Pardon the Introspection; Also, Omen Alert (Maybe?)

Last week I saw someone I hadn't seen in over three years (maybe four?) and after we caught up for a bit, she mentioned that I seemed the most calm and relaxed she'd ever seen me.  I thought about it and realized she's probably right. 

I've written before about my tendency toward anxiety (this is just one of many examples), but in the past six months or so, I haven't had much anxiety at all.  I haven't been waking up in the middle of the night, my nerves jangling about something I might have forgotten to do at work or about how someone might be about to bust our door down and kill us all.  I'm as much of an overthinker as I've ever been, but The Spiral of Terror -- in which even the most minor act or omission is, to my mind, going to set off a chain of events that ends with me being alone and penniless, shunned and humiliated -- is pretty much gone from my psyche. 

I think the reason for this is that Something Terrible has now happened to me, and I survived.  Not only did I worry about all the wrong things before the bad thing happened, but I came through the Unthinkable Adoption Scenario and, hey, I'm still standing.  Still functioning, even.  And, in fact, still living with (oh, God, I'm going to say it -- I've officially gone Oprah on y'all; send help) a great capacity for joy (ACK). 

Yes, part of it is that, you know, Joe and I are still alive and we have our families and friends and no one's dying of a rare disease or anything.  Life could be so much worse -- SO much worse -- than having our adoption dream shatter into a zillion pieces and having to live with an empty nursery.  Which isn't to minimize our pain, because trust me, there's plenty of pain (would you like some?  I think I can spare it!), and it isn't to say that you're only allowed to grieve in relative terms.  No.  What happened to us was horrid and excruciating and on par with plenty of other horrid, excruciating things.  But it could have been worse, and here we are.  Still here.

Where was I going with this?  Right, so: my anxiety seems to have dissipated because no amount of hyperventilating about what could go wrong was able to prepare me for what DID go wrong (let alone prevent it from happening).  All of that energy was misspent and could have been directed toward something more productive, like all of the other highly useful things I do with my life (ho HO!).  Or just, you know, NOT being consumed with terror by eventualities that would never come to pass.   

It's also possible, looking at this from another angle, that I'm a little beaten down by the Universe.  Not hopeless or depressed, but tired.  Ever so tired.  I get it that I'm not in control and never have been.  I get it that things don't always go according to my own plans.  I get it that I can't make things happen with the power of my own thoughts (except maybe keeping planes aloft, because I've been pretty successful at that thus far in life).  I GET IT.  Lesson learned.  I'll just sit here with my open mind, malleable as clay, and wait for the next big thing to happen.  Not that I've become totally passive; I'm still trying to accomplish things and to make my life what I want it to be.  But I'm doing that without all the extra energy spent on holding onto a desired result with a vice-like grip.  It's too exhausting and, as it turns out, it doesn't work.  (Surprising, right? I know.)

In sum:  Things happen.  Sometimes they are awful things.  And you deal with it.  Other times, very good things happen, and you deal with that, too.  And most of the time, life is a blend of all of the above, and you roll with it.  All the anxiety in the world isn't going to change any of that. 

What a concept. 

On a completely random note, this morning I came back from a run and there was a crow (or...raven? or blackbird? is there even a difference? (ornithology FAIL)) right in front of our building's entrance.  It looked like it was guarding the front door; it was just standing there on the sidewalk, staring -- rather hostilely, I might add -- at me.  I couldn't get to the door without stepping over it, and if I'd pushed the door open, it could have followed me into the vestibule (and PECKED MY FACE OFF).  It hopped around a little, and seemed fairly enamored of its reflection in the brass kickplate at the base of the door, but I sensed a certain malevolence about it.  Though I could have been making unfair assumptions; maybe it just wanted to visit someone in the building, or perhaps to check out the one-bedroom apartment that's currently available on the third floor.   

I tried to act casual, but of course I was wondering whether (a) this was an omen of some kind (aren't ravens an omen? or is that blackbirds?  or...crows?) and/or (b) the bird was plotting my untimely demise (not that I was ANXIOUS about it, given my new no-anxiety policy, but dude: WEIRD BIRD BLOCKING DOOR, EYEING FACE HUNGRILY).  Finally, it hopped over toward a planter and I hurried inside, taking care to pull the door shut behind me.   

So that was odd.  But hey, at least if it turns out to have been an omen and a cinder block falls on my head tomorrow or I faint into the path of an oncoming subway train, I won't have spent my last few months doing nothing but worrying!

Comments

[nonsoccermom]

I can see how surviving a Horrible Thing could make you less anxious overall. I'm not a worrier by nature, but that completely makes sense. I just wish no one had to go through Horrible Things to get there. I'm so sorry about everything you and Joe have been through.

As for your bird, GAH. I'm generally freaked out by birds anyway, and when they make eye contact - forget it. I'm out.

[Swistle]

Wait wait wait. Anxiety DOESN'T help? Aw DANG IT. Now I have to start ALL OVER.

[jjm]

Not that I am encouraging worry by any stretch, but I was once viciously attacked by a crazy black bird of unknown variety. It flew into my head and landed in my hair as I was walking into work after lunch and preceded to go insane pecking on my head. There was blood. And screaming. And crazy running about and whacking of my head with my planner and purse. And cackling from the dudes having lunch on the 3rd floor office balcony. And did I mention the screaming? I've never looked at birds the same way since.

[amandam]

I'll bet it was a crow - we have them drop by here (UES) and hang out in the tree behind our apartment. And they are bold and very intelligent, too. I'm not very in the know about omens but I seem to recall something from Celtic mythology about crows being harbingers of change - symbolizing the "death" of something to give way to the "birth" of something new. And hey, Change Is Good! :)

[kirida]

I'm with Swistle. If I don't have anxiety to push me through life, I AM LOST. I hope to find that kind of zen you have.

[kathy]

On the symbolism of crows:CROW - integrity and doing unto others as we would like them to do to us. Crow teaches us to know ourselves beyond the limitations of one-dimensional thinking and laws. It is about bringing magic into our lives. This animal teaches to appreciate the many dimensions both of reality and ourselves, and to learn to trust our intuition and personal integrity. There is magic wherever crows are. They give us the message that there is magic alive in our world and this magic is ours to use and create a new world for ourselves with.

[Dianna]

I think you should go with what Kathy says, if only to dispel the horrible bird-pecking image from Jess and give you courage to leave your building again :)

[beyond]

great great post.
seems like you'll never need my services now... :)

[Christina]

Did the Raven say "Nevermore?" I swear our giant crows do... (and those things freak me out. If one was standing between me and the door? I'd go for a walk.)

Totally hear you on the unproductive worry thing. Like I just read somewhere, "life is as fun as you make it." (Except of course, sometimes life is decidely UNFUN and it is absolutely NOT of my doing. But still, a good motto overall, I think.)

[H]

I admire your perspective and hope one day I can transform my worrying into something more calm. It seems that when something really bad happens to me, I think it validates that worry is necessary. Ugh.

[Lina]

I totally relate to your tendancies to worry about things...I worry about thing that are beyond my control way too much. In the end the worry makes no difference, so trying to let go of that is hard.

As for the bird - FREAKY! Especially after reading the comment about one attacking. Just what a worrier needs, huh? :)