I Went into the hills today followed by a bunch of whatifs and shouldhavedones. Some days they don’t leave me alone. It felt as if I went out with a horde of them in tow, they made so much noise they distracted me from looking at the summery happenings around me. “I don’t want you to come with me when I go into the hills. You should have stayed at home.” I told them. “We wanted to come.” they said.
I quickened my pace, which was hard in my wellies. They kept up. I wore wellies because the weather has been crazy lately. It doesn’t know what it’s doing. It’s indecisive. It’s having identity problems. Maybe that fuels the whatifs and shouldhavedones.
The shouldhavedones told me that I ought to have a proper job, that embarking on life as I have done so far was risky at best, idiotic at worst. Shouldhavedones wear designerclothes. I guess they do that to point out the fact that I don’t. The way they speak seems rehearsed, but it isn’t. They’re just that good at speaking. “Why is it inferiority complex? mine is quite simple.”
I joked, trying to distract them. They didn’t laugh.
The whatifs pointed out, list in hand, all the things that could go wrong, backed up with statistics, taking into consideration all the things which had gone wrong in the past and the disastrous effects. I tried to ignore them.
When I arrived at my favorite lookout point in the hills, they were still with me. This annoyed me. They normally tend to give up half way. Now they were blocking my view.
I like my view. I found this particular lookout spot a few years ago, when looking for petroglyphs. I sometimes fall asleep on the rocks, or sit there staring in the distance, entertaining the thought that one of the hills in the distance isn’t a mountain, but a man-made pyramid. That’s s not a strange thought. Word goes that one of the hills nearby isn’t a hill either but man-made, and that there are still remnants of an old fort there. It’s near the priest’s house I wrote about before.
No one messes with my view. So I told the shouldhavedones and whatifs a few things, gave them a piece of my mind. It got a little ugly, I might have sworn. But back off they did.
I walked back with a sense of relief, alone.
The whatifs and shouldhavedones are probably still there in the hills, they’ll be on their way back soon but for now they are silenced, marveling at the view instead.
I like that thought.
Yes, totally agree that you have to silence those whatifs and shouldhavedones at times
🙂
I loved that article. It’s beautifully written and conveys such a lot. You kick those whatifs and shouldhavedones right where it hurts, girl. They are only jealous.
I might take them to a different place next time, they might not find their way back then… x
Sometimes shouldhavedones need a little swearing. Glad you were able to frighten them off.
Thank you for reading Jo x
Beautiful writing about such a real challenge. Keep pushing those what ifs away, it’s so freeing to shred them.
But what if they come back? I should have pushed them away harder 🙂
🙂
Nicely written. And I relate to it completely. A couple of years ago, the beautiful woods around my house were threatened by a new highway that Ministry bureaucrats were planning for. For two years, every day while I walked, all I could think of was the threat to my precious woods. It was awful. Thankfully, the highway is on hold for the time being (we fought it!) and I am once again at peace when I walk.
I love that you left them in the hills to find their own way back! Entertaining and thought-provoking
They’ve just crawled back in asking for coffee.
They can be so loud sometimes! Glad you left them behind. I tend to try to drown them out with the ‘I’m happier this way’, and ‘I don’t want that life’s’. Sometimes works, sometimes doesn’t!
Send those shouldhavedones and whatifs outta here! No comparisons. Comparisons are odious! You are enough. You are worthy. You are always on the right path.
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