“I’m so confused.”
I hear people say it and I’ve said it myself.
Confusion. Uncertainty. Fog. Swirling.
I have moments of it, usually when I’m down.
I’ve got tools, and usually I can navigate that space far better and far more quickly than I used to.
But I remember and I’ve heard from quite a few of you about that fog of confusion. I see the way it torments you.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“I don’t know which way to turn.”
I have an answer, but you may not like it.
You may not like it because I think confusion is a lie.
Confusion is a lie we tell ourselves when we don’t want to face what is true, or when we don’t want to accept what has happened, or when we have forgotten how to feel what we actually feel or those feelings are too big and scary to experience. So we slip in a tape, we push the repeat on a loop icon, we create a fog of “I don’t know” to protect us.
It feels better to be confused than to be heartbroken.
It feels better to be confused than to be lonely.
It even feels better to be confused than to admit what we really want in a situation and to try to get it.
It feels better to be confused than to be vulnerable.
It feels better to be confused than to be accountable.
It feels better to be confused than to risk committing to a path that might end up in failure.
Confusion is the ultimate tool of the status quo.
Because when we are confused, when we are spinning, when we are sitting in the fog of uncertainty, we are actively changing nothing. Circumstances may shift in response to our inaction, but we’re not changing anything. We’re not responsible for what happens. We’re staying safe in the fog.
It’s just another trick of the mind, the mind that only knows survival and death.
If you’re alive, the mind says that’s good enough. That’s excellent. Let’s stick with that.
And there are times when just being alive is certainly something to celebrate, to venerate, to acknowledge with gratitude.
But our hearts…
Our hearts want so much more than that. They want to love. They want to give and receive and be thrilled and even crushed if that’s the price. Our hearts want to feel other hearts, touch other souls, experience the depth of really living, not just being alive. They want us to have all of the things we can only have if we let go of that fog, if we choose, if we commit, if we act, if we chase dreams and hope for the best.
The comfort that confusion brings is a cold one.
It comes with the pain of sleepless nights and that gnawing sense that there’s something else we should be doing. Confusion comes with the obsessive need to work at the problem while being sure not to ever actually see through it, and endless stalemate between pro and con.
Confusion is a lie.
Maybe it’s time to tell yourself the truth, whatever that it.
Maybe it’s time to feel how you feel.
Maybe it’s time to admit what you want.
Maybe it’s time to speak your truth and just let the consequences unfold.
If it’s too much, you can be confused again any time.
You can make that choice just as easily as you can unmake it.
It’s your story.
Pick up that pen.