My dad accomplished most everything in his life through sheer force of will and hard work, and I was molded in his image.
My naturally dreamy, star-kissed way was seen as ‘unrealistic.’ How could I possibly survive with my head in the clouds? I was packed off to the school of hard knocks where I learned there were no free rides.
My father’s words grew inside me and became my own, an inner taskmaster, reminding me of the necessity to pay, by the sweat of my brow, for everything that came my way.
The starry-eyed dreamer bowed out, ceding the stage to the industrious worker, grind-, grind-, grinding away to earn my keep.
The magic was gone.
Before the dreamy little girl went into hiding, her experience had been full of free rides – magical moments of beauty and serendipity. This was gifted to her – it was all ‘unearned,’ except in the sense that she earned it by being part of that blissful flow.
I have come full circle. I am rescuing the dreamy little girl who went into hiding so long ago, and I treasure what she knew so naturally.
As I wrote in an earlier post (Who’s Driving Your Life?), I have retired my inner taskmaster, and declared my inner slave ‘free.’
So far, so good.
However, the puzzle remains: I am not quite sure how to ‘be’ in this new/old way.
being my father’s daughter, my go-to strategy has been to bring my desires into creation through force of determination and hard work.
It no longer suits me.
It is, however, a habit. Like a parrot pecking at a button to get a pellet of food, I lunge into ‘work mode’ when given half the chance.
I need to tell myself: Reba, darling, ease up!
No need to peck at that button and get that dry pellet. There’s a feast just over there.
Go on, stroll over to the buffet table – have whatever you want. It’s a banquet, and you’re http://ropewalkfenwick.com/antibiotics/ invited.
I need to remind myself: I’ve been a slave, but now I am free!
I look around at my dingy workplace, and I don’t want to stay here a moment longer.
I’ve been strapped to a workbench, nose to grindstone, when all the while there’s a celebration going on, just outside the doors.
I look up from my grindstone, and my hunger for freedom becomes a force I can no longer ignore.
Quickly, quickly, I peel off my blinders, and, hands trembling, I unstrap the belt tying me to my workbench.
I rise and move towards the exit.
I reach the door handles, and I tug open the creaky doors of this dark and dusty workplace.
I stand on the threshold, stunned and overwhelmed.
I gaze around, disoriented, blinking – blinded by the sudden light.
I am not sure where to look. It’s all a hazy blur.
I’ve been laboring in the dark for so long that I can’t quite make out what is out there yet, but…
I have the scent of freedom in my nostrils, and some shapes are emerging from within the brightness.
I’m going to have to practice looking up, looking around, and seeing what delights me.
I have to get used to giving my soul the freedom to wander.
The dingy workplace fades away as I step into a world of light and color, fragrance and taste, laughter and delight.
I am living in full color. I am a star in my own show. I am partaking of life’s banquet.
I am accepting the ride that’s beckoning me to jump onboard. It’s free, and it’s been waiting for me all along.
My challenge to you:
Look up from your ‘workbench’ and expand your view, and your broader view will expand what is possible in your life.
Allow the sunlight in. Envision something new.