Call Me Miss Excuses

Ever since I was a little kid, I had an excuse for everything.  It became a crutch for me to lean on whenever I needed or wanted to avoid something.  You name the event, the activity, the choice at hand, and I had an excuse.  I “excused” myself out of my teens, twenties, thirties…you get the point.  It ruled my life.  It took my livelihood and I let it.

 

Why do we choose to avoid situations instead of confronting them and allowing ourselves to move forward?  That is a good question and I can only speak from my experience.

 

First of all, I hate having to confront anything, let alone myself.  I just hate confrontation in general.  It takes too much work and energy.  I like to sit in the back of the room, observe and learn.  I do not like to take matters into my own hands so to speak.  Therefore, I use creative means to get around this whenever necessary to avoid the task at hand.  I call them creative means; you may refer to them as excuses.

 

What I have failed to realize is the measures taken to go this route are more costly to me and more time-consuming.  I have to create a reason/an excuse as to why I am avoiding whatever the situation is at hand.  That takes up too much time pondering what my excuse will be and how to defend it if necessary.  Simply put, it would be easier to just do whatever the task or event is.  I, however, am not happy unless I take the long way around to solve an issue.  I am so in denial.

 

Why am I this way?  I sat down one day in the thinkers position (which to me is not that comfortable) and thought about it.  What really is behind all of this avoidance crap?  I thought and thought until something hit me.  Something did hit me…a newspaper (it was my fault, I was sitting out on the front porch and right in the line of fire for the paperboy…) right smack in the left eye (his aim is getting better).  Fear…ah yes, it rears its ugly head again and again and again.  I have been under its thumb for too many years.  My life is draped in fear and wall-papered in excuses.  I have built this shelter so well, I have pigeon-holed myself in.   I need to tear things apart to get to the real me.  I hate remodeling!  Yet I must chisel on…

 

I taught myself the ability to fail.  I felt comfortable with that.  No expectations, no pressure, disappointments were created specifically to my liking, and I never had to leave my comfort zone.  But was I happily living in the comfort zone or deluding myself into believing I was?

 

We conjure up ideas of what we feel our comfort levels should be and we stick to them like glue.  We fight hard to maintain this and if anything arises that threaten that state; we fight to keep the status quo.  There is no tipping of the apple cart here because we never allow any fluctuation or wiggle room.  We never take a chance.  I never allowed myself to believe I had any potential deep down inside of me to succeed.  I waged a war to avoid this because the risk of finding out or proving me wrong was too great a price to pay.

 

Well, darn it, we have to prove ourselves wrong, pay the price and take the risk.  How can we grow, gain new experiences, if we never allow ourselves the chance to try something new – even if it is something scary?  I look back at myself and I gave up relationships, jobs, many opportunities in order to stay “comfortable”.  I was miserable and told myself it was in my best interest that I stayed the same.  Living this way prevented me from trying and not succeeding, from getting hurt, from risk itself.

 

All of this time, I could have been flying high and achieving and setting new boundaries, new goals, new horizons.  I let fear take my hand and walk with me.  I thought I was safe, but playing it safe isn’t really living.  You miss out on so much for so little in return.  You end up looking back years later to see how miserable and resentful you have become.  You feel you wasted this valuable gift you were given in the first place.  No one should have a basket full of regrets as they near the end of their life.  No one!

 

Life is short and we only get one life (unless we are a cat and they get nine, but do not get me started on that pet peeve).  It is already a rough journey.  Do we need to make it harder?  Shouldn’t we try to find some enjoyment, some lesson, some meaning?  Shouldn’t there be more bright spots instead of darkness?

 

 

I got up from the thinkers position (first, I had to straighten up and man did my back hurt!) and decided to move ahead for once.  To stop trying to be clever and invent excuses for avoiding everything.   Learn to live for once and make the right choice this time.

 

Stop the excuses, get off your butt and experience life.  Take it head on and face whatever the consequences may be and most of all, steer clear of any excuse that prevents you from doing this.  I now feel so empowered I may jump out of a plane, but then again there is no need for me to go overboard here.

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