The Husband described me once as a shark. He meant it as a compliment. According to him (which might mean it’s totally untrue) sharks have to keep moving forward in order to breathe. Like I said, it might be a totally made up fact about sharks, but it makes for a good metaphor and there is nothing The Husband likes more than a good metaphor.
I was pretty proud of that description when The Husband first gave it to me. I have always fancied myself someone who can move on from things like pain and disappointment without allowing them to hinder any growth. For me, life is all about growing and anything that might get in the way of that needs to be faced head on so that it can be dealt with and put away. I make decisions after thorough, but quick research and I don’t look back. I don’t hold grudges. I don’t spend time with regret. I analyze. I learn. I move on. Like a shark, I keep moving forward for fear of losing my breath.
I’ve been pondering lately if I still want to be a shark. I mean, I do appreciate my resiliency and ability to make a life wherever I land after a fall. But lately, I’ve been wondering if I wouldn’t benefit from treading water for a bit; slowing down to notice where I am, feeling things for a little longer and then looking to see whether the direction I’ve chosen as forward is really the correct one. I see no need to go back and dredge up, but there may be something to staying still, or at least swimming in circles long enough to think about a new route.
This all sounds very vague, as if it is hinting toward there being some giant problem to solve. That is not the case. Everything here is pretty solid right now actually. I just stop sometimes and question where I am going and now, while I have no desire to swim backward, I think there may be some benefit to staying still.
I wonder what The Husband knows about sharks breathing when still. Let’s hope his big book of metaphors says what I need.
This post was inspired by the novel The Opposite of Maybe by Maddie Dawson. At the age of 44, Rosie finds herself suddenly single and pregnant. She tries to hide in her grandmother’s home, but meets two men that will change her life forever. Join From Left to Write on April 8 we discuss The Opposite of Maybe. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.