Navigating relationships.
I'm a planner. An organizer. I rarely leave things up to chance and prefer structure and details over "going with the flow" and "letting things be". I'm more of an anticipator than a participator, Type A all the way, and in the world of Myers-Briggs, I'm an extreme J. This works to my favor professionally but hardly ever in my personal relationships.
None of us can plan when someone enters our lives, how long they'll stay, or how they leave it. I've been fortunate to have many chapters in my life and looking back on several of them, I could have never predicted who the supporting cast would be and which of those characters would have moved on with me to new chapters and new adventures while others remained behind.
Relationships require investments. Investments in time, investments in energy, investments in care. Any relationship worth caring about should be grounded in mutual respect, honesty, and authenticity. And if it's a relationship you hope will go the distance, vulnerability is a necessary ingredient as well. And when a relationship has more or less run its course, it can leave you with a feeling of contentedness or regret. Investment will do that to you. For me, accepting that fact that some relationships have run their course is a hard pill to swallow. One I struggle to make sense of at times. Sometimes a necessity, sometimes a product of circumstance.
As a planner, I map out my relationships to the best of my ability through these investments hoping what I've invested will be returned. Because who likes being in a relationship where all you do is give and all someone else does is take? Nobody. But no matter how hard you plan or how much you invest, sometimes you wake up with the realization that the relationship is over. Maybe it was someone's fault. Maybe it was no one's fault. Circumstances may have dictated you moved on to a new chapter and that relationship didn't move with you. Maybe things just didn't work out. Or maybe you realized that someone else stopped caring. And then you did too.
But relationships are rarely clean. They're messy. They are messy because they are filled with emotion and feeling, happiness and pain, joy and sorrow. The best relationships are the ones where your soul can be filled with laughter by another's story or the times where you can be held when you are rolling in the deep. When you can sit in silence with another person and know their thoughts and understand their feelings.
If you gave me the option to paint with a brush or with my fingers, I'll choose the brush 9 times out of 10. Professionally, it's a 10 every time. But when you're talking about relationships, there is no brush. You have to dig into the paint with your fingers and not be afraid to mix colors and spill a little on your clothes. The planner in me wants to ask first if the paint is washable or permanent so I can map out how long it'll take me to get it off and what steps I have to take to do it but in the end, does it really matter? You have to be willing to take a risk. If you're more concerned about how you'll wash the paint off your fingers, it's already a relationship in which you'll never fully invest. Doomed from the start.
I've learned a lot from my relationships in life and the people with whom I choose to surround myself. I've learned that participating in a relationship greatly outweighs anticipating what will happen with the relationship. I've learned worrying about planning and making sure a relationship is clean only creates unnecessary anxiety. Most of all, I've learned if I spend all my time trying to fit my relationships into nice, pretty boxes with bows and ribbons, I'm missing out on experiences, adventures, and truly living. Sure, sometimes I look back and wish I would have chosen the brush. Less messy. But also less real. Finger paint it is.
Cheers.
Relationships can't be planned.
Regardless of whether we are talking about a friendship or a partner, I can't plan or organize a relationship in the way I can my day or week. I can schedule hang outs and dates and activities to enjoy but I can't exactly plan or map out where the relationship will go. I can't color code a relationship and assign it a particular theme. Will a random acquaintance become a friend? Will a friend become a best friend? Will the guy you hardly knew become the guy you map out your future with?None of us can plan when someone enters our lives, how long they'll stay, or how they leave it. I've been fortunate to have many chapters in my life and looking back on several of them, I could have never predicted who the supporting cast would be and which of those characters would have moved on with me to new chapters and new adventures while others remained behind.
Relationships require investments. Investments in time, investments in energy, investments in care. Any relationship worth caring about should be grounded in mutual respect, honesty, and authenticity. And if it's a relationship you hope will go the distance, vulnerability is a necessary ingredient as well. And when a relationship has more or less run its course, it can leave you with a feeling of contentedness or regret. Investment will do that to you. For me, accepting that fact that some relationships have run their course is a hard pill to swallow. One I struggle to make sense of at times. Sometimes a necessity, sometimes a product of circumstance.
As a planner, I map out my relationships to the best of my ability through these investments hoping what I've invested will be returned. Because who likes being in a relationship where all you do is give and all someone else does is take? Nobody. But no matter how hard you plan or how much you invest, sometimes you wake up with the realization that the relationship is over. Maybe it was someone's fault. Maybe it was no one's fault. Circumstances may have dictated you moved on to a new chapter and that relationship didn't move with you. Maybe things just didn't work out. Or maybe you realized that someone else stopped caring. And then you did too.
Relationships are messy.
Cleaning my room as a kid was never a punishment or chore. I relished it. Nothing brings me more satisfaction as an adult than having a clean home. Bed made, floors swept, dishes washed, rugs vacuumed, bathroom shined, furniture dusted, and the list goes on. What I love about a clean house is you can not only see it, you can smell it. Freshness. And few things beat a clean home in my opinion.But relationships are rarely clean. They're messy. They are messy because they are filled with emotion and feeling, happiness and pain, joy and sorrow. The best relationships are the ones where your soul can be filled with laughter by another's story or the times where you can be held when you are rolling in the deep. When you can sit in silence with another person and know their thoughts and understand their feelings.
If you gave me the option to paint with a brush or with my fingers, I'll choose the brush 9 times out of 10. Professionally, it's a 10 every time. But when you're talking about relationships, there is no brush. You have to dig into the paint with your fingers and not be afraid to mix colors and spill a little on your clothes. The planner in me wants to ask first if the paint is washable or permanent so I can map out how long it'll take me to get it off and what steps I have to take to do it but in the end, does it really matter? You have to be willing to take a risk. If you're more concerned about how you'll wash the paint off your fingers, it's already a relationship in which you'll never fully invest. Doomed from the start.
I've learned a lot from my relationships in life and the people with whom I choose to surround myself. I've learned that participating in a relationship greatly outweighs anticipating what will happen with the relationship. I've learned worrying about planning and making sure a relationship is clean only creates unnecessary anxiety. Most of all, I've learned if I spend all my time trying to fit my relationships into nice, pretty boxes with bows and ribbons, I'm missing out on experiences, adventures, and truly living. Sure, sometimes I look back and wish I would have chosen the brush. Less messy. But also less real. Finger paint it is.
Cheers.
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