There are few things in life the peeve me more than
having to admit that my husband is right when we are in disagreement.
Now, happily my now ex-husband (or Stud-Muffin as he was called in our
house) and I usually agree on most things. That is why it is
particularly galling when I have to admit that my initial assessment of
any situation might possibly be . . . wrong.
*sigh*
Quite often I have looked back on a period of time and
have seen a theme emerge about my life’s lessons. The lessons of 2001
were definitely about letting go of fear and control. (Or more
accurately, it turns out, my feeble attempts at control.) It seems the
theme continues in 2002.
Stud-Muffin and I have been married for just over six
years. In that time, we have lived in six houses. Once, we moved twice
in four months. Just so you know, we are not running from the law, nor
are we in the military or the circus. We just have been, sort of, well,
roots-impaired.
Well, we have been in the same house for nearly two
years, and yes, you guessed it . . . we are planning to move. This is
where the mighthavebeenpossiblyinaremotesortofwaywrong thing comes in.
You see, SM decided that the time had come for us to buy a house. Yes,
buy one. Not borrow someone else’s home and pay an exorbitant amount
each month for the privilege, not buy an RV and wander around the
country, but
go-into-escrow-and-sign-lots-of-documents-in-front-of-God-and-everybody
buy one!
Now, as I am a woman that nearly hyperventilated when
we went to buy a washing machine because it was such a grown-up thing
to do, buying a house seemed a bit extreme. (The previous washing
machine was a perfectly good hand-me-down – which is among the best
things about being the youngest child in the family. Your parents and
older siblings are so used to sharing their old stuff; eventually you
get their cast-off furniture and appliances.)
There are dozens of perfectly good reasons not to buy
a house and to keep on doing what we have been doing which is extremely
comfortable for me because it involves absolutely no risk and I have
been doing it for a while now, thank you very much. *sigh.*
Unfortunately, other than it being comfortable and familiar, I couldn’t
actually think of any other good reasons to throw in his “I’m a grown
up now” face.
So, apparently on a mission from God, off SM went into
the world of realtors – and because he is just about the most annoying
man on earth he decided to make sure that any place we considered had
plenty of space for my studio. (Do you know how hard it is to be
disgruntled with a man who is going on and on about how much light and
space you will have to do the work you love best? I could barely work
myself up to grunted, let alone move on to dis!)
In the past I have written about a concept I call
“God’s Green Lights”. That is that when you are on the right track,
when you are where you are supposed to be in your life, that all the
lights suddenly turn green and things that should be difficult (or that
everyone warns you about) are suddenly easy as can be.
Well, SM was apparently on the right track because
while I was busy throwing on the brakes, pulling the emergency handle,
and generally making a nuisance of myself . . . SM found a perfectly
charming house in the mountains, with a room big and private enough for
a (did I mention that it has a fireplace?) studio, made an offer that
was within our budget which the current owners accepted, and now
despite all my whining and kvetching – we are buying a house. Escrow
closed on the 22nd and nary a glitch. Is that just too irritating for
words or what?
And so the
house is ours . . . and I
owed SM a big ol' apology because he was willing to bravely go where
neither of us had gone before – while I was holding on to a comfortable
pattern of the familiar. The idea of going through all the financial
stuff – which always feels like some sort of judgment as to my personal
worth — the risk of falling in love with a place we might not get, and
just putting out the energy that all of it involves just seemed like
too much to me. I was overwhelmed and happy to sit in my little rut.
You have to admit, as someone who has written all that I have about
taking risks . . . this does expose me as something of a fraud.
Well, dang it, just when I thought I was getting good
at this risk stuff!
All of us have areas of comfort – and where we feel
comfortable we are more likely to take risk. If you are comfortable in
the world of finances, then buying a house or a car or the like may
seem like a pathetically easy thing to do. For someone like me that has
great confidence in my ability to learn, taking creative risks is quite
simple -- but buying a house was a form of torture.
Taking risks, however, is often what gives our lives
spice. Buying this house has helped me to understand even someone as
adept at “risk taking” as I can stall when fear comes to the forefront.
(And as a woman that feels completely comfortable wearing a tiara in
public for no apparent reason, I can assure you that for the most part,
I’ve got the risk thing down pat.)
Getting through our fear is another thing altogether.
In this case, I was blessed with a well-chosen partner that is immune
to my attempts at bullying, whining, and bribery. Being pulled, kicking
and screaming, into change isn’t probably the most dignified approach.
Here are some other ideas on how you might get past your fear so that
you can embrace change with a bit more grace than I have recently
exhibited:
·
Fear is often the result of lack of knowledge. If you are
resisting a change make it your business to learn all you can about it.
·
Network. Find other people that have gone through what
you are working through. Chances are, just being able to talk through
your fears will be a big help.
·
Motivate yourself with a list of reasons to take the risk
– what are the benefits? What might happen if you go through with this
that would make your life better?
· Make a list of the things you don’t like right now that will continue if you stay in your rut and don’t take the risks. Play it out over time, what are the potential negative consequences of not taking a chance?
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