Impasse

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood…

~Robert Frost

Thirty days left on my sabbatical and I find myself at an impasse - a stand off with the various futures of myself.  Here in the North Carolina countryside, at most crossroads you will find that the way is very helpfully named after the towns at either end. To get to the nearest grocery store, we go down to Siler City - Snow Camp road and turn right. I wish the choices I face within had such handy labels. It has definitely come time to make some kind of decision. What will I do next?

Certainly one way ahead is a road more traveled. I am good at managing community projects, I can manage grants and write reports, and network well. I could continue to climb the non-profit ladder, doing righteous work and procuring enough money for organic food and vacations to reclaim my Irish and Italian heritage. That seems a very good life.

But these last nine months I have climbed out of some boxes that held me. It took months for my conditioned stress and managerial responses to dissipate. I realized it was bad when I caught myself admonishing Frankie that we were an hour behind schedule to head into town for errands one day. Seriously? Does this really matter? I wondered… What is this really about?

I realized it wasn't actually about anything, rather a habit of my urban working life. It’s hard to imagine putting myself back into the lifestyle that led to that mindset again. Feels like putting my body back into a machine that I know will eat me slowly, but to be fair it would feed me well all the while.

Over the months I have emerged into a whole new territory of life. Everything is uncertain, financially risky and yet I feel quite alive and stronger than ever. The old fears and worries remain with me, but there is also a shy new courage.  But for what exactly? I don’t even know what this other way looks like exactly, I’ve wandered down it and back a bit, but it is too wildly overgrown to see far ahead. I am emboldened, however, to notice that the chickadees keep heading that way.

You will end up alone, disillusioned, broke and there will be no coming back.

They will burn the bridges behind you.

This is the nature of my impasse. Fear and pre-emptive nostalgia for what will be lost if I go one way and not the other.

Synchronicity is one of the gifts that seems to emerge as I open my heart to the universe, in lieu of detailed and well managed plans. A couple weeks ago, for example, at the Shalom leadership training I was given a teaching about impasse. I was already coming to my impasse as March 1^st loomed, beginning the final countdown - thirty days left on this sabbatical.  The pressure and stuckness were with me, but I hadn’t named my situation clearly. Impasse. What a difference it makes - a thing rightly named.

We see it almost every time in the healing work. That moment when something stops the journeyer, pulls us back. We become still, a deep contemplation comes over us – not of the mind, but of the body and heart. It is the place where we hit the edge of who we know ourselves to be, yet feel torn, hearing a faint call, some lost fragment of ourselves beckoning us further.

Do I really go there? Shall I expose this wound to your, my attention? Will it be worth it? It is too painful. I feel as though I might die.

In these moments, our teacher said, it is important not to push, not to let your own excitement or impatience make the decision for them. Name the impasse, give it the time and space it needs.

I’ve seen people living way outside the box, in my travels. I passed through and felt a mixture of desire and judgment, longing and confounded sensibility – How do they make this work?! Impasse.

I admonish myself, it is a privilege even to stand in this question. I fit decently well into the boxes of society. I’m white and middle class. My body is able and matches my gender. I’ve been to university. No mouths depend on me. I should go on, settle down, use will to discipline this wanderlust. Do something my family can understand and respect. Go find a full time job with benefits and a pension plan. Stop moving around so much. Build a wealth that I could share. Buy a house, think of my retirement years so that I do not end up a burden to someone else.

But here is a buried faith emerging, that I'm meant for a different life. Deeper than the choices of where to live and what to do, is the Who am I?

My sister gave me a book that I’ve been devouring this week – a modern reflection on the Bhagavad Gita . Krishna’s teaching is paraphrased - encouragement to find and live by our own dharma, in the truth of our self that goes beyond our self, the divine gift that is our own unique calling. Apparently it should be right under my nose.

So here I will stand, sniffing the air in all directions and ruminating like the cows just over the fence from where I write. I’ll try coaching, structured decision making, counseling, visioning, journaling, reading more about personal dharma, contemplating and praying.

Prayers like,

Great Spirit, I feel as though my whole life has brought me to be standing here today at this impasse, help me to see the proper next step in my journeying.

Amen.

With love to you on your journey,

~ sab

Frankie’s farm, North Carolina