I guess I simply always feel the need to be moving or going or searching. I'm learning to embrace my slower nature which more accurately matches up with my slower (or maybe should I say, thorough) thinking which when combined creates a happier Megan all together.
However, when my restless nature is combined with my 2003 Ford Escape my thinking takes the back seat and it only creates a speeding ticket on the 99 North.
What a perfect storm.
(Mom, Dad, not to worry, this story has a happy ending.)
My anxiety is and has (and probably will) always be a constant battle.
I'm a thinker and more importantly, I'm a pleaser. It's a combo that causes some detrimental psychological after affects for example my anxiety. It's a combo that allows the fear of failure to consume me--which is ultimately crippling.
I don't want to wrong anyone so in the end I end up wronging myself. I'm not trying to play the martyr role, it's just an innate facet of my being.
Anyways my point is, constantly thinking and constantly working to please equals constant pressure which equals constant anxiety which alas, equals getting pulled over for going 58 in a 40 zone.
It's funny how the consequences are sometimes so completely unrelated to your actual problems but how they cause a chain reaction of self evaluation and eventually (hopefully) change.
So the blue and red blinking lights start twinkling in my rear view mirror, the initial sinking feeling seizes my chest and I immediately know, without looking at my speedometer, that I am in deep.
I pull over. And the typical exchange happens.
Window down.
"Young lady, how fast do you think you were going?"
"Too fast"
"How fast?"
"Well, too fast, you stopped me, of course, neither of us would be here if I weren't driving too fast"
Smile, "Fifty-eight"
Nod "Too fast"
"Yes, definitely too fast. License and registration?"
Shaking hands
"Thank you."
Trots away. Radios in.
In my head I felt calm, I'm sure my face was mortified. You see, I'm sick of tickets, I'm sick of owing money. I'm sick of breaking the rules. (ah-hah!)
Breaking rules... thats just it. For the last two years I felt like I was crawling around breaking rules. Not actually literally (okay, sometimes literally) but I felt like I was living selfishly, solely for myself. And living for myself feels like breaking the rules.
I wonder if I'm painting myself to be like saint? Lord knows if you knew my entire story you wouldn't feel that way-- so just pretend you know the whole story.
I'm trying to find this healthy balance in my life that I seemed to never, either been naturally born with or, learned on my own. And by healthy balance I mean live life with out thinking about living life. If that doesn't make sense to you, consider yourself lucky.
Thank you Police Man not only for catalyzing my thoughts but also for the next progression in the plot of my day.
Return to window.
"Now, I don't do this often, but here's a warning"
Hands bury face
"Just slow down, ok?"
"I promise. Thank you."
Walk away.
If that's not grace, I don't know what is.
I have disregarded the role grace has in this life. That grace is a blessing that I have and should start considering it a remedy to my over-thinking. Grace slows me down and literally shows me the goodness and beauty available in the roots of something ugly if given the chance to prove itself-- or should I say, given a second chance to prove itself. Grace does other things as well, but for me right now Grace is showing me so much of this life, so much of myself, it's giving me a second chance and it's retrieving my true nature.
So after the exchange of warning and nervous smiles, I was reasonably shaken and slightly upset. But then I realized I should be neither of those things. I was freed to move onward only corrected for my mistake and not punished. Grace.
Once again symbolism takes the reigns in my life as an unlikely form.
