Hour Glass Fingers

I am generally a very positive and motivated person. I truly believe in purpose, I believe in God, and I believe in the goodness of people paying it forward.

But there are days....days when everything I thought I knew I've watched slip through my hands right in front of my own eyes. I'm going to call it a moment of having Hour Glass Fingers. Once we tip over the glass and it's set in motion all we can do is watch it slip through time and feel the hopelessness of seeing it disappear before you can hardly get a look at each grain of sand.

Recently this happened to me. I was feeling so confident and so "on Purpose". I stared what I thought was going to be the greatest moment of my life directly in the face...one I felt could change my life forever. I took a deep breath ....and with my head high and shoulders back, I gave it all I had believing wholeheartedly in it. I smiled as I looked it square in the face.....then....Smack...think again....it back-handed me across the cheek.

The sand started spilling everywhere and as I desperately tried to grab what had fallen and sift it into the mix still on top I found myself grasping at the silent air of an ended opportunity. A passing moment in the the diary of my life with a lifeless pile of sand on the floor. I just sat and stared at it. I stared at it for 8 days. Really...Eight L--o---n---g days. I didn't know what else to do. It was this beautiful mess of my dreams spilled on the floor and all I could was stare at it and cry, completely hopeless for 8 ridiculous days.

So now what? Do I sweep it up? Did I just waste 8 whole days sulking? No...they weren't wasted. I needed to just feel the loss this time. So often I, like so many of us, like to just sweep the sand under the kitchen rug and pretend it didn't spill in the first place and move on...marching forward with a fractured smile. When in reality the damn sand is still under the rug isn't it? Imagine how that builds up over time, sweeping and moving on, sweeping and moving on...then it probably festers with ants. I've had ants before and it's absolutely no fun!

So, staring at it this time, seeing each grain of my dream lifeless on the floor gave me the time to feel what it meant to me. I realized that taking risks and committing to a goal means: realizing it's ok to be vulnerable. Vulnerability is inherent in admitting you want something and the belief that it was worth working toward, even if it means risking the pain of losing it before you know it's success.

So...after 192 hours, yes 8 tumultuous days of complete and utter self-pity, I scooped it up and saved it. I knew it wouldn't serve me to keep it under the rug and why throw it away when I wanted it so badly? Ultimately, I kept it because I was grateful it brought me to this place of realization of what I really wanted. I was grateful it made achieving that dream so much sweeter when it finally happens and it's made me that much more determined and full of perseverance to get there.

In conclusion, I had to sweep up the sand and get it off of the floor because I know I'm going to need a clean floor to DANCE on when my victory song is finally played. Oh how sweet that dance will be!