how did a mountain get into the middle of my swamp?

This has been one of those weeks – and it’s only Wednesday – where I struggle to figure out what day it is. I was already confused Sunday, which I was pretty sure was Saturday and then Dad’s home worker came on Tuesday when she normally comes on Thursday. And it wasn’t helped by my falling asleep when I laid down for a while after dinner because my back was hurting and woke up two hours later. 8:00? That’s too early to get up, I want to sleep a while longer. Why am I still dressed?

So I bring you Sunday Thoughts on Wednesday.

I ran across a Canadian show on Netflix a while ago called Being Erica which is kind of a strange show where Erica meets Dr. Tom who sends her back in time to learn from her regrets. It has some interesting ideas but also tends to be a little too fatalistic at times. But sometimes she learns that something she blamed herself for was not really her fault – or at least nothing she could have done differently would have changed the outcome. In season three, things change up a little and she starts group therapy. Now other patients are time traveling to their regrets and the group helps each other learn from their experiences.

Which brings us to season 3, episode 8 where Dr. Tom says this to Adam:

You keep seeing the mountain. All the reasons, all the excuses, all the obstacles that are telling you that you can’t do it. You just keep piling them on, making the mountain bigger and bigger when perhaps what you really need to do is just climb it.

And that is so me. That’s what I do, isn’t it? I see the mountain and it’s really big and scary and just too hard. So I stand there piling more rocks on the mountain. It gets bigger and scarier, at least in my mind. It isn’t just that I don’t take the first step in that thousand mile journey, it’s like I’m walking backwards and getting further away because going forward is too hard. Or the flood waters keep getting deeper while I wait for them to recede.

Do we need any more metaphors?

Starting is always the hardest part. There will always be reasons to postpone. Tomorrow, after all, the mountain may fall down by itself. I’ve waited so long maybe it’s too late. I’m too tired. And sometimes I wish I could be comfortable just living on this side of the mountain. Who knows what is on the other side of the mountain? I’ve been disappointed before, there is not always better than here.

But I’ll never know unless I start.

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8 thoughts on “how did a mountain get into the middle of my swamp?”

  1. I hear ‘ya sister. I’m the same way. I dislike starting anything until I have it all planned, which is, of course, impossible. I often say that I don’t have an impulsive bone in my body. So for me to jump right into things is almost unheard of.

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  2. I’ve been climbing the mountain for two years now and today my husband has decided he is done, although we haven’t talked to the oncologist or our family yet. I’m scared!! I don’t know what happens next. 😦

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    1. I’m so sorry Margaret. I guess you have to know when the mountain you’re climbing is not right for you – and when to rest. That’s really horribly hard. I know that it’s coming here eventually but I think it will be more of a release for Mom and Dad. Still scary but not the same. Thinking of you and wishing you peace and love.

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  3. I have a post-it note on my monitor that says “Just START!”

    I am a master of procrastination, especially when I’m not exactly clear on a task or project. I need a reminder that if I just start, I can often get a better idea of what I need to do.

    So – that’s my long-winded way of saying that it all starts with the first step, and sometimes your path up the mountain may feel more sideways than vertical. Don’t stop, just keep moving. Even if you have to take two steps back for every three forward, you’re still going in the right direction.

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    1. Very true Scott. I think it’s easier to keep moving once you get moving, too. That whole inertia thing. A Zaz at rest tends to stay at rest.

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