Debouch

Until it’s pointed out to me, I don’t see any significance in today, March 4^th; just another day on the calendar at the tail end of winter, right?  When a new friend of mine shares the symbolism another imprinted on him I know immediately I’m going to write about it.  As I recall his story in my head, it goes something like this:  A friend of his, who embraces implicitly the evanescence of one human’s life, when diagnosed with a terminal illness implores everyone he touches to march forth; life will, and should, go on without him.  It’s nothing short of eerie then when this day ultimately marks his passing.

This has me thinking March 4^th should be a power day, the reminder we need to pause for a moment, consider how we’re moving forward with our lives, refuel and recalibrate if needed, and bask in our progress.  Maybe you’ve disappointed yourself, abandoning your New Year’s resolutions sooner than expected?  Maybe this relentless winter has left you listless, stripped of your inner drive? Maybe you’re feeling like a spectator on the sidelines while everyone else around you appears to be putting one foot in front of the other?

I inventory my advancement since opening 2014 with the decision to find ways to put myself in the hands of another:  I mail my sketchbook to the Brooklyn Art Library in January; my art will be in the hands of many (I hope) as the cross-country tour kicks off in New York in ten short days (tour dates and locations here). I start a hot yoga practice, putting myself in the hands of the instructor, tuning out all distraction as I execute her commands, healing both my body and mind in ways I didn’t think possible.  

I hadn’t considered myself an option for this exercise, and so the real surprise comes when I notice I’m confidently putting myself in my own hands.

 

Sure, I’ve been running my life quite successfully for quite some time now.  I’ve made career choices, parenting choices, relationship choices.  But I can’t say I’ve believed up until recently that I own all of these choices outright, that I can make them independent of the opinions or feelings of others, that I will not sabotage myself choosing what I think another wants me to do over what I know in my heart is best for me, and most importantly, that I will not abdicate my power with the mistaken belief my fate must hinge on the choice of another.

This becomes crystal clear for me in matters of the heart.  The radio talk show host asks women to dial in with their stories of forcing a man’s hand in marriage.  Caller after caller tells her tale of frustration and misery over her boyfriend’s hesitation to commit until finally both the host and I blurt out in unison, “Didn’t any of you ever think you could make the choice to walk away?”

But we don’t.  We wait and we wish things were different.  We worry we’ve invested too much to abandon this.  We worry we’re not getting any younger.  And what will our parents think?  What will our friends think?  We don’t ever for one minute trust that there will be a right time and a right place when the right person stands in front of us ready to march forth.

 

We always have choices.  Sometimes we make ourselves blind to them because we’re afraid of the uncertainty they bring.  And so it’s easier to stay put, convincing ourselves we are powerless, turning over the choice to someone else, readying ourselves to react to whatever gets decided.

I’m not saying it’s easy. What I’m saying is that instead of taking ourselves out of the equation, the powerful move is to assess the situation, recognize the choices that belong to us, weigh the opportunities and risks, and be deliberate and decisive about what we do next.

Our children only run our lives if we let them.  Our bosses only dictate our next assignment if we don’t ask for the one we want.  That guy who can’t answer your question about whether he wants to marry you only holds you hostage if you choose to wait on him.

What are you doing to march forth?