Monday’s Random Thought: Heart Choice

When I decided to begin this blogging adventure in the spring of 2009, the task of picking a name for my blog came easily.

Back in 2009, making decisions easily was not natural for me. A long process usually transpired before committing to a decision. I wanted to make the “right” choice, I didn’t want to disappoint others and I just really had no idea how to decide between options. Often I stood paralyzed making no choice at all.

Before I decided to begin this blog, I had known for a very long time that I wanted to be a writer. That decision chose me.

The part I wasn’t sure of was “how” to be a writer. Taking a walk in the woods, on a writing retreat on Whidbey Island, in 2006, I asked that very question…How do I write? Near the retreat location, just down the road and through the woods there was a labyrinth made of seashells and stones meticulously set out in overgrown grass. At one time I imaged the labyrinth was easy to make out but with the tall grass covering many of the shells and stones one had to concentrate.

For those of you not sure exactly what the hell a labyrinth is, it is an intricate combination of paths in which it is difficult to find one’s way or to reach the exit. A maze of sorts. For someone like me who would freeze at the thought of making a decision, walking a labyrinth was a risk. I was alone. I couldn’t ask anyone their opinion of which path to take. The idea is to ask a question and walk the labyrinth with the intention of discovering your answer once you reach the end.

I held my question in my head, How do I become a writer, how do I write?, and began my journey through the tall grass. I hung onto my question with great anticipation, as I walked faithfully, trusting on my own wisdom about which path to take, which turn to follow. It took longer than it would have taken with mowed grass perhaps so I also had to walk with patience.

Winding my way back to the beginning of the labyrinth my heart beat faster. Part of me wanted to just jump over the grass and leave the confusing pattern of shells and rocks and just avoid the answer. What if it didn’t come after all? Then I came back to my desire. More than anything, the strongest desire within me was and still is to write.

Just two steps out of the labyrinth my answer came, From your heart. Write from your heart. This is how you will become a writer.

So simple. So clear.

That is why three later when I decided to start this blog the decision process on creating a name for the blog was clear. As clear as a white shell among blades of green grass.

 

The Right Place by J.G. McGlothern

Decisions must be made every day.  Huge decisions like deciding where to move, what job to accept, if this spouse is the right choice.  Little daily decisions like the brand of face wash to purchase, which route to drive home, what to wear, the right words to use in an email. Our lives are full of options.  A plethora of decisions to be made.  Then throw kids into the mix and now you have even more choices to ponder.  You are not only deciding things for yourself, you are making decisions for another being.  It begins with the epidural.  Do you take the drug route or go tough?  Then you are faced with the disposal or cloth question.  Swiftly it moves to which pre-school to enroll your child.  We can over whelm ourselves, get worked up into a tizzy.  We plan, research, discuss, lose sleep, play out scenarios in our heads until we are blue.  Is it okay to give them sugar cereal, go without sunscreen, watch three hours of television just this one time? Then when the second child comes you say screw it, the first one turned out fine.

A very wise woman once gave me some of the best advice to use when faced with making a decision.  Choose the one that brings you the most peace.  I constantly am sharing this gem of wisdom.  Sure for some that makes it even harder, arguing both give them peace or neither does. I like to consult all parts of me. My head, my heart and my gut.  Usually settling on the gut.  For that makes sense to me, feels right, gives me the most peace.  Another wise woman told me this when making a big decision.  “Picture yourself on your death bed.  Will you regret the decision you made?”, she asked me when deciding to get a puppy this past winter. The decision was completely up to me.  Everyone in the family wanted it.  I can live without a dog and I would be the primary caretaker. It felt right in my gut. I was super excited.  On my death bed, I would have regretted not letting my kids have a puppy. Six months later, our puppy is one of the best decisions I have made.  He has brought so much joy to our entire family and has turned out to be super easy.

Walking my daughter to school these past two years has introduced me to new friends.  Friends I can call on for help, laugh hard with over a cup of tea.  It is true that you become friends with the parents of your children’s friends.  I fought that for awhile.  I am so glad I didn’t look elsewhere for our daughter to attend school, go on ten interviews but instead chose the school her dad went to, the one we can walk to in less than five minutes, including the wait at the one long light. 

My children have been taking swim lessons at the same pool for over two years.  I now look forward to seeing the familiar faces.  I choose grocery stores in the same way.  Does it feel right?  Do I like the familiar faces? 

I had the experience of not liking a certain place where my child took a certain class.  The people didn’t feel right.  So I moved on.  My gut wasn’t at peace.

As I walk in our neighborhood I couldn’t imagine raising our children anywhere else.  We love our neighbors.  The library, grocery store, bagel shop, barber, cleaners, are all within two blocks.  We can walk to get a good margarita, refreshing Slurpee, hot cocoa or cup of coffee.  Don’t worry the kids stay home when I walk to get a margarita but you can bet I order a Slurpee just as often as they do.  This place just feels right.  The same way I feel when I am faced with a decision and finally settle on my choice.