There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting.

 

A few months ago, after some prolonged curiosity and encouragement from friends that it seemed as though it may be of some interest to me, I began reading some introductory Buddhist teachings. Much of it did, indeed, speak to me in ways I found wholly attainable spiritually, mentally, and physically, and as long as I continued reading them and stayed mindful of my own capacity for compassion, I found that conflicts were easier to see through, and that straying from meditation led me to strong afflictions both spiritually and emotionally.

 
Over the years, it’s become The Chelsea Brown Way to embark on new projects and spiritual journeys the second I’m in the throws of what I perceive to be catastrophe… That, and cutting my hair. I chose to finally read about Buddhism during this time, and as soon as this matter was resolved, I retired any active practice of it. There has always been an element of genuine longing and desire to accomplish my new endeavors. But in the back of my mind, I have usually always known that it is a circumstantial enthusiasm, that to a degree it puts me to shame that I only set out for high ambitions when someone or something else is making me feel as if I have something I need to prove, and that I inevitably- after the adrenaline winds down- will give up, or slowly let it fade away.

I spoke to a friend earlier, and I explained to them how important I think it is for me to know I can be alone and not fall to pieces. They later asked, “Do you really think you can do that?” And for a moment my heart jumped, because that is exactly the question I am trying to answer for myself. I won’t know until I do, but I won’t do it until I know I can. So I said, “Yeah, I can… Everyone else does, why can’t I?” To which they corrected me: “Not everyone.”  And this is certainly true. “Yes, but people do. I want to be one of those people.” This leads me to my point (which I’m sure many of you are wishing I’d just get to already) … I find myself saying how much I want to do things all too often, assuming that I lack what many others seem to have when they speak actively and live actively. It’s extremely important for anyone that’s in a transformational period of life to be active and think actively, and to shed any doubt (that is likely the skin you developed from the period you’re crossing over from) in order to do that. My issue isn’t with getting started on things; it’s with maintaining them. This is a Eureka! Moment for me because I think almost anyone who knows me even remotely well knows how I never finish anything, I move all over the place (literally), and I am generally impulsive and antsy- though I carry myself with a mild temperament. It is against my wishes to be so scatter-brained, as all I really want is to feel just once that I have stood some place from start to finish, that I’ve endured. It’s easy to begin when you’ve got so much that’s driving you and nothing to lose, but quite another to sustain interest and confidence, to find continuous inspiration, and to keep momentum when you reach a big hill. Therein lies the challenge, and that is exactly what I’m in for right now.

The only chance I have at succeeding with being alone and happy, is to prove –to myself- by building a framework of a life I’d like to live, and then, little by little (I also tend to fail because I bombard myself with projects and favor instant gratification) filling it in with things that fit harmoniously inside it- like arranging the furniture in your dream house, that there is good reason to be. And that reason is very simply, just because I CAN.