I’m Thankful for the Bad Things

November 22, 2017
I'm Thankful for the Bad Things

I have pinpointed this year to be full of both personal and professional challenges. For one, determining a conscious level of work-life balance that is satisfactory continues to charge in the direction of near-impossibility, as I find myself constantly assessing small and large changes that would work towards the enhancement of that pursuit of symmetry. In no way are these assessments easy; in fact, I’m actively fluctuating between staying in place and adding responsibilities, with the expectancy that I will plow through hardships as I have been, or stepping outside of my comfort zone of sorts to implement something that I have no idea if I’d be successful in. It’s a pesky kind of uneasiness, this search for stability, especially since deciding one way or another has a direct correlation to how much time I’ll get to spend with my children in the future. The deadline to choose a trajectory is approaching, and I’m still so unsure. 

Adulting is tough, isn’t it?  

It’s all about work and play and anxieties and civilities. It’s about the red lights and the horn beeps, the freeway and the back roads. We cannot take “Move A” without negatively affecting “Terms B-Z.” It’s an either-or, slippery slope, red herring establishment that’s mostly not fun in the least. We have to seek out the fun and, even then, the fun is fleeting, not at all guaranteed.  

I’m thankful for the opportunity to make hard decisions, though. Life-altering choices are rarely effortless. 

And if I make the “wrong” selection, I have to be prepared with a Plan C, even though C is more paralyzing than both A and B. 

However, I’m thankful for fear. Fear is a force, a wedge of pressure that fights impulse. Fear tells me that I have to do something different now; that time in the present doesn’t exist because it’s already past; that if I fail to move, I lose. Fear is Step 1. 

I’m thankful for stress. Stress affirms the answers to those hard-to-ask-out-loud questions. It promises that, in time, it will operate differently, perhaps better in my favor, perhaps out of passion than obligation. 

I’m thankful for insecurity. Without appraisal, I wouldn’t eventually know if I’m worth the endeavor, that if I want more, I shouldn’t feel badly for it. Insecurity makes one double-take; insecurity unveils an alternate truth. 

I’m thankful for inconvenience. Inconvenience propels. It’s a sleep position that, once stops functioning, must be adjusted as immediately as possible. If a place is uncomfortable, one has limited election but to take another gradation out. Inconvenience is made of an honesty serum.  

I’m thankful for frustration. Frustration ejects power; it shows more disappointment in failed expectation than that of a selfish venture. Frustration has an affinity for resolution. It orders a new decisiveness. 

I’m thankful for trial, for tribulation, for faith-based tests, for non-excuses. With these layers of “bad things,” I pack away for virgin journeys, most of which I cannot yet even see the beginnings of paths to. But I know I’ve got to go… 

…I just literally have to touch a toe forward. And that’s hard and terrifying. 

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