How often do we impose timelines on ourselves? Boldly declaring the exact magic amount of seconds, minutes, hours, days, or years that it will take before we are healed, ok, over it, happy, ready to move forward, or ready to take the next step.
It feels like a set-up. “After three days — you will feel better.” “You need one year for every four years you were together to feel finished.” “After five months — your life will be back to normal.” “You have to know each other for a year before you can become serious.” “Gimme a second, and I will be alright.”
What if it didn’t work that way? What if it is really four days until you feel better? What if you only needed 2 months for every 7 years you were together? What if you can never find normal? What if 3 months feels right and it already is serious? What if after a second, it isn’t alright.
Over the past 16 days — I have had two eye surgeries with a total of 7 days flat on my back, staring at the ceiling except to eat or go to the bathroom. My third surgery is scheduled for Monday.
There was only suppose to be one surgery. One. The magic numbers were: one surgery, three days on the back, seven days to be signed off as great. Boom! Then– everything goes as planned — life moves on — everything is normal.
Obviously, I am re-adjusting my timeline — my expectations. I’ve had to ask for more help. I’ve had to cancel my trip to Florida. I’ve had to deal with disappointment, sadness, frustration, and then muster up all the positive sunshine energy about how the third time is a charm.
The eye surgery was one of the last things on my list of things I needed “to get through” before I feel like my laundry list of heavier topics could be put in the spin cycle and life would seem lighter.
Once again I am reminded — it is about fousing on the moment, the here and now. Not waiting for time to pass, not delaying happiness until something happens, not waiting for the perceived right amount of time before moving forward.
Be exactly where you are when you are there.
This is a lesson that I am learning — again and again. I will most likely be cementing it to my memory banks as I look at the ceiling for 259,200 straight seconds beginning on Monday.