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The Slow Transition

06 Jul

NOT ME

I’ve been lying to myself for years. Yesterday though, it knocked on my door so nicely, and I couldn’t deny it. I’ve come to accept who I am as a person, it’s hard, it’s always hard acknowledging something you’ve tried to hide and deny. The time has come, and I hope I’ll be better for it.

“I booked you tickets to Florida for Shabbos,” my husband called to me from the couch. There was light intensity in his pitch, and I knew he wasn’t kidding.

“You what?” I asked like I honestly hadn’t heard what he said.

“You need a vacation, you’re dying to go – I booked tickets?”

“Tickets?” I stressed the “s”.

“Ye, I spoke to Roo today, you’re going with her.”

“But, but, what about you and E, and where we gonna stay, what are we gonna eat, I have to teach…” I started protesting, even though I AM dying to go to Florida. And I ruined it, the whole happiness, surprise and spontaneity. That’s it, I am not a spontaneous person as I had led myself to belive. I like to plan and consider. I like to know my options, know I’m doing what’s best and right for me. I don’t jump into things. I’d rather miss it, lost in consideration, than make a hasty decision.

I always thought I was spontaneous, or I always wanted to be light and free – but I’m not, I’m serious, intense and I think too much. Yes, I would walk to my friends on Shabbos with out calling ahead. But I think that’s where it ends

I cant just get up one day and buy my husband a present. I can get up one day and think I’d like to do that, but it’ll take me a while, to find the right one, the right deal, will he really like. Nike is not for me, I NEVER just do it. I never wanted to be that person, they seem so stuffy and rigid, but I really get thrown for a loop when my schedule changes without ample notice. I try to roll with the punches, but it’s a real effort on my part.

My day is always scheduled and planned in my head, what I plan on doing when, how much time I allot to do certain things, and when emergencies come up – not my emergencies, somehow I handle those, but if someone needs an immediate favor from me, it’s very difficult for me to rearrange things in my head, to realign my expectations of what I planned on doing. Going to Florida is wonderful – not on such short notice it just stresses me out!

I remember yelling at my mother when we would run errands, we’d have a list of things to do and then towards the end she’d remember one more stop she wanted to make. I’d get really agitated. In my head I was ready to go home, I was home already doing everything I planned in my head, and the extra 10 minutes, or even two would upset me.

“You’re messing with my head!” I’d tell my mother. She didn’t really get it, because she quite the opposite of me, drop everything, and do something better that comes along.

I equated spontaneity with happiness, and youth. A careless abandon, and truly living life. That’s how it is in books anyway. And the inflexible scheduled people were stuffy bores with no lives, and ruined everything. No wonder I wanted to be spontaneous.

And when I talk about how I feel, it sounds so much worse and severe and stifling than I feel my life is. I love my life, and I think it’s time to graduate from my dreams and recognize that there are worse things in life than slow to transition.

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3 Comments

Posted by on July 6, 2014 in The Sporadic Side

 

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3 responses to “The Slow Transition

  1. Chay

    July 6, 2014 at 11:32 pm

    I totally get it. I have a less severe “case” than you, but add motherhood to the mix and spontaneity is suddenly overrated!

     
  2. Princess Lea

    July 7, 2014 at 10:15 am

    Dear Lord, we have been separated at birth.

    I don’t do spontaneity. I don’t like surprises, I don’t like last-minute outings, I can’t jump up with alacrity to happily bounce out the door to emergency babysit, because I have booked my day to stare at the wall. Comprende?

    Every moment is plotted and scheduled, to my mind’s satisfaction. The problem is, people think I don’t enjoy myself, and I do. I enjoy it when I have planned and prepared and cared for all the possible variables. Then, at least, there is a chance of enjoyment, as opposed to a crap-shoot.

    Hey, I was the one who analyzed the weather in Israel for days before we left; I was the only one all cozy in my heavier down coat because the country went through an unseasonable cold snap.

    Society judges us planners and plotters as the enemies of fun, but it isn’t fun for me to “hope for the best” without doing any hishtadlus. Because I plan, I am guaranteed a higher chance at enjoyment, because I have rain shoes. Na na na kish kish.

     

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