Sacrificial lamb

I woke up this morning still tired and decided to stop fighting the potentially inevitable. So much of my energy has been routed into spinning my tires against what I dread could happen. So much of my focus is spent on ensuring it won’t. It’s a fool’s errand, it would happen anyway and I will have depleted myself. It’s too unsustainable a way to live. So I find myself, once again, seeking some kind of faith.

Isn’t this what I read? You have to sacrifice yourself to the situation. But surrender too often feels like treason. I could just as easily be walking myself into a firing squad as I could into my destiny. It goes against everything in my nature to let it go, which is a rich irony, because everything in my nature screams for the opportunity. The painfully sweet cognitive dissonance of being human is that we can never quite figure out how to do it.

I guess I’ll never understand why we think so much about the ending when we’ve hardly begun. Seems like an easy way to let confirmation bias choose your fate. The truth is, we have these little choices to make everyday. And sometimes they’re the difference between something wonderful and what we always expected. So I won’t fight what may come, I won’t fill in my own blanks. Somehow, I’ll find some way to hand myself over without conditions, and hope for the best.

I am happy with my lot. Perhaps that’s the only thing worth another thought.

*authored in February 2021

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