How many chances do we get?
Are there a finite number of times for a do-over or do we get as many chances as we make for ourselves?
An endless cycle of failing, trying and succeeding constantly swirls around me. Each new turn surprises me even though there can be nothing more certain than this cycle of change.
Fail; try; succeed.
Fail; try; succeed.
Fail; try; succeed.
As I’ve gotten a bit older I’ve become more Zen about the cycles. The one thing I feel sure of is that each one is no better than the other. Each cycle offers its lesson.
I’ve struggled these past few years to be more open – telling my story; exposing the mysteries of hot flashes and my tears; bearing my heart on the pages of my book. In spite of my efforts, I have not been completely honest with myself. I’ve been spinning out of control. No one knew, not even me, and so the spinning continued.
Finally, realizing I was dizzy, I discovered that all I had to do was to reach out my hand and everyone that loves me grabbed hold to try and stop the spinning.
Putting out my hand.
It’s the easiest and the hardest thing I have ever done.
I am reaching out and friends are grabbing hold. With their support I feel myself moving forward rather than spinning in place.
And so, the process of reinvention begins again.
Are there a finite number of times for a do-over or do we get as many chances as we make for ourselves?
An endless cycle of failing, trying and succeeding constantly swirls around me. Each new turn surprises me even though there can be nothing more certain than this cycle of change.
Fail; try; succeed.
Fail; try; succeed.
Fail; try; succeed.
As I’ve gotten a bit older I’ve become more Zen about the cycles. The one thing I feel sure of is that each one is no better than the other. Each cycle offers its lesson.
I’ve struggled these past few years to be more open – telling my story; exposing the mysteries of hot flashes and my tears; bearing my heart on the pages of my book. In spite of my efforts, I have not been completely honest with myself. I’ve been spinning out of control. No one knew, not even me, and so the spinning continued.
Finally, realizing I was dizzy, I discovered that all I had to do was to reach out my hand and everyone that loves me grabbed hold to try and stop the spinning.
Putting out my hand.
It’s the easiest and the hardest thing I have ever done.
I am reaching out and friends are grabbing hold. With their support I feel myself moving forward rather than spinning in place.
And so, the process of reinvention begins again.
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