The Middle

I wanted to call my blog “the Middle,” because that’s where I find myself—and that’s where I’m wanting to learn to cope.

In the middle.

I’ve passed a lot of milestones. I have more to come, God willing.

But it’s taken me a while to realize that so much of life is learning to deal with the middle.

The slog.

The parts where nothing seems to change.

The parts where you barely hold on. When you want to go home or take a nap or do something else for a change, and you can’t.

So I want to explore what it feels like to make it through the middle. Not the exciting start of a new adventure. Not the final push toward the finish line.

But the middle.

Is part of being an adult getting used to discomfort? Disappointment?

I’m moving into new territory these days, caused by my desire to develop myself into more of my potential. That feels like a bunch of buzz words. What I really feel is like I have these unmapped parts of myself that I know have treasure and resources and areas to explore, and now I’m giving myself time to explore them.

“Get used to disappointment” — Wesley from the Princess Bride

But part of this exploration is sometimes I don’t quite make it. I set a goal for myself to write every day and *gasp* I miss a day. So is that a failure? An ending?

No. I get up the next day and try again.

I’m in the middle, slogging along. I’m not starting anything. There’s no end—at least not right now. Just…the middle.

My therapist says I’m not training for an Olympic event, I’m not an athlete only focused on one part of my life; instead, I’m multi-dimensional. And part of being multi-dimensional is the tug and pull of different choices of things to do with my time.

Do I watch TV with my kid or do I write? Do I go to the gym or get a pedicure? Do I take a moment to text a friend or do I figure out how to do things on this blog? (Let alone what part of work to work on at any given time.)

I have no idea what the answers are—I think it depends on what I’m feeling in the particular moment and what is right based on all the circumstances—but there is a disappointment, dis-ease, discomfort in the times when I promise myself I’m going to write and instead I go to the gym. Both are what I want to do. But I can’t do them both at once.

Getting used to the middle—to the tug of varying priorities, to the slog—that’s being an adult.