Reflect

You know those people who can make a decision in a split second? I am not one of them. I hardly ever make decisions based on impulse. I am the queen of pro and con lists, and cannot imagine even ordering something at a restaurant before I’ve consulted the entire menu (honestly, people put time into those so it’s rude not to read them, right?). I cried for hours on end in Grade Six because I didn’t know what I wanted to do for a living one day, and this was a problem because how was I supposed to make such a major choice with SO LITTLE TIME?!

“Let me think about it.”

“I’ll get back to you.”

“I honestly don’t know yet, I’m still trying to decide.”

These words roll over my lips much more often than I care to admit, and I hear them regularly too.  Some of us are paralysed by the idea of making the wrong decision, so we end up in a decision-making purgatory of our own design. We are so aware of the intricacies and possible outcomes of every single option that nothing seems like a good choice anymore.

I recently made the big decision to resign. My job has been my greatest constant in the last 8 years of my life. When I was grieving, it was my safe haven. When I changed my life and decided to be the healthiest possible version of myself, work was there. My career was my grounding force as I fell in love and made new friends, and it was my solace when I had my heart broken and said goodbye to people who I had whispered the word “forever” to. It has become, largely, how I define myself. Being a workaholic was my drug of choice and badge of honour. Being constantly busy is still a socially acceptable addiction, and I was its poster child.

Please don’t misunderstand me. I love my job. I am thankful for how I have grown in it and through it. It has been the place where I met some of the people that most impacted my life, where I met colleagues who became housemates who became best friends who became chosen family. I have learnt more from my patients than I could ever teach them, and I carry their stories with me in my heart everywhere I go. I’ve been allowed to take on challenges that I didn’t think I was remotely qualified for and had people cheering me on all the way. I know, though, that it is time for new (ad)ventures and new seasons – and that scares me in all the best ways possible.

Some people think that this choice was sudden and out of character for me, and in some ways, they’re right. This decision is out of my character as I have no other job lined up, no five-year plan to offer as they ask “What’s next?”. I shared this decision-making process with only a select few people, not because I don’t trust the people in my life, but because this decision couldn’t be made based on popular opinion.

Initially, I spent a couple of months weighing up the good and bad, engaging in my typical pattern of imagining possible outcomes. This did me no good. I was stuck. I gave myself deadlines but could not meet them. I would run away from the prospect of making a choice, distracting myself with series binges and books and people, anything so I didn’t have to decide, only to have my over-analysis constantly playing as a loop in my subconscious. It was there all the time.

While catching up with friends. “You can’t leave a steady income – think about the economy!”

Out for a run. “Mmm, just imagine having the freedom to explore other passions.”

Singing in the shower. “How will this look on your CV?”

All. The. Time.

Then, one day, the answer came to me, and I was filled with a deep and steady knowing. Did the answer come from nowhere? Is this a testimony that over-analysis and constantly weighing up options works? No. It is a story of reflection.

I have learnt that reflection is different to analysis, even though for years I confused these two concepts, taking for granted that by doing the one, I was engaging in the other. Analysis is taking a choice apart bit by bit, leaving only its skeleton behind as proof of your process. It is tiring and feels like just another thing on my to-do list. My brain doesn’t know how to stop analysing once its started, trying to come to the most rational, perfect conclusion. It’s easy enough to make decisions based on analysis when it comes to choosing which car to buy or which medical aid to go for – the things that can be quantified and fit neatly in my pro and con lists. So many other choices, however, have little place for analysis, refusing to be linearly organised.

To reflect, we need to become still. We cannot see our reflection in a mirror without stopping. A tumultuous lake shows no reflection. When that same body of water is quiet, the environment around it is a crystal-clear mirror image on its surface. Reflection is about what is, not what will be or what was. I love that a synonym for reflection, “ponder”, has the word “pond” right in there as a reminder to myself of this imagery, prompting me to physically and mentally stop. To take the time to quieten down the storms of analysis and worry around my inner landscape, and to allow those waters to become still. It is when I meditate, sit in silence, and reconnect with myself that this happens. Once I do that, I can see what is truly happening around me and inside me.

That is how I made my decision, finally. By realising that I cannot be open to and expectant of new things if I am holding space for what was. By seeing the reflection in my mind’s eye of a season that is good, but is ending. I could try to stop it from happening, but that’s not how seasons work. When we try to manipulate Mother Nature, we get tsunamis and earthquakes and hurricanes. When we trust, we get growth and new fruits to enjoy.

Here’s to all of us reflecting and trusting. May we grow in this together.