The Size of My Circle
I think I finally figured something out at 61 years old that probably should have occurred to me somewhere around 30.
Not everything deserves a front-row seat in my life.
Up until recently and for years, I’ve carried things that didn’t belong to me. Friends’ problems. Other people’s bad decisions. Political arguments. Sports losses. Family drama. Complete strangers on the internet who are apparently wrong about everything. And for what?
The Oklahoma City Thunder lose a series, and somehow I’m walking around like I personally missed free throws in the fourth quarter. A friend can’t get their life together after the 472nd piece of advice I have given, and somehow I’m sitting there worrying about it more than they are. Someone disagrees with my political views? Well, imagine that. In a country with over 300 million people, apparently a few of them think differently than I do. Who knew?
The older I get, the more I realize that every one of us lives inside a much smaller space than we think. My space is my marriage. My kids. My grandkids. My family. My home. My peace. That’s my space. Everything outside of that circle gets less and less control over my happiness.
Now, don’t misunderstand me. I can still care. I can listen to a friend. I can offer advice. I can cheer for my team. I can vote. I can have opinions. But 'caring' and 'carrying' are two different things.
Somewhere along the way, I started carrying things that were never mine to carry. I can’t make people make better decisions. I can’t force someone to be happy. I can’t make people agree with me. I can’t fix every problem I see. And honestly? Most of those things wouldn’t change my life anyway. The world keeps turning whether I spend three hours stressing about it or not. I’ve also realized something that feels almost rebellious to admit: I don’t need to feel guilty for being content.
That’s a strange thing, isn’t it?
Sometimes people act like if someone else is struggling, you’re supposed to struggle too. As if happiness is something you should apologize for.
No thank you
I survived the hard years, the broke years, the stressful years, the exhausting years, the “Lord, if one more thing happens…” years. I’m not going to apologize because I’m finally comfortable in the space I’ve created. The truth is, most of us make mountains out of things that never actually climb into our own yard. We borrow trouble. We rehearse disasters. We argue with imaginary people. We carry burdens that belong to somebody else. And then we wonder why we’re tired.
These days, I’m trying something different. If it’s inside my circle, I’ll give it my attention. If it’s outside my circle, I’ll give it perspective. That doesn’t mean I don’t care. It just means I finally understand the difference between caring about something and allowing it to steal my peace.
And honestly?
My peace is starting to feel a lot more valuable than being upset about things I was never in control of in the first place.
No comments:
Post a Comment