The Cost

Lately, I seem to be obsessed with the cost.

Does anyone else talk to themselves like this?

“I really want to be closer to my friend Sarah.” Says one voice. But the other voice pipes up and says, “But you know there’s a cost associated with that, right? You won’t be able to be as much of yourself. You will have to censor yourself more. You will have to be more available, be more accommodating. You will have to tone it down. You will have to give up your freedom, your priorities and your goals for her. You don’t want to be close to her or anyone else. You can’t be close to someone and still be close to yourself.”

Goddamn that voice is powerful.

“I want to build a home.” Sigh. ” Well, if you invest all your time and money into building a home in this province that you’re not even sure you want to stay in, well, then you’re stuck. You won’t be able to travel, you won’t be as free. And what if something happens to you? How will you pay that off? What if you meet someone who wants you to move in with them? What if you find a great opportunity where you need to move, then you’re too emotionally invested. It’s too risky. Being stable is risky. You will limit your freedom.”

“I really want a boyfriend.” Sure. “Well, if you find someone you really like, that means that you have to be thinking about them all the time. You will have to give up some of the things you love to make room for them. You will have to give up your independence. You will miss out on other exciting men. Your sex life will eventually get so boring. You will stop being who you are. He’ll break your heart eventually.”

“I want to get the fuck out of this job, so I can be more free, make more money and truly spend my time doing things I love. I want to build my future.” The biggest lie of all. Here we go. “What makes you think you are so special to escape this place that thousands of other people can’t? What makes you think you deserve this? If you leave, you will not find income, you will become so lazy and scared. You will not accomplish what you want. People will laugh at you. You will cease to exist. You will be homeless. You will be sick. You will hate yourself and kick yourself wondering why you ever thought you could do something so silly as ‘follow your dreams’. Your mother never did it, so why do you think you can?”

Holy Lord!!! It’s a wonder I get anything done. The last two years, I have let the roar of these voices overcome my desire. I have let the deafening monster that is my fear, shame, self-hatred and doubt overwhelm me. I have become stagnate. I have tried a few times to break out of these patterns, these cycles…but resistance has me by the balls and I have a hard time shaking ’em loose.

The bigger the perceived “cost”, the more my little demons inside my head start yelling furiously at me. How could I even consider doing this to them? All the hard-won battles to be independant and free from control. All the hard-won battles to be in control of my emotions, weight, life, income. Control, control, control. What is the cost of absolute control? Absolute anxiety. Like a wealthy man clinging to a fistful of coins, we cannot ever take our eyes off our nestegg, just in case it disappears.

I am fucking sick of it. I am sick of doubt and questioning having the wheel. I am tired of wondering, analyzing, thinking, planning, looking, and “figuring it out”. Fuck this stupid pile of shit. I am done.

I don’t care if what I want makes sense. I don’t care if what I feel is appropriate. I don’t care if I am successful by the world’s standards. I don’t care if my little demons come to nibble on my brain.

I want to love and be loved with all my heart. And I don’t want to give up who I am to be loved. I want to be loved just as I am.  I want a home and I want to be free to travel and have adventures. I want wealth and I want creative freedom. I want health and I want to be busy doing what I love. I want independence and I want to belong and work co-cooperatively with others. I want to be integrated so fluidly that all of these things make absolute sense to me without conflict.

I don’t care if who I am as a person doesn’t make sense to psychological science. If I am freak for that, then so be it. But I will no longer listen to my fear that tells me the things I love will cost me my soul and my identity. These things are fluid, moving and alive. As Danielle LaPorte says, “Desire will lead you to your soul.”

What’s the cost of that? Nothing, and everything.