of little choices and teeny little winding roads that can be taken. In among all of that is balance, beauty and bliss. There’s also chaos, carnage and mayhem if I don’t choose wisely.
Whatever meaning of life questions you’re grappling with right now, pick one thing (or 3) that you know brings you a measure of peace and happiness. Once you have that, start looking for the little decisions that will take you to more of that. It is the consistent choices in favor of your goal that will eventually get you there.
