Ever have an idea in your head of how things are supposed to be or how things are supposed to go and the thought of it feels like a weight of impending doom that’s just waiting to crash down on you and break you into a million pieces?

I have. Thinking back over my life I can count quite a few times where the thought of an end result brought feelings of being sick to my stomach and a little bit of vomit into my mouth. Just a result or a direction I didn’t want to go or end up. You can see it play out in your head and you just immediately follow up those thoughts of it with thoughts of avoidance. Almost like drinking a beer chaser to lessen the burn of the whiskey you just unwittingly swallowed.

In this life we take different paths; different choices lead to different endings. Some of those endings are predictable. Endings that result in being neatly packaged in a societal imposed box. The simple task of writing that sentence made me wince. But what is odd about that thought of paths taken leading to certain results being predictable, although uncomfortable for someone who doesn’t like being in a box, it’s also a source of frustration when you realize you’re on a path inside a box with a result you had no interest in being in.

That’s where I was at in my head. Unwittingly on the path inside a box with a known outcome that I had absolutely no interest in ever being a part of. A neatly packaged box with rules and restrictions and expectations, all of which I know I’m not capable of adhering to. It’s not a comforting feeling…that your being propelled in a direction or towards a location you don’t want to go.

Personally, for me, I tend ta fight stuff like that. I am literally the guy in the back when they ask for volunteers, sayin, “Not it!”. To the level that I’ll literally burn every ounce of good in my life to avoid it.

…And today…I was kinda at that point. It’s a wait, what is happening…I didn’t realize this was the train I was on, my bad, I’m getting off…right TF now.

As I sat across from a friend of mine voicing my frustrations and my concern he looked at me an asked me a question that seemed so simple to answer I felt a little embarrassed I hadn’t thought of it. He said, “Who says you have to be in that box? Make your own box”. Make your own box…Why hadn’t I thought of that. Why was I so convinced that my box would end up like every other box?

Somewhere, in the sea of rebellion, the rejection of being told what to do, and the outright disdain of getting in line, somehow my brain decided to subscribe to the belief that my results would be the same. That I would end up in the same place.

…and ending up like my father has been a fear that I have carried and has haunted me all my life. 

I don’t talk about it. It’s not something I tend to volunteer. But it is, by far, my worst fear. And it’s not like my dad was a bad guy or lived a bad life. It’s just a life I’ve never had any interest in living. I’ve literally gone out of my way to avoid it. It’s been a very real, very conscious effort; and anything that has even remotely resembled it I have rejected. That fear has been the driving force behind everything I’ve done.

So when I’ve felt the direction, the pull of my path heading in that direction…it’s not just a panic that I felt inside, but an anger…just pure anger that I had unwittingly put myself in a place of something that I so fervently wanted to avoid. So to hear those words…”Make your own box”…just felt like a lightbulb moment. Kinda so stupid simple it makes me laugh thinking about it…Why didn’t I think of that? 

Well this is new…a new that when I think of it…it’s not repulsive…I don’t taste the bitterness of vomit welling up in the back of my throat. This…I can do this. This is a parameter I can operate in.

…this box is gonna be lit! 

***Pastor Ken, my box is gonna have a stripper pole and a ton of fine trim spinning around on it. I realize that may not have been what you meant…but it is my box!  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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