Do you ever just get so caught up in the moment that you can’t see beyond the elements of desire that have brought you here?
After several days of self-inspection, reflection, and contemplation, I found myself at an event where metaphors spoken were familiar, pleasing, and reminders of a better part of my identity. I’m a conglomeration of a lot of experiences in my life, most good, some irrelevant, and others too painful to reveal, but all have brought me to this place in my life.
- I can turn around, plant my feet on firm ground, and go back down the elevator to safety.
- I can topple off into the abyss and expect my determination to teach me to fly.
- I can jump, hoping for a net to appear.
- Or I can sit right there and enjoy the sunset about to happen.
- And wait for the Sunrise.
And those, my friends, are the best options… Of course, there’s the chance that a helicopter, or superman, will appear from out of nowhere and save me from my doom, but either one would be a risk I’m unwilling to take.
So what brought me to the ledge? The sunset. The clouds are perfect, and the air is clear. I wanted an unobstructed view, so here I am watching with amazement the brilliance of dazzling color, mesmerized by the incredibly decadent view of mountains, clouds drifting, and sun sinking below the horizon to send dancing colors into a vibrant sky.
When opportunities come to us, we can either embrace them and go where they take us, or step aside and let them flow to others…
After a rather sleepless night, one where tossing and turning found me tight wrapped in my sheet, strangled by my pillow, and dripping with sweat, I awakened to the sounds of blue jays crooning in the trees, golden light dancing through the filter of tree limbs outside my window, and blue skies. The opportunity presented was golden. Except.
Except that it wasn’t. It wasn’t an opportunity.
And that’s when the symbolic cleaning of the refrigerator took place, because I was starving… I made coffee and while it brewed on the counter, I searched through the layers of contents in the refrigerator, pulling out first the items on the front of the shelves, then moving deeper into the shelves until I realized one of the bowls of what might have been food in another life, was getting close to the reveal of a new life form. I chose to abort the experiment, rather than allow it to persist.That’s the point where I realized the similarities of cleaning out a refrigerator and making decisions.
Facing a new opportunity meant looking inside to find the resources necessary to follow through on the task, and I began to recognize the wall of reveal…
Over the years, I’ve built a wall at the front of the shelf. Tasty, successful times of doing what I believe are important jobs, work I love, and living a life of relevance. There are qualities of life I hold dear that make a huge difference in how I choose to live.
Personal integrity is always my standard.
If I can’t look at what I’m doing and know that it is done with the utmost integrity, and stand before man and God knowing I made the right choice, I can’t do it. And that has been my measuring stick for any number of business interests, involvements, and partnerships. If it isn’t done with integrity, it isn’t done on my watch.
Last night and this morning, it took stripping away what was on the front of the shelf to decide what to keep at the back of the fridge. The moldy science experiment went to the trash, along with what I perceived as hurt and an ability to inflict pain. Instead of keeping that old thing, I opened up space on the shelf for what is new and good and tasty, and there’s a clean, fresh space in which to store it.
Today, my fridge is clean, and I’ve made a decision to move beyond the concern brought on by the opportunity offered last night, and go with my gut instinct to enjoy this sunset and await the sunrise… I don’t have to count on my ability to sprout wings, or the ability of someone else to provide the net. I can simply enjoy the moment where I’m living, and appreciate the benefits that come with having the integrity to wait on God’s blessing.
Sometimes finding that perfect choice means talking to a friend. I can be that friend. Let’s talk – over coffee?
Kudos to Marnie for the Refrigerator analogy. Inspiration!