“I’m comfortable in the chaos,” I admitted with hesitation. I knew saying it made it real, and now it would be something I’d have to let go of. “I’m so used to struggling and being broken or damaged… it may not be enjoyable, but it’s known and familiar.”
It was true. I didn’t know how to be, just… okay.
After all, I hadn’t been ‘okay’ in a while.
“I don’t understand,” I said with that well-worn frustration that had colored the last six months, “I’m just supposed to make enough money and be in healthy relationships and be good all the time? What is that even?!”
He laughed, as he did, because he loved when I had ahas. Because he knew what I knew… it was real now, and it was something I could finally let go of.
It’s been a year and a half since that conversation. Since I recognized a part of me that found so much comfort in chaos. Since I began the work to untangle that way of being and began finding my footing inside a life that is more stable, supportive, healthy, and loving. Since I did the work to clear out the relationships, ways of being, and tolerations that were keeping me small and stuck. Since I began demanding more from life, myself, my work, and my relationships.
I no longer find comfort in chaos, a sense of certainty in struggle.
Mostly because now I see how unnecessary it is.
How we’re always one choice away from creating something different. Not in that ‘just be positive’ spiritually bypassing sort of way… but in remembering that we always have the power to create what we desire.
Even in the most chaotic of experiences.
Making that choice will break you clean in two sometimes. It will break your heart and ask you to let go of more than you ever thought you were capable of living without. It will challenge you to grow in ways you’re not certain you can. It will feel like one step forward and five crashing steps backward more often than not.
But it is always within our reach.
Learning new ways of being is some of the most challenging work we’ll ever do, because it requires letting go of everything you believed kept you safe, loved, and secure. Everything that brought you to where you are now. Alive, successful, belonging, and out of harm’s way.
But oftentimes, the only way to move into what comes next… to step into who you’re here to be and the work you’re here to do… is to release your attachment to what’s kept you safe, loved, and secure. You have to be willing to risk comfort and certainty and leap wholeheartedly into the unknown.
All I can say is that it was worth it.
That my life and work and relationships are immensely better.
And that I am far happier than I ever was clinging to chaos.
I thought it was a lifeline… it was really just an anchor.