As we live and as we are, Simplicity – with a capital “S” – is difficult to comprehend nowadays. We are no longer truly simple. We no longer live in simple terms or places. Life is a more complex struggle now. It is now valiant to be simple: a courageous thing to even want to be simple. It is a spiritual thing to comprehend what simplicity means.
– Frank Lloyd Wright, The Natural House
Earlier tonight, I tweeted this simple message:
The more you wish things would change, the more they stay the same.
At the end of Friday, I could have sworn it was meant to be a Monday. Things did not go my way all day. The only exception for the day was having a good morning with my daughter – a busy morning with her stacking couch cushions and other objects everywhere, but a good morning, none the less. The more the hands of the clock moved around, the more I thought about everything I wish I could change in my life, but I am rather powerless to change it.
I have gone through most of my life trying to focus on what I can control: how I do my work, how I exercise, how I express love. I can’t say I have done all of that successfully, but I have never tried to force others to change and tried even harder not to become stressed out with the decisions of others. That much I can say I have succeeded at.
Other situations, I feel utterly trapped in how to respond. There are no right answers anymore, and no middle ground solution either. I never feel comfortable putting pressure on people to make better decisions, because inevitably it leads to a larger confrontation – something I try to avoid at all costs. I understand that some arguments are healthy in a relationship, but there has to be a better approach when it comes to people who aren’t in relationships.
The more I think about the situations I am stuck in, the one common thread they have is I am a more rational/realistic thinker, and the other person is more of an emotional thinker. At times, my way of thinking leads to paralysis by analysis, but more often than not it leads to well thought out plans covering all the bases. I try to think about how my decisions will affect everyone involved, putting emphasis on others and not myself. The emotional thinkers I have issues with react to problems, thinking they are much larger than they tend to be, and seem to lose control if things don’t go according to their plan. They don’t think through their suggestions in the same way I do. They want the problem fixed, at all costs, as soon as possible.
These situations are absolutely draining to me.
I am constantly having to defend my decisions and choices, trying to prove that they are the correct course to go on or that they are a reasonable choice to consider, at the very least. When my choices aren’t heeded, I tend to be the one handed the broom to clean up the mess afterwards. If a decision is made without consulting me, I seem to be in charge of putting out the wildfires before I even get a chance to see the smoke rising from the grass. People assume I am comfortable being the one to take care of the situation, regardless of the cause, and that I have nothing else happening in life. I can drop everything to accommodate others, but no one ever drops what they are doing for me. I feel like this is rather unfair to me and I keep wondering, “What am I doing that brings this onto me?”
Life is certainly much more complex as I grow older than it was when I was in University. Life then was much more linear: attend classes, study/do homework, work, repeat. Everything was in my control. Get to class on time, do the work, the grades would rise. Now, I feel like I am one of those Cormorants on the pier, watching the world spinning around me and I am not entirely sure what direction to focus on. What I do in one direction seems to make a change happen on the other side and never affect what I was hoping to change in the first place.
A part of me wishes for a simpler life where I have clear goals to work towards and I can actually put a plan in place in how to do my work, care for my daughter, care for myself, and maybe even find someone to share my life with.
The other part of me doesn’t want anything to change, because I would probably grow restless on not having problems occurring to keep my mind churning. Having nothing to focus on is far worse for me than having too much to think about.
The only thing I can do it seems is continue along the same path I have been on lately: take care of my daughter to the best of my abilities, take care of myself, and do what I can for other family members.
Because at this point, honestly, nothing else matters.
- I didn’t learn how to drink until I was in my late 20′s. I missed out on a lot of tequila shots and beer pong. ↩