Don't Mind The Gap
There’s a gap.
A place somewhere in between what is happening in life and what I think should be happening.
My should story feels real.
The ideal life in my imagination does not match up to real life. Sometimes. Often. The gap appears important when I think the mismatch matters.
It is where stress, strain, fear and discontent live. It is the theatre where my scary stories run rampant. And I believe them. Because I forget they are part of my mind’s movie. Until they pass or I turn around and see the projector, the gap looks foreboding. Like something to be fixed or overcome.
My weekend helper with my son recently moved on to another job. “I should have weekend help. I need weekend help. It’s not fair that I have to rely on people and that they turn over so quickly.”
The gap looks large. And I mind it. Until I don’t. And when I don’t, I see possibility.
I am trying to find a solution to my son’s challenging cycles. The person that was helping me is no longer responding to my messages. I have to figure out what to do next.
The gap looks hard and complicated. Until I hear my wisdom. I have insights about the next steps. Signs on the road. The gap becomes a detour.
I ate too much sugar today. I should not have eaten any sugar, especially not too much. Judging myself, I hang out in the gap and search for a strategy.
Yucky gap. I want out of here. Until I notice I’m distracted by different thoughts and the gap has evaporated. Ethereal gap.
Sometimes it feels as large as the Grand Canyon or as small as the space we step over to board a train. I peer into it, teeter on the edge, and feel tension and strain. An onslaught of thoughts moving faster than the speed of life…commonly called overwhelm.
My gap has a favorite word. Should.
Should be doing this, eating this, saying this. Less this, more that.
Something, somewhere else, but really in my imagination, is better. The gap feels so solid. Until it doesn’t.
Clients come to me to help them conquer their gap(s). I point them to the thought created illusory nature of it. It is a mirage of the mind. Like water on the highway, not solid at all. More like a cloud.
In seeing the gap for what it is, it tends to dissipate on its own. As it begins to matter less or doesn’t mean what I think it means, it simply becomes another path. One of many in life where inner wisdom dribbles forth illuminating the next place to go. Or grow.
Overwhelm melts into flow.
In flow, there is peace.