"Serially obsessive." That's how I've described myself for years. The obsessions varied over the years, including genealogy, medieval history, knitting, crewel embroidery, counted cross stitch, refinishing furniture, writing a macro in Word that would have generated a long involved court order with MANY variables but actually resulted in killing at least two hard drives, teaching myself html coding, photography, the history of women in my profession, crossword puzzles and, alas, computer games. The computer games have varied over the years beginning way back when we got an old TI-99A4 computer for the boys and I taught myself to get through all the levels of the original Mario Brothers game. Lately they've been sudoku, Yubotu, and word drop. But they're insidious.
I admitted another compulsion that came into my mind with clarity on December 17, 2006, that being the obsession with food, with compulsive eating. It's not serial. It's parallel with all the rest all the time forever. Computer games and compulsive eating. Totally different animals. But it's the same illness, and when one rears its head, its sister accompanies. I have not played a computer game today. I have not eaten compulsively today. I will not play a computer game today, with God's help. I will not eat outside my food plan today, but that's impossible on my own strength.
How good can you be? More specifically, what level of achievement is permissible for you? What's the picture of the pinnacle of success for you? The Nobel Prize? An Oscar? A New York Times Best Seller? Establishing a Fortune 500 business? Election to the Senate? Amassing a hundred million dollars? What's the top?
Is it okay for you to get to the top? That's the question that set me back, that started my almost intentional procrastination--chronic low-intensity fear. My actual answer is easy. No. It's not okay for me to get to the top. Of course that begs the hard one, WHY!!?? Simple answer? You might see me.
That's ludicrous. I'm a public figure. I give speeches, take a leadership role in most things I participate in, stick myself out for you to see. How can the answer be "you might see me?" Expectations. I was raised with high expectations, the duty to be educated, to be a professional, to be a leader. And I've achieved that. Yet the achievements match or reflect those of most members of the family. What if I let go and lose control? What if I chance to reach one of those superlatives? OR HIGHER! Ouch! That's terrifying. Harrowing. Paralyzing.
Yeah. Paralyzing. If I stay here, if I fall backward, if I wander around on the same plateau, you won't look at me. But if I really let go and let God have control of my life? What if he reached my wildest dreams for me? My wildest dreams are nightmares of embarrassment, of being in the limelight. Help!
Tomorrow's Yesterday
It's more comfortable to sit in a cornerthan to sort out a meaningful path,
to stay in stasis at yesterday.I meant for my life to matter,
I yearn for difference tomorrow
though comfort means to sit around.How boring - though safe - to sit around,
sucking my thumb, a tot in a corner
hiding from fear of tomorrow,
fear of the forks in the path
but heck, does it really matter
whether I fear the unknown or yesterday?How soothing is the fiend yesterday?
Resentments dance with shoulds around
oughts and regrets. A trivial matter
lurks there for years, leaping from a corner
into my way, blocking the well-chosen path
to imagined triumphs and honor tomorrow.What if I fall on my face, humbled tomorrow
as I have been these countless haunting yesterdays?
Does nobility, courage of the chosen path
shine brightly, or does disaster peek at me around
another inevitable blind corner -
ubiquitous "theys" say only todays matter.I could have been a contender. I could matter
in grand schemes of the history of tomorrow.
Does fame - or infamy - lurk around that corner?
When I look at the future as another yesterday
will it seem to have changed for I was around?
Will admiration trace my innovative path?Like Merlin, God lives backwards, the path
clear from one end as the other, matters'
meanings unmuddled. He turns around
and surveys, satisfied, countless tomorrows
and the coming versions of yesterday
laid out clearly, unblocked by turns and corners.God's present, around as I ponder each pathknowing what a corner may hide. It doesn't matterI can't see tomorrow. It's my God's yesterday.
2 comments:
good post, Stepper. and the poem is perfect with it. :) now, i have the same problem of wasting time instead of being productive. i'm ready to say procrastination may be a low grade fear, but i love being in the spotlight and don't think my underlying hesitance is the same as yours. any other suggestions? bh
Procrastination due to fear...hmmm story of my life so far. My fear is not so much of reaching my goals as of not reaching them. Thanks for the share. I was especailly interested in your shares about games. My own experience has included lots of other escapist activitis like sci-fi, and until OA I didn't see the connection, and thought that I was the only one who felt like this was a paralysing addiction. The extent of my addiction to escapism is noly now coming out. Keep the posts coming. There are readers
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