Worthiness Wednesday #82: drop out, tune in

I had a ticket to see Bat for Lashes at the Palais Theatre last night. It cost me $80. And I didn't go.

At this point, you'd be justified in wondering whether I was insane.

The truth is: I'm not.

I'm just sad.

I have been feeling sad for a little while now. But I've been ignoring -- actually, denying -- it.

Because I am not supposed to feel sad right now. I am starting the process of living a long-held dream. And it's going well!  I'm coming to the end of two intensive years of therapy. All my relationships feel healthier, more productive and more spacious than they've ever been. I've just paid off my Christmas debts. We've made heaps of progress on decluttering our home. I have a fantastic support tribe that has helped me get my energy levels back on track. We're making plans for a family holiday in the US in a few months. So many things are coming together and falling into place. All my beloveds are safe and happy and healthy... as am I.

Except, for some reason, I haven't been able to stop stuffing my face with chocolate. I also haven't been sleeping very well. And enjoying more glasses of wine than usual. Oh, and started drinking coffee again, even though it gives me headaches. My calendar is starting to bulge with social occasions that are starting to feel like obligations. I'm reading too much personal development stuff and it's overwhelming me. I'm highly anxious about my daughter's shoes, which are too small and she keeps tripping over (but she refuses to wear anything other pair). Everywhere I look, I have not done enough.

So, I got to 8.30pm yesterday -- the appointed time to pull on a dress and get in the car and drive across town to see this show -- and all I wanted to do is crawl into bed.

I discussed the Fors and Againsts with my husband.

Fors: I will enjoy it when I get there; I paid $80 for the ticket; live music has a transcendental, healing quality; I'll kick myself if I don't go; it shouldn't be too hard to get a park; I'm so curious about this girl; and her performance has got rave reviews; I'll be sitting down at the show.

Againsts: I just want to crawl into bed; I'm tired; it's a painful drive across town; it'll be a late late night; I'm going on my own (so won't be letting anyone down if I don't show); I'm not that familiar with her music; I'm going on my own (so won't have anyone to share the experience with); I just want to crawl into bed.

In the end, I just want to crawl into bed won. And I was sound asleep before 9pm.

But not before I sat with my husband and opened my heart and heard myself admit that I was feeling sad. Even though I wasn't supposed to be. Even though I have so much to be grateful for. Even thought it wasn't cool and altogether rather boring (again). Even though it defied logic.

The truth is, I am not as cool about stuff as I make out to be. The truth is, a lot of things don't come easy to me (even though it might look like they do). The truth is, I am struggling with this "trying to conceive" business, even though I am so well supported and know that everything will be OK, whether I have a baby or not. The truth is, that I am so busy making other plans that I can be so naive about the life that is happening in the meantime... until my body refuses to get changed, jump in a car, drive to St Kilda and listen to live music.

So, this week, I invite you to drop out. Go on, I dare you. Cancel out of something. Say no to something that doesn't make your heart sing, something that you may be doing just to keep someone else happy or maintain a particular appearance. Make that space for yourself. 

Fill it with nothing.

In the silence, listen. What is it your heart truly yearns for? What are your fears around this? How are you acting out some of those fears right now, albeit unconsciously? How would it feel to name those fears and sit with them for a while?

I can hazard an answer to the last one. This morning, I felt lighter. And not just because I was asleep before 9pm. (Actually, it you want to know I was awake at 2.30am, clenching my jaw and thirsty as hell.)

As I walked home from dropping my little 'un off at kinder, I could almost see my sadness walking alongside me. It was palpable and strong but no longer confusing or overwhelming. It was just there. Named. Seen.

For the first time in many months, I pulled out my camera and took a couple of photos of the morning light and vibrant colour flowers. For the first time in weeks, I felt free.

This week, give yourself the gift of space. See what sits there, waiting. And see how it can be separate from you.

Because you are worthy of vibrant flowers and live music and real conversation and a life free of subconscious tyrannies. You are worthy of life.