What could have been.

I’ve muttered the following statement before, only to myself and perhaps once or twice to my husband: “If I didn’t end up here, I also could have been a pretty good heroin addict.”

This might seem shocking or unsettling to those of you who know me, but I don’t mean it to be at all.  Really.  To reassure you, I am great.  I love life, like seriously love life.  My day can be made great with the sight of a hummingbird, the blossom of a hibiscus, a hearty bowl of food or the finding of a new song.  I am fairly vanilla and beyond fortunate to have the career, the family, the health, and the opportunities that I have.  But, this is precisely the point.  I could have just as easily not wandered down this path.  I can see how easily some others have ended up on a different one.  I am fundamentally no different then them.  And, to be certain, my statement is not meant to diminish, belittle or over simplify their journey.

Nonetheless, I could have been a good heroin addict.   Why?  Because life is delicate and precarious.

I am driven.  I feel deeply.  I am my harshest critic and my only competition.  Am I where I am because of these characteristics or, in spite of them?  Have I been fortunate to reach and push and not settle just enough?  Was that luck?  Was it fate?  Most certainly the mile markers along this route have guided me towards the light and not the dark.  Thank goodness I was involved in sports as a teen and didn’t keep smoking those cigarettes that I often tried at parties and knew I liked a little too much.  Thank goodness I took a chance on a very random job after being rejected from medical school twice and found myself caring a little too much about the food that was entering my body.  Thank goodness for the few in my life who have brought me back to the me that I love when I’ve been just about to stray.  Thank goodness I have a family that surrounds me and somehow infused me with the ability to recognize when I’m on a precipice and how to gently traverse away to a better vista.  And, what a glory it is that I am in a space that allows me to be aware of all this and share it with you.

I see many, many faces in a day.  I know that behind them the waters run deep. That is the utter beauty of it.  Man, I wouldn’t have it any other way.  However, I do wonder if the eyes peering back at me, often in times of despair, understand that our waters are similar?  I hope that they do.  Maybe that helps them follow a better marker.  Maybe it helps me to.

Namaste

(loosely translated, may the light in you see and recognize the light in others)

xo J

PS – if you want to linger in such thoughts longer:

https://tim.blog/2018/02/20/gabor-mate/