Sometimes You Just Have to Say F*k It

 

Timing is everything, and seldom do we have a say in the most profound coincidences. Perhaps because there is no such thing as coincidence. Every event in life is a deeply orchestrated conspiracy of miniscule, spur-of-the-moment decisions and intricately timed occurrences leading to exactly one outcome out of millions of possibilities. Usually these possibilities were, up until moments ago, completely impossible.

But we are human and constantly in search of control, feeding the need to believe that we can orchestrate our futures through detailed contemplation and cautious planning, when in reality, it’s the “Fuck it” moments that lead us to the truth of our own existences. We map out our next steps, figure we have everything lined up to meet that next goal, or experience, when in reality, sometimes we need to burn the map and trust our instincts.

Case in point, from my own experience, the unplanned events and knee jerk reactions have not only had the greatest impact in my life but have been the most authentic because I didn’t have time to get in my own way. A phone call from a friend, giving my nineteen-year-old self five minutes to go from just showered to dressed and ready to go out with friends would cause ripples that would quietly move through the next thirty-five years, disturbing the surface of the water only occasionally before going silent again, and everyone knows that still waters run deep. And decades later, a simple “fuck it” decision to allow my former neighbor to share my contact information, made with the best of intentions, would unleash hell freeing my most deeply buried demons, allowing them to stomp all over my hard-earned peace.

Now, nearly six months later I have ridden Satan’s own roller coaster of emotions, self-esteem issues and, if I’m honest, self-awareness lessons. By the end of the last circuit around the track, I feel I could have faced down the Old Man with a glass of whiskey in one hand, a stack of photographs in the other and a sarcastic smirk that simply says, “Try again”.

Survival became my hallmark and the ability to stand alone, decisive and unyielding, was my comfort zone. I never gave it much thought as to how I became so good at it. The public at large commented regularly on how “commendable” it was and the allure of the mystique that comes with formidability. This was who I had become; everyone’s big sister, protector, problem solver and example of strength and cunning. Admittedly, there is a comfort in being that person, held at a distance, and out of reach to drama and vulnerability. Of course, there were moments when small pangs of regret surfaced at the realization that the price of this “security” was being alone. Permanently.  Yet there is comfort to be found in no longer needing to worry about being vulnerable and, yet again, being laid bare emotionally. It frees one up to be a better friend. Compassion is not lost, but rather is refocused on friends and family. There is a certain inner peace that comes with that detachment from any other entanglement.

And back to the “Fuck it” moments, when the impossible comes flying at your face so fast that you don’t have time to process it and in a flippant moment of imagined impenetrability, open the door and say “Sure! Let’s talk.” In a single moment, a voice, and a laugh, three decades of self-delusion descend on you like an avalanche and you stand there, taking tons of memories, questions, fears and decisions like a champ as they pummel you with the Truth. Then in an ironic twist, gently tend your wounds and contrary to the story you’d told yourself for all those years, remind you that you are not alone, but you also have very little control over what is meant to be, and at your core, were always more Chaos and Fight than Plan. Trust becomes part of the conversation and no matter how hard the old demon Control tries to step in, the soul knows better.  The realization that timing was everything, and what was wanted, wasn’t right at one time, but at this point.. well, the signs are there, slowly revealing themselves as hints to the future which is, undeniably, Now.  SO…Fuck it. Let’s have some fun.