What separates an intentional pause from hiding?
A few weeks ago I wrote about starting over. About holding off on a choice when you weren’t sure what your next step should be in order to create a possibility. That’s all well and good but I couldn’t shake that it was an incomplete idea. What’s to separate this meaningful pause from pure laziness or fear? Objectively, is there something an outside observer could notice that would distinguish the fearful person from the intentional one?
At first I considered acceptance. We are all capable of constructing stories that make continuing our current behaviour feel reasonable. And these stories can protect your ego from the truth: what you expected to happen didn’t. And so maybe the lesson is really just to minimize the space between that realization and acceptance. But it didn’t feel to me that acceptance alone was enough.
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Let’s peel it back for a second. Let’s say that I made a mistake in a volleyball game. I tried a move to get the ball over the net and it didn’t work. I can beat myself up, I can blame external circumstances, I can try and laugh it off. Regardless of what I chose, the reality is there is a new point coming up. I need to accept where I’m at. And I need to engage with where I’m at right now. I tried something. It didn’t work. There is another point coming up. Am I engaged? Or am I distracted?
I recently listened to an episode of The Tim Ferriss Show with Diana Chapman. She had the courage to share that her marriage of thirty-plus years has had its challenges. She met her husband when they were in their early twenties, and there has been considerable growth and change for both. She tells a story about being willing to give up the marriage. “The relationship as it was is done. Now let’s just check and see, is there a relationship?”
What a brave sentence. What possibility comes with a curiosity that seeks answers where you don’t control the outcome: “This isn’t working for me. I’m willing to let it go to find what’s next.”
I shared that I have a timeline of debt repayment in my future, and likely shortly after that, a career change. So the story I’m tying to those facts is that both of those problems need to be solved before I can move forward, before I can begin living. I want to be someone who is stable and dependable. For so many years now, the debt I’ve been carrying has limited my ability to provide for myself and for any future family I may one day have. Right now, I’m in a holding pattern. I’m waiting for the debts to be paid down to be proof that I am the person that I want to be. The eventual end of my massage career creates the same problem.
Another quote from the Chapman interview, this time a question asked of her by a friend: “Who is the woman you would need to be to call forward that man?”
Maybe there’s a deeper question in there: “Who do I need to be to call forward the future that I want?”
Now there’s a discrepancy between my patience and my courage. I want to be dependable and stable. But is a shiny new job or a debt-free future really the only thing that makes me dependable and stable? Or are there a set of behaviours and lifestyle choices that go with that? Can I practice those now, while working through my current struggles? Is there work that I need to do, that I can do today, that moves me towards that goal?
I think the honest answer is yes. I’ll be the first to tell you that I’ve had some bad luck the past few years. I made some bold bets and they didn’t pan out. Having a new and “non-essential” healthcare business during a global pandemic was a once-in-a-lifetime misfortune. While that is true, I have some growing up to do. I overextended myself, I didn’t admit that I was overwhelmed early enough, and I didn’t explore alternative possibilities enough to be prepared for an undesired outcome. Going forward, there is less wiggle room now. The debt is real. The need for a career change is real. And I get to approach each day with clear limits that I honour and an openness to not have all the answers. I need to give myself permission to sit in the pause before jumping into a big decision. I need to ask for help when needed instead of stubbornly grinding myself down to a pulp.
Objectively, how do you tell if someone is engaged with the next point or reliving the previous one? Behaviour. Pattern repetition or pattern correction. I’ve endured too long and called it courage. I’ve disregarded my limits and called it strength. I’ve stubbornly pressed forward when it’s not working and called it consistency. And the result has been financial distress that has constrained how I’ve been able to show up for those who matter most in my life. So the point’s been lost. It’s time to move on. Not right away, not putting myself out of position. But playing the ball when it comes to me. With patience, with honesty, with curiosity, and with courage.
If this resonated, share it with someone who might need it.
Thanks for being here.
Jack
P.S. I’ve been thinking a lot about pressure and freedom lately.
I recently published a short essay called The Freedom Paradox.
It goes deeper into some of what I’ve been working through.
eBook + audiobook here:
https://jackjohnstonwrites.gumroad.com/l/freedom-paradox