Stop, Wait, And Clarity Will Bring Peace

How do we know when a decision is the right decision?  How do we know when we are making the correct life choices?  And, what if there is any doubt? 

I’ve been in recovery for alcoholism for over seventeen years.  I remember from the very early days in my very first AA group in Naples, Italy, that people would tell me that if I was at a crossroads or an impasse and I didn’t know what to do, just do nothing; that, “More will be revealed.”  Looking back over the past seventeen years, I see that this advice was quite sage, and when I actually followed it, my life choices worked out for the best.  When I didn’t, my choices were usually fraught with some sort of physical or mental trauma, like restlessness, irritability, and discontent. 

I’ve learned that waiting is often my best course of action when faced with indecision.  I’ve learned that taking time to listen to the little voice inside me playing Devil’s advocate may not be a bad thing.  Sometimes that voice keeps me from falling headfirst into disaster.  I have also learned that sometimes, I must stop listening to that voice, lest it lead me to a road paved of darkness and even more uncertainty.  Most importantly, this lesson has taught me to stop…

Stop and breathe.  Stop and identify my immediate feelings.  Stop… and listen.  Listen to the silence and wait.  Focus on the sound of my breathing and wait.  Listen to the tones from my windchimes and wait.  Slow down. 

A friend and I were talking recently about life choices and opportunities, and he reminded me of that famous Ferris Bueller quote, “Life moves pretty fast.  If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”  I needed that reminder.

See, I lost Grubby, my husband – the love of my life, my best friend, my anchor, my person – to suicide eight months ago, thirty-five weeks ago yesterday, to be exact.  My house was filled with people immediately, and for the next two and a half weeks.  I needed that.  I needed those people to carry me through those initial days.  I went back to work after just ten days.  I also needed that, that return to stability, to normalcy, and something else to focus on beyond my intense grief.  After two months, I knew it was time to step back and take a leave of absence and focus on grieving and healing. 

It has been six months since I have been at work, and I wish I could say that I missed it, but I don’t.  I miss the people, but not the job, not the stress – a stress which used to ignite me now just gives me a huge amount of anxiety when I think about it.  I have spent the past six months stopping and looking around, and I am glad that I have.  It’s the first time in my adult life that I’ve done this, and it has been incredibly cathartic.  I have cried ugly, sobbing tears.  I have screamed and shouted at my husband, and even shaken the box of cremains on the bedside table.  I have taken Abby on adventures and travels.  I’ve taken naps.  And, I have stopped and listened…

It’s true that if you don’t know what to do, it’s best to do nothing.  It’s true that things will become clearer while you wait.  And, once you think you know, the best way to tell that it is the right decision is to stop and see how you feel once you have made it.  Even if it is only a decision in your mind, and you have taken no action yet, if you have made the correct decision, you will be at peace with it, and you will not be on the fence any longer.  There will be no more doubt, and your head and heart will be aligned.  As I am getting closer to vocalizing my decision, I feel a bit like I did when I first reached out to AA in Naples, or when I decided to take the plunge and move to Virginia to be with Grubby every day.  I am hopeful, and excited for what my future may bring.