My day job is in the fitness industry, specifically coaching at Orangetheory Fitness. I’ve been doing that a little over a year now. It’s a one-hour, full body, high intensity workout that utilizes various equipment such as a treadmill and water rower. Today’s workout involved a lot of rowing, and as my scatterbrained mind works, I got that song “Row row row your boat gently down the streeeeeeam…”stuck in my head. From there, I starting thinking about being on a boat and how much fun that can be. As I left work this morning, I fumbled in my purse for my keys and felt for my keychain in that black hole of a handbag I’ve been meaning to clean out. I finally felt the keychain and pulled it out.
My keychain is a red plastic pull tab from an old life vest.
That keychain is meant to remind me about some great life advice I got from one of my former supervisors at the Secret Service. (Don’t worry. I’m getting somewhere with this.) His advice involved a boat, specifically the Titanic. I will forever wish I could remember the exact words he used and the context in which he used them, but the idea itself has had a big impact on my life.
He said something like this:
If your life ever feels like you’re just rearranging the chairs on the Titanic to stay afloat, then it’s probably time to pull the tab on your life vest and get the hell off the boat. It makes no sense to go down with a sinking ship.
This advice went a long way a few years ago when I had to figuratively “pull the tab” and get out of my life as I knew it. In our own way, most of us know what it’s like to feel like life has gotten out of control like a ship that’s slowly sinking, one catastrophic “iceberg” away from total destruction. The facts remain, though. Even though everything I knew about my life was familiar yet incredibly toxic, it was scarier for me to leave it all than stay on that toxic sinking ship. There’s still risk in bailing on one’s current life, and don’t we all like guarantees of survival? We just don’t always have that guarantee when a big decision is looming.
But once I left my old life behind, I realized I could leave it behind. I really wasn’t stuck like I thought, and I was stronger than I gave myself credit for. No one was coming to rescue me. I needed to make the choices myself. Sure, I was desperate, and that has a way of summoning courage. But I took action, and that was the first step to getting to a safer place.
As I drove home from work today, I realized something: I am more likely to take action NOW than I ever was before. By that I mean I am quicker to check in with myself when things don’t seem right. I’m quicker to speak up and less afraid to make changes. Don’t get me wrong. The fear is still there, but it took a lot of big changes and big decisions for me to realize they’re necessary to progress.
The lesser evil truly is staying put because it’s more comfortable.
Inaction in a critical moment is a choice. Action is also a choice, and knowing when to act versus stay put is nothing anyone could teach me in a book. I needed to experience it myself. I know that now. The nerd in me likes to prepare and have answers.
But sometimes life experience is the only teacher that can educate me about myself.
We use phrases like, “Nothing could have prepared me for what was about to happen.” In reality, my life was already preparing me. Today, I have that reminder on my keychain. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I like reminders (“Selah” tattoos, keychains, etc.). I can’t (and don’t want to) forget to take action in my life. As long as I constantly surround myself with reminders, I feel like I’m better about sensing a rocking boat in my life before it becomes a sinking ship in need of an emergency getaway.
Someone asked me recently if I was happy. I didn’t know how to respond at first but resisted the urge to default to the easy “I don’t know.” I’m happy knowing I’m a better person today than I was a few years ago. I’m impatient with my life though. In my mind, I should be a better woman than I am. I shouldn’t let certain situations or people bother me so much. I thought you were beyond that, I’ll chastise myself. I’m unhappy with how long growth and healing has taken. But I’m still rowing (I mean, moving) forward. There will be more storms along the way that will rock my life’s boat. That’s to be expected.
I’m no sailor, but I’d venture to guess recognizing an approaching storm early allows for adjustments to avoid the worst of it. It’s not all smooth sailing, as they say, but thankfully life is a good teacher with subtle reminders to keep me on track.
And when I screw up along the way again, there’s strength to be found in “pulling the tab” and taking action when it really counts.
Embracing the typos till next Monday,
Mel