You know how it can feel so easy to separate the laundry, start a load in the wash, and even move it all to the dryer, but the minute it is time to fold and put it all away, the task suddenly feels insurmountable?
You look at the huge pile of clothes and linens and wonder what you have gotten yourself into. You convince yourself you'll never find the time to get it all done, so you just leave it sitting in the basket. Each day you find yourself passing by the wrinkling bundle of cloth, you feel like a failure, but you still can't bring yourself to sit with it all--it just feels like way too much.
I'm beginning to think this is a metaphor for life . . . or, at the very least, for the things we want to accomplish in life, but do not attempt.
I become paralyzed at times, so fraught with anxiety over wanting to DO ALL THE THINGS that I just . . . don't do any of them.
I quit while I am ahead, while there is no real danger of failure. Because if I never try, if I never put in the effort, there is no harm done, right? No love or time lost?
But, that's not true, is it?
Far from it, really.
The failure lives in the moment I decide the task I so desperately want to accomplish is too much for me. Once I am there, I have already failed. I have failed myself. In that moment, I have decided my fear of failure is more powerful than my desire to try--more powerful than my worth.
Because that's what it comes down to, doesn't it? Worth.
We'll ask ourselves if we have the right to try, if we have enough knowledge to try, who are we to try. We'll ask ourselves why anyone would want what we have to offer, hasn't that already been done, doesn't that already exist.
And it all comes back to not finding ourselves, our thoughts and desires, worthy. We don't feel worthy of the success that may come if we try.
So we don't.
We walk past the basket of dreams, piled on top of each other like discarded, wrinkling clothes, and we sigh and wish and think "One day . . . I'll get to it one day." Until that day comes and nothing fits like it used to, it's all been sitting at the bottom of that pile for so long.
When we don't try? When we convince ourselves we are not worthy, that we are not strong enough brave enough pretty enough thin enough wealthy enough? That's where we fail. Right there.
I'm tired of failing before I even start. I'd rather fail in the middle of it all, kicking and screaming and trying my hardest, than never trying.
I'd rather fail epically, enjoying the ride for as long as I can, than continue to talk myself out of dreaming.