Turning the Corner

It feels good to turn the corner on something--to get over it, or through it, or even just past it. It means that even if I'm not successful in conquering it or figuring it out, I'm ready to move on anyway. It means I've embraced a new reality.

This time on the beach between lives feels like a good time to turn the corner on a few things. I've closed the book on DC, am starting to envision my life in New Mexico, and am taking some time to evaluate my outlook. Maybe I can get rid of some bunk I've been carrying around...I'm still working on the country music kick...

Sometimes what's around the corner is harder, scarier, or more painful. Still, it's a new stretch of road to cover...a different mountain to attempt to climb. At least the scenery is new.

I think my life is a constant repeat of this process. I spend most of my time bumped right up against the corner, but not turning it. I'll typically dawdle awhile, not sure I am really ready to leave where I am, or face a new reality.

The acceptance part is where I get stuck--staying in one place has to get more uncomfortable than proceeding before I'll take the first shaky step, and I have to allow myself to feel that pain. If I'm not paying attention or if I'm somehow numbing myself, I might stay there forever. I have to get sick and tired of the old scenery, of my old self before I'll move.

I've been in the same thought process about a writing project for a long time...stuck in confusion of how to proceed. I broke it out again, faced it, and this time, I can see a tiny bit of the way ahead. Still, it looked too daunting so I turned around to maybe head back, but I couldn't see where I had just been.

I turned the corner. Actually I feel relieved, the decision has already been made, I'm re-attacking. The only way to go is forward. I just wish I could see more than a couple feet in front of me.