Figuring It Out...

Really. Again? Fuck.

I am tired of figuring it out. Mostly because I always get it wrong. I mean, over and over and over again. Fuck!

But as I have learned, also repeatedly, there is nothing to figure out expect the truth that lives deep within my bones, deep in the tender flesh of my being. Life is not something to be figured out, I am.

I have experienced so many layers of myself at this point that it feels exhausting and invigorating. Kind of like when you are running a race and you are so tired but then you see that you just passed two mile markers and didn’t even notice them. That is motivating. You were so in line, so in touch with what you were doing, so in the zone, that you completely missed the signposts.

I am there again, except I am not running a race. I am living my life. This one precious, human life. This one life that has been so baffling and confusing and exhausting sometimes. This life, right here.

And my one persistent delusion is that life can be figured out. I suppose it can, but where would the fun in that be? I mean seriously, what fun would it be to figure it out?

I have no idea what I am doing, and that makes for a great deal of excitement in my life. I do not have it all figured out and often, I am not even sure what the questions are...or the answers. In fact, when I think I have the answers, look the fuck out because it likely means that I am going to flex some will and then we are all fucked. Mostly myself, but if you are standing nearby, you will get the overspray, to be clear.

I have no idea what I am doing. And that is the best thing about middle life. I have no end goal in mind. No result that I am chasing like my younger years. I have had career success. I have gotten married, had kids, gotten divorced. I have done the family thing, the single thing and now I am in the “divorced, single parenting thing” which is really synonymous with “I haven’t a fucking clue what I am doing.” Which is the best news ever.

I am here doing the deal. Living my life. It is happening and I am present for it. I am content to be unencumbered on the love front. I answer to no one but myself. And that seems fitting for me right now. I am not ready for a relationship, I still have some things I need to deal with. I would like eventually one day to be a worthy partner, but I am not there yet and I can see that, painfully clearly.

So I don’t want to figure it out. I don’t want to know what is going to happen next. I do not feel or want a neatly tied up package. I want the chaos of living single, in the moment, figuring it out can come later. Right now, I want to embrace the chaos, the confusion, the grit and dirt of middle aged self reflection. I am here doing this life, poorly, but it is the best I have ever done. And I am the most content I have ever been.

And for me, when I think I have it all figured out, those times in life where by all outward appearances I have it all locked up and down, those were the most miserable of my life. I am a free spirit whose persistent delusion has been that captivity of any kind can ever make me happy. I have so wanted what others seem to find so easily. And so far, it has never worked. I always leave. I run back to myself over and over again. Finding solace, comfort only in the arms of myself. And perhaps it might always be this way. That I am my own best companion. I have certainly been my own worst enemy so perhaps it is time that I come full circle and find myself standing at the place where I am here for me.

I do not want to figure it out. I do not want to be the one who has it all together. I want to be the person I am right now who is unsure of so very much. Who feels emotionally ragged every single day. The one who is jarred in life, with frequency and intensity. I want to not have it all figured out and have that be ok and peaceful. So I will stop trying to organizing life to my liking. And I will endeavor to greet each new moment with love, peaceful abiding and grace.

Seems like a tall fucking order but so much more fun than “figuring it out”. That feels exhausting, boring and kind of like a living death. And I have already lived that way and will never live that way again.

So today I say

Fuck fear of the unknown and unknowable.

Bring it. All of it. Let it teach me, shape me, round out the sharp points and be glad for all of it.

Figuring it out is impossible, embracing each moment as it comes so much more doable. But fuck, it is painful sometimes.