What am I not stepping into and why?
Is something holding me back?
Is it holding me back or is it holding me under? Is there a glass ceiling of sorts? How thick is it? From where I am, it’s thin, it’s low, it will shatter on my whisper.
Perhaps it’s not the ceiling or the wall or the barrier but rather what’s above it.
Are you now bigger than the vision you hold for yourself?
Having spent the last few weeks digging through junk, I mean, valuable artifacts from my past that have been buried in my mom’s attic for decades, I feel like I’m at a bit of a crossroads between the past, the present, in the future.
I flipped through hundreds if not thousands of printed photos. One that comes to mind not only for the photo but for the words of already used above (holding me under, barrier, what’s above it, digging, buried, crossroads) is one of me outside of Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City) in the Mekong river delta where I wriggled into the opening of an underground passageway. I barely fit in the hole in the ground but I clearly remember pulling the camouflaged covering over my head and dropping into the deep damp darkness of the underground.
I don’t know why this photo comes to mind at this moment unless, of course, it has some obscure meaning–or not so obscure.
In the photo, I’m smiling, even laughing. If, for some reason, this photo comes to me this morning and is an indicator of my past being underground the present being stuck in that small opening in the future being the blue sky and the lively jungle around me that I’m ready to lift myself up and out and into the future.
Having now dug up the photo I found another one that I had forgotten about. In the second photo, I’m looking down at the camouflage cover that separates the darkness of the hidden underground with what lies above.
Sure, back in the 1970s this had a whole different connotation. What was above was danger and the unknown and possibly the enemy. I was just a tourist playing the role for only a few minutes of what it was like way back when.
In the second photo, although I can’t remember what I was thinking, one possible interpretation would be, “Is that all? Is this the barrier between down there and up here? This little piece of wood with the rope handles on it that takes practically no energy to either push out from under or pull up from above? Is that all?”
The danger of what used to be above that barrier is gone. The only “danger” is that under and inside and buried is a known and confined and defined whereas what is above is an unknown and limitless and undefined. In fact, there is no danger other than the fear of the unknown.
Seeing that, and I hesitate not in the slightest saying this, I have no fear of the unknown. Let me rephrase that. I no longer have fear of the unknown. Then the question remains:
What am I not stepping into and why?
Perhaps, OK fine, very probably if not certainly, I’m influenced by the book I’m currently working on but maybe it does come down to just that: make the decision. Decide to step into my future, decide to step out of the darkness, decide to emerge into the huge world above ground, into the world of the unknown, into the world of the future, into a world where the vision of my greater self matches the size and depth and power and passion of my vision.
- What am I afraid of?
- What could possibly happen?
- What’s the worst that could happen?
- What’s the best that could happen?
- Why do I seem to be fixated on worst and best?
- What am I not stepping into and why?
There is no more barrier. There is no longer a camouflaged lid above my head. It is open. It’s waiting for me to emerge from the darkness, from the underground, from the known of the past and present.
It’s time to decide.