Do you ever get ‘decision fatigue’ where you’re just tired of having to make big decisions that come with weighty consequences? I think that’s a thing. I know I’ve felt it. And when decision fatigue has been at its most intense, even the simple decisions feel hard…like what to wear or what gift to buy a friend. The reality that our entire lives are made up of one long string of decisions, both big and small, is not a new concept of course. But I think sometimes we are so accustomed to making decisions that then any of our future decisions feel like they are set in stone, too. Do you get what I’m saying? It’s almost *almost* like we get “cocky” and think that because we are so practiced at making decisions, that we can foretell the decisions we will face in the future and even foretell their consequences. [I wonder if you can relate……….]
Yet.
Turns out, no matter how much or how little thought went into a decision, no matter how practiced we are at stringing together decision after decision, no matter the research and the statistics and the educated guesses and no matter our track record of accuracy, the fact of the matter is that decisions are actually made in the exact moment they are made…not back when we were projecting and not from a place of hindsight. And the other fact of the matter is that we *actually* have no idea how it will turn out until we are *on the inside* of the *actual* consequences.
This doesn’t mean that we don’t wisely discern the possibilities that lie on the other side of a choice we are facing, but to think we have it all figured out (whether we admit that we do that or not) might just set us up for frustration. And I think then, that that frustration is what lends to decision fatigue. To be true, it’s hard work trying to predict what will happen, wondering if we’re right or wrong, playing out all the scenarios so we don’t get caught off-guard, getting our hearts and souls prepared for *all* of what *might* be. I know this because I used to live there 99% of the time. . .
And then my cancer diagnosis hit. In the days, weeks and months following this life-left-turn, I quickly realized that the tank that holds my energy was now all-consumed by just showing up, no predictions, no preparedness. And then the lesson that came after was that I’d learn new information when I needed to learn it which would help to make the next most immediate decision when it needed to help me make the next most immediate decision. And the lesson underlying all of this is that if I’d learned everything up front, I wouldn’t have needed faith. Or grit. Or fortitude. Or resilience.
My theory is this – if I feel weary, it may in fact be because I am mismanaging my expectations…I’m running my tank dry by trying to predict and prepare for a consequence of a decision that may or may not even need to be made. And by not simply showing up and trusting that I’ll learn the information necessary for my next immediate decision, I’m ragged and tired from reaching for something that is only a figment of my imagination that even still may or may not even become reality. So when I feel tired, I remind myself to just show up and do the best I can with what I know because that is LITERALLY all I have….and it is in this emptiness that I am humbled. It is here that I have to engage my faith and grit and fortitude and resilience. And it is here that I find rest.
*Post 970
Much In My Head :: 11/29/17 :: Post 93
Work was hard today…and I was reminded just how tired my body is because of just how hard it is working.
I’m emotional tonight…there is much in my head. …why must so many people suffer? …it’s hard living an unchanged life, changed. …peanut butter is NOT a friend to chemo stomach. …I felt a little worse today than yesterday. …tomorrow will be a tough day to get through. …my scalp is so tender. …this journey is emotionally exhausting. …I’m halfway there. …the physical pain I am still in from surgery is unfortunate. …Great-grandpa Cal just came in and prayed with me, I cried. …I’m grateful for a strong body that keeps fighting.
I’ve hit my wall. Sleep is overtaking me. Even with much in my head.
Please :: 11/29/18 :: Post 442
The black of more unknown. Blind faith. Desperate hope. Relentless perseverance.
Lord, please.
Gratitude Month Day 29 :: 11/29/19 :: Post 805
Two years ago, I learned that peanut butter did NOT sit well on a chemo-stomach. And I also learned that a balding scalp was really quite painful.
Last year I remember we were at an all-time high stress level because nothing about selling our house and buying this one was easy and we just kept running into issue after issue until the very.bitter.end (which wasn’t until December 1 and mind you, we started the process in July).
Tonight, I feel a mix of things… It was a day spent with family again as we did our Havekost Thanksgiving and it was so great. I love my in laws and they make my heart happy. We laughed, a lot. We ate, a lot. And it was my mother in law’s birthday today so we got to spend her birthday together with everyone just like we got to spend my momma’s birthday with her yesterday. So today was fun. And I do really love that these people are not just family, but dear dear friends. But while at my sister in law’s house, I hit a wall and then it was all I could do to keep it together and not lose it emotionally. And the thing that pushed me over the edge – a hot flash. Because it was like the 137th of the day (or so it felt). I don’t know about other women, but hot flashes often make me go from happy to grumpy in a matter of seconds. I loathe them. These are the things they don’t tell you about. Granted, it seems so insignificant compared to “you have cancer” but nonetheless, hot flashes SUCK. They are a little twist of the knife in my back…reminding me that my body is a hot mess. Literally. *eye roll
Gratitude Month Day 29 – In all honesty (because I really don’t know anything different), I’m struggling tonight with feeling much gratitude. Besides, of course, calling out my family and time spent with them, which I am truly grateful for. I’m so done with today.