Etwas

A Depiction from June and July. Much water has flowed under the bridge since then, and I am in a different mental place now than I was when I wrote this. However, it still shows part of the process of learning to live with limitations. So, here it is.

I prefer to take action. Problems are seen, problems are fixed. Either with professional skill, through a conversation, or by trying to handle the situation I am in. It’s action; identifying the problem, analyzing the situation from a logical standpoint, and charging forward to solve things.

That’s it. Everything can be managed with the right attitude, a clear head, and the will to succeed. Any problem or challenge can be resolved if I want it enough.

Everything can be fixed.

All I just mentioned rings hollow for me now and was the attitude I used for most of my adult life.

Almost.

In personal matters, this method has worked terribly. There, it’s about other people, whose opinions I can’t change one bit. So, instead, for many years, I’ve agonized over situations where I didn’t know where I stood.

Fully aware that it must be terrible to be on the receiving end when/if I make my own decisions.

But when I’ve made such a decision, I was ready to act. Used to it from work. From studies. From video games. From what I’ve learned in life and relationships.

You follow through with your actions.

If you set your mind to banging your head against a wall, it will break at some point. Unless you crack your skull first. Make sure to have a tough forehead.

Action is good when it creates a change for myself or in well-communicated cooperation with others. When those you are with agree on the action and have a common starting point and goal. In projects and relationships.

We can act for ourselves and try to make choices and actions that are good for us.

This brings me to something about realization.

I have a bad habit of overthinking, overanalyzing, and endlessly thrashing circumstances to find the “right” solution to situations, whether it’s love, work, breakups, or life when it doesn’t go well.
I’ve tried to think my way out of situations and find the perfect way out of problems. Worried too much.

But I get nothing out of that thought process except frustration over how little it works. The thoughts in my head rarely become more than frustrations, and if I finally take action and do what I have thought of, the desired result is missing.

The body reacts.

Through overthinking before acting, there often comes a physical reaction and a little voice that tries to push in another direction. An alarm bell, which I’ve felt as a tickling in the neck and a tingling in the forehead.

A sudden thought that asks me to stop before I throw myself headlong into a new series of actions. That asks me to let go of the desire to act because, in the end, nothing good comes from holding on to a destructive thought or a negative pattern of action. The body reacts and communicates. But my head could drown it out with mental turmoil and doomsday scenarios.

I have been in situations both in the past and later where the only wish I had was to take action. To try to fix things the way I wanted to fix them. With questionable results.

Action is not always my friend.

But maybe realization is, now that I give it space.

The Conversation with “The Navigator”

I had a conversation with an elderly gentleman in Aarhus, a skilled silversmith.
When I asked him if I could share our conversation, he said yes, as long as I didn’t call him the Jeweler, as I originally thought.

So, here he goes by the name “The Navigator”.

We talk from time to time. This time about love, which has been a central theme this summer. I was in the middle of a frustrating situation, wanting to act and try to turn back time. He told me about when he was young, about the great love of his life, his soulmate.

They had known each other since they were young, had grown and developed in different directions, but had remained fond of each other. He didn’t know how to do it, how to talk to her and tell her what he felt, because he didn’t dare.

Then, in older age, when he got divorced, it was finally time, he said.
Now they were to be together, but for sad reasons, it didn’t happen.
It hurt back then and still does.

“How did you get over it?” I asked him.

“I learned to live with it,” he said.
I didn’t find it particularly encouraging.
“But it doesn’t have to be encouraging,” he told me. The realization lay in, that it was in the past. He couldn’t change it, so he had to live with it instead.

Linked to that experience, he had a thought he brought into the conversation. He told me about the three rules that the AAA people live by. (The Serenity Prayer, which I later googled).

1. Grant me the strength to accept what I cannot change
2. Grant me the strength to change what I can
3. Grant me the wisdom to know the difference

“That makes sense here,” I said.

“You can’t change what has already happened or what is beyond your control. You can’t change anyone but yourself. But you can learn to live with it,” he told me.

“How is that?” I asked. “Not easy. But you get used to it,” he said. We talked about reflecting on one’s actions and life. Something he started doing about his relationships at 50. He congratulated me on starting it now.

Then Realization

The realization that there are many situations where there’s nothing I can do. Other than starting with myself.

You can only change yourself and your thoughts. I can say what I mean, wish, and dream of, give advice, or offer help. But often that’s where the possible action space ends.

“Those who do not mourn do not reflect, do not feel, or are not in touch with emotions that lead to sorrow. Those who mourn try to make it better,” he said something along those lines. He referred to “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth” from the Bible.

Ended up buying a ring for my thumb and thanked him many times for the conversation. Left in a slightly better mood. But also a bit sad. I am sad right now, have been for a long time without finding the words for it or daring to grapple with it.

It’s okay to be sad.

So, I remind myself that there’s nothing I can do right now, other than to be good to myself and create a good personal foundation. Now and in the future. Otherwise, I’ll fall into the same negative patterns of action, where I overthink and try to create changes where changes are not possible.

I can’t do that.

So, I acknowledge that I was sad most of the summer.

That there is much in my life I cannot change, and that it will be different at some point.

Not necessarily better, but different.

The best action for me is to not act when I can’t or shouldn’t act and to acknowledge that there are things in my life beyond my control that I can’t do anything about. And be aware of where I can make a difference in my life.

That’s the way it is.
And I’m learning to live with it.