Why not? It's a simple question. We ask it a million times in the span of our lives. But sometimes it can be more profound than the two simple words seem together. It's a great question to challenge us out of our comfort zones. Sometimes it's harder to come up with an answer to that than we might think, or even like. We might want an easy answer, so we don't have to push ourselves to do something that may be daunting. And yet, at other times, we come up with far more "reasons" than we should.
This question has been on my mind a lot lately. While visiting my friends Jerusha and Christen on my way to Denver, we had some fantastic talks about our lives and journeys; journeys out of ATI, to finding out who we are as individuals, to where we are now, to where we're going. As one might imagine would be the case when three INTJs get together and talk, the subject matter got deep. We're talking Mariana Trench deep. Okay, maybe not quite, but close. During dinner on my second night there, 6th grader Ben gave each one of us- his parents, his sisters, and me- a Dove chocolate piece. As some of you might know, on each Dove chocolate wrapper, is some sort of message. We all read ours to each other, and I got a little sad when I read mine: "Learn something new about a loved one." It was a significant and sad date for me, as mentioned in a previous post, and it bummed me out a bit. Christen got up and brought me his, and said he'd trade me. The message? You guessed it. The simple yet profound question: "Why not?" He and Jerusha and I all laughed- it was a perfect question for me based on the conversations we had already had. It was a simple challenge to push myself out of my comfort zone. We talked about it more after the kids had gone to bed, and it has stayed on my mind ever since.
I have been asking myself this question multiple times a day since Thursday. It has been one of my meager attempts to try and get myself to move forward. To keep thinking about the future. About developing myself. About moving past my own fears and comfort zones. And yet, despite my best efforts, the wounded part of me- the part that's still aching and throbbing and bleeding- comes up with more answers to that question than it should. But most of all, I'm bombarded with desperate and terrified answers in regards to one specific question, more than all the others: Why not open yourself to the possibility of loving again? Because I won't be able to trust anything. Because I'll be terrified the whole time. Because I might get my heart broken again. Because he might do the same thing the last one did. Because this time almost killed me. Because I can't do this again. Because it's safer by myself. Because I'll be so afraid, I'll screw it up myself. Because...because...because... They keep coming until I'm literally in tears. Every time.
But then I'm reminded of another question. An excellent companion question for when we're more prolific with the answers to "why not?" than we should be. This question comes from another great friend, Taylor. He was never in ATI, but he did go through an awful divorce a couple of years ago, and he gets where I'm coming from in a way that not everyone else does. He usually is the one who sees the worst side of me right now. The man deserves a medal for not running away screaming. But he often counters my frantic "what if?" questions with another simply profound question; this time, a question that is often overlooked by people. I ask, "What if I try another relationship and get my heart broken again?" His question? What if you don't? But what if I go through more heartbreaks and still end up alone at the end of the day? But what if you don't? What if nothing works out and I never get that relationship that I want? But what if you do? The question takes on different forms, depending on the fear being voiced. But the effect is always the same: What if the worst case scenario doesn't happen? What if I get exactly what I want- or at least something very close? What if it all does work out the way I want it? Will all those fearful answers hold me back from chasing after the possibilities? From trying to live my life to the fullest?
I hope someday I won't be so quick with the answers to "why not?" That's something I'm going to work on, because it's an excellent place to be in life. But while I'm getting there, whenever that wounded part of me comes back with a million reasons why not and a million questions to the effect of, "what if it doesn't work out the way I want it to?" I'm going to counter it with that other question: but what if it does?
This question has been on my mind a lot lately. While visiting my friends Jerusha and Christen on my way to Denver, we had some fantastic talks about our lives and journeys; journeys out of ATI, to finding out who we are as individuals, to where we are now, to where we're going. As one might imagine would be the case when three INTJs get together and talk, the subject matter got deep. We're talking Mariana Trench deep. Okay, maybe not quite, but close. During dinner on my second night there, 6th grader Ben gave each one of us- his parents, his sisters, and me- a Dove chocolate piece. As some of you might know, on each Dove chocolate wrapper, is some sort of message. We all read ours to each other, and I got a little sad when I read mine: "Learn something new about a loved one." It was a significant and sad date for me, as mentioned in a previous post, and it bummed me out a bit. Christen got up and brought me his, and said he'd trade me. The message? You guessed it. The simple yet profound question: "Why not?" He and Jerusha and I all laughed- it was a perfect question for me based on the conversations we had already had. It was a simple challenge to push myself out of my comfort zone. We talked about it more after the kids had gone to bed, and it has stayed on my mind ever since.
I have been asking myself this question multiple times a day since Thursday. It has been one of my meager attempts to try and get myself to move forward. To keep thinking about the future. About developing myself. About moving past my own fears and comfort zones. And yet, despite my best efforts, the wounded part of me- the part that's still aching and throbbing and bleeding- comes up with more answers to that question than it should. But most of all, I'm bombarded with desperate and terrified answers in regards to one specific question, more than all the others: Why not open yourself to the possibility of loving again? Because I won't be able to trust anything. Because I'll be terrified the whole time. Because I might get my heart broken again. Because he might do the same thing the last one did. Because this time almost killed me. Because I can't do this again. Because it's safer by myself. Because I'll be so afraid, I'll screw it up myself. Because...because...because... They keep coming until I'm literally in tears. Every time.
But then I'm reminded of another question. An excellent companion question for when we're more prolific with the answers to "why not?" than we should be. This question comes from another great friend, Taylor. He was never in ATI, but he did go through an awful divorce a couple of years ago, and he gets where I'm coming from in a way that not everyone else does. He usually is the one who sees the worst side of me right now. The man deserves a medal for not running away screaming. But he often counters my frantic "what if?" questions with another simply profound question; this time, a question that is often overlooked by people. I ask, "What if I try another relationship and get my heart broken again?" His question? What if you don't? But what if I go through more heartbreaks and still end up alone at the end of the day? But what if you don't? What if nothing works out and I never get that relationship that I want? But what if you do? The question takes on different forms, depending on the fear being voiced. But the effect is always the same: What if the worst case scenario doesn't happen? What if I get exactly what I want- or at least something very close? What if it all does work out the way I want it? Will all those fearful answers hold me back from chasing after the possibilities? From trying to live my life to the fullest?
I hope someday I won't be so quick with the answers to "why not?" That's something I'm going to work on, because it's an excellent place to be in life. But while I'm getting there, whenever that wounded part of me comes back with a million reasons why not and a million questions to the effect of, "what if it doesn't work out the way I want it to?" I'm going to counter it with that other question: but what if it does?
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