The Cart of Dharma
In love addiction we can spend lots of time in a special kind of self-doubt: questioning (or ignoring) our instincts while believing that someone else has the power to provide direction. Instead of feeling confident enough to make decisions for ourselves, we look for guidance out there--often from those we have on pedestals--while undervaluing our own worth and the validity of our inner compass.
This leads to debilitating indecisiveness, and we might even appear "flakey" because we end up making decisions and commitments based upon what someone else wants for us; and then we regret it (so we change our mind). Or we may just stay stuck on the fence, not making any decision at all...
And in 2009, on that fence I sat--and had been sitting for more than a decade--wanting to be a therapist and knowing that working in magazines and advertising (as I did for 16 years) wasn't my purpose or passion. I didn't enjoy the work (I loathed it) and felt guilty and ungrateful, shaming myself for not being 'happier' with what I had. So I pushed through while telling myself THIS is what I'm supposed to do with my life because THIS is what I went to college to do (translation: this is what I'm expected to do), as if that was all the proof I needed to just-stop-fantasizing-and-pull-your-shit-together-Jodi.
During my time on that proverbial fence, I wavered between I KNOW what to do and BUT what if I'm wrong?, the latter being what kept me frozen and clinging to the familiar posts of a life I knew while peaking into the yard of one I longed for. And, even though from this position I could daydream about what could be/if only, I wasn't actually living that life, nor was I fully present in the one I had. And all of this came with anxiety rooted in the aforementioned self-doubt, and the reality of time passing...and then there was this poem I found (which only fueled the anxiety):
In the end we only regret the chances we didn't take,
and the decisions we took too long to make.
~Lewis Carroll
I wasn't living the life I wanted and I knew it-- and once you know it, you can't un-know it, no matter how hard you try by distracting yourself with dysfunctional relationships and the subsequent periods of rebuilding yourself after each disastrous breakup.
But hitting the gas pedal on big decisions can be friggin scary, especially when it comes to major life changes and weighing what we need against what we want, and especially if we struggle to identify those needs and wants, or if we confuse the two, or if our needs and wants are dependent upon what others want us to need or want.
In "Facing Codependence", Pia Mellody says that needs are the things we must have in order to survive, such as food, shelter, clothing, medical/dental attention, physical and emotional nurturing, spirituality, financial resources (earning, saving, spending, etc). And she writes the following regarding wants:
I divide wants into two categories: little wants and big wants. Little wants are truly preferences--things we don't have to have, but when we choose them they bring us great joy [a new car, purse, second home, etc]. Big wants take our lives in a general direction and bring us fulfillment, such as "I want to marry this person" or "I want to start this company" or "I want to go back to school to become a ______".
But when it comes to life-altering things like going back to school and changing careers I prefer to look at them as not simply "big wants" but metamorphic desires that are often driven by the voice of dharma--that inner GPS telling you repeatedly to turn left in 500 feet and continue for 1147 miles even though you thought you'd already reached your destination.
Are you familiar with this inner voice? Sometimes it can be incredibly annoying, like a mosquito buzzing in your ear--it refuses to leave you alone! Other times it's a gentle nudge, like Mrs. Doubtfire smiling and holding the front door open for you, indicating This is the way, dear; but you can't decide what shoes to wear, and can't find your pink sweater--and you MUST HAVE that pink sweater--so she closes the door (because we don't want to air-condition the whole neighborhood!) while you continue to search for a cardigan that's really just an excuse to keep you on the fence where it feels safe.
In his book, "The Great Work of Your Life: A Guide For The Journey To Your True Calling", Stephen Cope says this about dharma (aka "that voice"):
The yoga tradition is very, very interested in the idea of an inner possibility harbored within every human...Yogis insist that every human being has a unique vocation. They call this dharma...it is the subtle interior blueprint of a soul.
He continues to say that the word "dharma" is packed with meaning, such as "vocation" or "sacred duty", but that above all it means "truth"; and that our greatest responsibility in life is to fulfill this inner possibility--this truth--by acknowledging and following the blueprint of our own unique dharma.
But this is easier said that done: cultural, societal and familial conditioning gets in the way, and leads to self-doubt, which keeps us stuck and unable to make a decision. So we stay on the fence, like a voyeur to what could be/if only, while shaming ourselves for not being able to just do it (whatever "it" is according to our inner blueprint).
And Cope agrees that this is the hardest part--that getting to the decision, and just doing it, is a struggle that shouldn't be minimized--but once that decision is made...
"...it's as if the decision itself lays down some sort of invisible tracks--and the cart of dharma just rolls forward, sometimes at shocking speed."
So just how do we get to this decision and get our cart moving? According to Cope:
First of all, ask for guidance then listen for responses. We’re not talking about seeking guidance from just anyone, or from those you have on pedestals, but from the people who are doing what you'd like to be doing. Or maybe seek guidance through meditation/prayer/putting it out into the Universe. Responses may come from the like-minded people with whom you consult, but they can also come in more subtle ways, like intuitions and hunches (if you're skeptical it's okay, listen anyway).
Then, when you get some clarity, wait to act. Important decisions should never be made in a hurry, they should be investigated deliberately and relentlessly. This doesn’t mean put the whole idea on the back burner and avoid it for a decade while you shame yourself for that avoidance, it simply means be mindful and thoughtful versus reactionary.
Ask for support and/or pray for the courage and willingness to take action. It's not uncommon to get to this step and feel like we can't do it, or we're too busy, or it's too hard. Fear can take over when shit gets real, so ask for what you need.
Let go of the attempt to eliminate risk from these decisions and actions. This is so important. We can spend years putting together lists of pros and cons and weighing the what-ifs (trust me, I've done it) instead of actually doing the Thing. Fact: Risk cannot be eliminated and trying to do so will only lead back to paralysis (aka The Fence).
Move forward methodically and mindfully, understanding that most of this forward movement will be done in the dark. You don't have all the information yet so you can only truly focus on your next step (not 20 steps ahead, because that will lead to frustration and anxiety and yep, right back to the fence).
Let go of the outcome. Success or failure in the eyes of others is not your concern. Again, easier said than done, but as Cope points out in the book: 'Failing at your own dharma is better than succeeding at someone else's'. In other words, there is no failure in the trying as long as the trying is congruent with the blueprint, the truth.
I didn't have the guidance of Cope's book back in 2009, and I can't say that when I finally made the decision to get off the fence I did it as gracefully as I could have, but that no longer bothers me...because I did it.
I get lots of messages from people considering big life changes, who are hearing the voice and noticing the outline of an inner blueprint, but find themselves on the fence. If this is you, please know that --along with many others--I've been on that fence, and agree with Stephen Cope that getting to the decision is the hardest part of the process.
When I was on the fence, I thought the hardest part would be doing the Thing I wanted to do (going back to school, getting the degree, going through training, becoming a licensed therapist, building a practice); and while that wasn't easy, it wasn't nearly as hard as allowing myself to stop thinking about doing it and actually do it--to ease myself into my future and all it's unknowns.
What helped me? The realization that I didn't want to live my life knowing what I wanted but fearing what 'might' happen if I tried; I got very tired of my own stories and excuses; and I didn't want to end up regretting the decision I didn't make...I had to put the cart of dharma in drive and trust that inner GPS.