As someone who has spent a long time thinking things will be better just as soon as I (insert green grass here), asking myself “then what?” has become pretty freaking important. Actually it sounds more like “yeah but… then what?” What happens after I get the thing that I (think I) want? In the past, it might have gone like this: I decide I want something, get just a *teensy* bit obsessed with that thing, and put my head down to try and make it happen.
Hahaha. Um, no. That makes me sound hyper goal-oriented, which is something I’ve never been. Okay, so maybe that’s what other people do when they decide they want something. I’m far more likely to put my head up. Like, in the clouds. So I’d start daydreaming and imagining my new glowy, effervescent life. You know, the way it will certainly be just as soon as I get this glorious thing that I want.
That may sound like the same thing as asking then what because of the future focus. Except I wouldn’t go about the visualization at all objectively. The thing about the fairytale is that not only would I imagine my life looking different, but I’d usually be way different. Either more social or cheerful or passionate. (Or maybe, like, I don’t know, say stunningly beautiful.)
Whatever. And making these changes to my inner self is awesome if that’s what I really want. Except I always went about it backwards. I thought changing the outer circumstances of my life would change the inner me. Automatically. Kind of like my former standby: as soon as I’m thin, then I’ll be carefree.
It just doesn’t work this way. White-knuckling your way to weight loss means you’ll need a kung fu grip on whatever diet got you there in the first place. Whereas if the goal is to be carefree, learning to be carefree (and peaceful, calm, relaxed, nicer to yourself) makes the weight loss part just short of cinchy.
So most of my former glowy daydreams were based purely on flimsy wishful thinking. And on some level I must have been aware of this because as I approached the object of my affection, I’d usually panic and throw in a little self-sabotage. Just to keep things interesting. And because, you know, I love a challenge.
So in the weight example, my jeans might start getting a little baggy. But the fact that I was starving myself meant I didn’t feel all that carefree. Imagine that. And since achieving the phantom goal (super sveltness) didn’t bring about the inner change I really wanted (carefree bliss), I’d put the desire up on a shelf (read: scarf m&m’s) to avoid the disappointment of not feeling the way I’d hoped.
What does this have to do with figuring out the then what anyway? I guess after a lifetime of this pattern, I have plenty to say. So hopefully next time might actually have something, I don’t know, useful.
