Brilliant Quote... One That Actually Makes Sense

I've had an epiphany that I can't really take credit for. Well, I guess I can't even call it an epiphany. It's sort of a revelation-decision-realization-determination thing. The sad thing is that "term" makes complete and utter sense to me right now. Oy.

The quote that brought about the RDRD is written on the white board at the house in Brooklyn where 2 of my favorite people, the wonder turtle, and ocacasionally me and many of my belongings live. It is as follows:

Worry is the misuse of imagination.

Is that not one of the most brilliant, and yet terribly obvious things you've ever seen? If not, then take a moment and ponder it further. I'll wait. Go ahead. Take a sec or two.
......
Alright, now that you've considered it a bit more thoroughly, can you see the depth and brilliance there? Worry is indeed the misuse of imagination. It's the chief way that I misuse my own imagination. I do it all the time. You see, I'm a natural born worrier. I don't mean to be, I certainly don't want to be, and yet - I am.

I worry about the people I love. Will the man be happier when we move and get out of Miami? And will he be able to do the things he wants to do and achieve the goals he's set for himself? Will K have the marriage she wants a year from now... I think she will because it's fabulous now, but what about a year from now? I just want her to be happy. Will J find financial success in acting as she so deserves? Will Jess find her own way and enjoy her time in North Carolina? Will S find a woman who loves her the way she deserves? Will Duke have recurring health problems, or will he be all healed despite his rocky beginnings on his road to recovery? Will H learn to love herself enough to figure herself out and find peace? Will L make a way to heal herself on the inside after a year of ungodly loss? Will my brother be a good student and not drink and smoke his way into oblivion at college? Will my parents have good health in the future? (every time one of them coughs I get a small twinge of nervousness deep down inside - they're both in fine health now, but not particularly physically fit and I get scared that their time is limited. Limited could mean another 30 years and it still wouldn't be enough for me - that's how I know this kind of worry is a bit on the irrational side.)

I could go on, but it would really demonstrate my instability.

I also worry about myself. I worry that I'll let my dreams fizzle. Not die, just fizzle. Fizzle enough to frustrate and sway me. The only reason that would happen is that I'm too afraid to promote myself. And why am I afraid of that? Because I worry about rejection. I worry that I'll put myself out there and people will laugh at me or shoot me down or tell me I'm a no-talent hack. Do I realistically think those things will happen? Not really. But, I worry about them anyway. Like the best of the self-saboteurs, I go through elaborate scenarios in my head about walking into a shop that I'm pitching my line to and... well, it's embarrassing. I go through my whole schpiel about the line and me and my vision and my philosophy on fashion and I pour my heart out and give it my all and yada yada yada and then - - - then the owner looks thoughtfully at me, squinches up her face, and laughs. She laughs the kind of hearty belly laugh that shakes a room. She tells me I can't be serious and that my stuff is crap and that I should try waiting tables like every other wannabe creative type who doesn't have what it takes to make it. This is what goes through my head. It's sick. It's a sick, sick twisted version of a reality that will never be. Why? Because if that ever happened surely I'd take my moment (or nine) and be crushed, I'd probably cry as soon as I walked out the door and be befuddled and swayed for all of half an hour - and then I'd get back on that horse and get my game plan together for the next shop.

Though I know intellectually that I'd never let that get me down (on the off-chance that a rejection of that severely traumatic caliber would happen) I still worry about it. I worry that it would beat me down.

The beauty of today is that the RDRD has occured. I've decided that worrying is the most egregious of misuses for my ridiculously overactive imagination. From here on out I will do my best to let my mind run free with positive scenarios. Possibilities that have a great outcome. End results that make my life richer and fuller, instead of dreaded and scary. I've got to allow for the possibility that my friends will all be OK. That love and safety will find them and that they'll know enough to embrace it when it does. That my family will be fine and they've got lots of time left with me and if something changes that then I'll be strong enough to deal with it. That my dreams are valid and worth pursuing because I do have what it takes to make it. Rejection isn't always a terrifying thing. If it happens (and it will in some form or another) then it's on the next step, the next place, the next possibility.

My imagination is built for better things than worry. Like castles made of chocolate and always-burning fireplaces with full stocks of s'mores making ingredients at the ready in big, mirrored bins. Oh, that's soooo much better.