Where do I go from here?

Armed with the knowledge of self discovery and a burning desire for a life of purpose, I seek the signpost. It feels good to be doing something.  I have a pep in my step and the tunes are blasting.  Like the first moves of a new workout, I am energized and fearless. I am taking steps to break the jar that has captured my life.  This is it!

And then I was again.  I was excited. I was fearless.  There I was, at the crossroads, and instead of sign post pointing toward various paths of purpose,  the reality signpost I faced looked like a stressed out porcupine ready to defend itself.  Each arrow thrusting toward a path.  Each path looks different and appears to have merit.

Some look to easy….you can’t trust those.

Some look like the path to Mount Everest…even if I thought for a moment how exciting that would be, my body reminds me of its limits, which include a healthy fear of heights and a true aversion to the bitter cold.

And then there are the paths that look as though they were heaven sent; hand created just for me.  But wouldn’t those paths be self serving?  Can I justify walking one of those paths?  Will choosing such a tempting path diminish my primary loves and responsibilities?  Can I choose one of those paths and still be a dedicated wife and mother?

Maybe this is where I was captured.  Paralyzed by the fear of every what if racing around my mind, each chasing the other, a cacophony voices and heart beats.  Paralyzed and deafened just long enough to miss the jar surrounding me and the sealing of the lid.

 How long have I truly been in the jar?

What woke me from my fear induced coma?  Perhaps the crushing pressure of loss as the possibility rich air was slowly vacuumed away.

Perhaps I was comforted for a time, cocooned in peaceful silence, giving in to the fear, and staying still.  That stillness can be viewed as a victory of sorts.  Choosing to be still.  Refusing to be prodded toward any path.  Taking the time to see through the glass without distraction.  Time to slow my racing heart and calm the frenetic thoughts in my mind.  Moments my mind used to remember the joy of anticipation and the rush I feel striking out on a new path with fresh air and heightened senses.  Memories triggering feelings.  Feelings awakening need.  Need forcing my eyes, heart, and soul to wake,  look around me, and catch that fleeting reflection in the glass.  To truly see the flickering and wilted fairy. And the spell was broken.  The stillness shattered, revealing the spoils of my stillness like the unveiling of a bride.  But where my eyes had seen solutions that blinded my heart, my soul saw the inconspicuous curved walls of my prison and the wilting of the precious family I hold above all.