My own personal handbasket to who-knows-where.

I’m a bit stuck these days. I’ve been thinking about my next post, and getting really hung up on the idea of G. What could G stand for? Green thumb, growth, grown-up, gratitude… so many things. Each could be worthwhile, but most feel like I’d be sort of faking it. Does that make sense? Each of those g-words are things that I could think about, ponder, share. But none of them really resonate. I’m not an expert with any of them. I might write something wrong, or stupid, or embarrassing to my future self.

This exemplifies how I’m feeling in most of my life right now. I’ve been feeling the weight of self-doubt. And I’ve been “death-spiralling,” overthinking everything and finding myself a bit paralyzed. It’s big things: lifestyle, career, self-image. And it is little things, too: making vacation plans, purchasing window treatments, finishing a painting project. And yes, writing a blog post. I’m just a bit stuck on the idea that every single decision will result in some kind of consequence. Let’s face it, all decisions result in some kind of consequence, for good or ill. Choosing to paint my house results in having fewer dollars in my bank account, being surrounded by cleaner walls, losing a Saturday or two of my life, and having a generally more attractive place to call my own. All decisions involve weighing the options, measuring the consequences, and deciding what is worthwhile. Right? And right now, I’m completely overwhelmed by every possibility. I find myself frozen.

It’s been building for a while, so I’m not entirely shocked to find myself in this situation… or, more accurately, in this emotion. It has been a time of both internal and external pressures. I’m a bit of a pressure cooker by nature: put a bunch of stuff (information, or external opinions) in me, put the lid on it, and let it stew until my internal contents have reached a pressure level that requires careful instructions to release. For the past few weeks, all I want to do is hide out, hunker down, and not deal with anything. It’s time for me to follow the careful instructions to release the valve and let what will be be. Only, that’s a scary prospect, too, with potentially flammable consequences.

And so, here I am, stuck in the middle, between the choosing, the deciding, the thinking, and the doing.

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