Doing the Work That Matters the Most
Questioning my choices of action and inaction
Photo by Tyler Nix on Unsplash
My mind tends to teeter between past regrets and the potential of the future. It’s easy for me to get tangled.
Vivid mental scenes arise out of seemingly nowhere — moments where I question both my actions and choices of inaction. Like somehow, if I think about it a bit more, I can change what occurred.
At times it feels like a message I’m supposed to pay attention to — a ghost whispering a vital lesson I missed. And yet, when I pause to listen, the result is typically judgment or anxiety.
I should on myself. Should have said something kinder. Should have prioritized my time. Should have saved more money.
This is what happens in my monkey mind, in my lizard brain. Parts of the oldest but not necessarily wisest members of the cranial tribe. They are feisty ones. Making a ruckus and luring me into a rabbit hole, completing the animal farm.
. . .
The future world always holds more grandeur. It’s the fictional land my ego creates where I will be something more than I am today. Anything more. Smarter. Calmer. Richer. Kinder. Thinner. More patient and free. Always more free.
It’s a fun game I play quite often, the future game. In the future is when the work is already done. The stories are written, and the awards are won.
The scariness has passed, because, in the future, the work is in the past.
The work is relentless and daunting — tugging at my every thought. Spinning. Circling. Clouding the reality that all is well. In the commotion, I tend to forget.
Avoidance is frequently my drug of choice. It conjures the elusive future. The thought of being more capable then helps me numb out and cope.
Yet, as Steven Pressfield describes, it’s almost always through “putting my ass where my heart is” that allows the tension to subside. Like magic, freedom arises when I dig in and do the work that matters.
When I can break through the constant internal chatter that I’m not good enough, qualified enough, talented enough, pretty enough — fears which simply aren’t true — I can get down to the business of fulfilling my purpose.
The work is in digging underneath the layers of shame to get where the truth resides.
The work is healing. The work is the doorway to grace.
I find it’s only true 100% of the time.
. . .
In a world overflowing with distractions and busyness, I am learning to be present. It’s a new skill I nurture day by day, sometimes hour by hour.
I forget more often than I’d like to admit and require a nudge back into the presence of now. It’s not easy or comfortable, and yet in the depths of my body, I know this is where true peace resides.
A year ago, I made the intentional choice to drastically simplify my life, yet here I am still wrestling with familiar demons. A dance I know so well.
No matter where you go, there you are.
My opportunity is to enjoy the journey — to relish the ride. To not focus on the phantom destination but bear witness to the process as it unfolds in real time.
Today, may I celebrate progress over perfection. Knowing perfection doesn’t really exist.
In both fleeting moments or drawn-out breaths, how I reflect on my time, choices, actions, and inactions is an act of mercy, for I am the critic, the judge, and the jury.
In the words of the great RBG, “Real change, enduring change, happens one step at a time.”
In times when my mind is frequently remiss, may my heart always remember this simple truth.
. . .
Rebecca Murauskas is a Life Coach for professionals. She helps people be free of stress and overwhelm, reclaim their purpose, and feel fulfilled. Rebecca and her husband, Adam, abandoned their careers and moved to Panamá in 2019 to pursue passions for helping people heal. Take the free Time Saver Quiz and find additional content at RebeccaMurauskas.com.