We're having some work done in the kitchen. A little stressful with no sink, but mostly exciting as we pick out counter and tile materials. The excitement has triggered an opposing memory of the only other time I've done home remodel...

It was about 1984, and my addictions had me in a death grip. Part of the ugly process of hitting bottom involved the man I would've told you meant everything to me (everything except putting down the needle and being faithful, apparently) who'd decided he could no longer make excuses for my behavior. In hindsight, he was very kind during the painful process of letting go. Instead of kicking me to the curb, he helped me get in to a nice home, which involved some refurbishing. I received way more than I deserved. I knew that on some level, but was devastated by the break up. I distinctly remember sitting in the empty living room with a pile of carpet samples, loaded, crying, not wanting to choose, thinking in some twisted way that if I didn't choose a carpet, then I couldn't move in, and if I couldn't move in, he wouldn't leave. That's not how it worked out.

How many times did I make a decision by not making a decision? Staying in a job longer than it excited me, staying in a relationship longer than was healthy, putting off an action that was clearly called for, or letting others decide for me: waiting for "him" to initiate the breakup, having it "suggested" that my position at work had outgrown me, or going to work miserable everyday thinking that it's me when really it's simply not a good fit... (My big deals are romance or finance - what are yours?).

 A big piece of recovery, of growing up, has been learning to take responsibility for my choices, which can often mean stepping just outside of my comfort zone. A fellow at work has a drawing on his office door: a large circle is marked "comfort zone." A smaller circle, about an inch away is labeled, "where the magic happens." I forget that when I'm scared.

Waiting isn't always bad. Sometimes waiting is a conscious decision. Where that comes up for me today is around retirement. I like my job, but how much longer do I want to work? I crave open space in my schedule, but what if I get bored? What if... what if... what if? As I was once told "If you don't know what to do, don't do anything." I forget that, too, when I'm scared.

Today all is well. There are men in my kitchen installing the new counter. I've had a few days off and am looking forward to catching up at work tomorrow. My dear spouse and I just celebrated our anniversary. Be it about work or anything else, I'll know what I need to know, when I need to know it. In the meantime, I can note the Summer Solstice, greet the tiny tomatoes beginning to show themselves in the garden, spend a few moments in quiet reflection.

Are there places in your life that would be served by making a decision? By waiting?