It's a Trap

I was happily editing a spreadsheet at work, and BAM- suddenly I was hit hard with the very unwelcome realization that my current life is one of the biggest threats I have ever faced. Here I sit, perfectly content, happy and comfortable- in fact, my life has never been better. I’ve never felt so good about waking up every morning and going to sleep every night. The old pressure to escape my situation, the anxiety of struggling, the long, empty, soul-searching days- those are just memories now, replaced by a new sort of fullness. But that fullness suddenly just looks like comfortable occupied-ness. I know that I know this- but I don’t have to admit it to myself. The voice that used to shout and nag me to move on (when I was in less pleasant circumstances) is now just a quiet whisper, a tiny twinge of knowing every now and then- I can do better. I could be more.

The fact that I am hearing this little voice scares me- not because I fear insanity, but because I am happy, and that voice threatens to make me move. I am safe here; I don’t worry about much, my days are busy and enjoyable, and I savor my life in my nice apartment with my steady job and paycheck. For the first time, my life seems stable. Shut up, voice; I like it here.

But I know as well as that voice does that this path doesn't lead anywhere. I've seen the future, and my answer is to close my eyes and look away. I won’t be like that. Yeah, right- how would I avoid it? ‘Safe Zone’ says the sign on my desk- more fitting than I realized. Safety has become a dangerous trap;  it is the only thing that may succeed in stopping me dead in my tracks.

Adventure is out there. OUT there; not in here, where I’m comfortable and safe, happy and entertained. Adventure doesn't come to those who sit comfortably. Adventure requires sacrifice and risk- two things I tend not to seek out.  

I can see clearly the three ‘potential lives’ I might have, and the idea of having to choose tortures me in my quiet moments:

1. The Happy Housewife, raising kids and tending a garden and cleaning our home, taking day trips to the park and the beach, joining mommy-and-me groups, pre-and post-natal yoga, changing diapers and wiping runny noses and baking pies at Christmas- simple and warm, but not particularly exciting or intellectually fulfilling;

2. The Office Lady, typing until arthritis stops me, knowing every detail of my job from having done it a thousand times, with a dusty and well-decorated desk and a worn in area on the floor where I sit, all day, every day, never going further than my chair can roll- safe, happy, and stuck in a well-traveled and un-challenging rut;

3. The Academic Go-Getter, spending my days with my nose buried in books and student loans, broke, fighting the boredom of academia while trying to retain my natural curiosity and learn a few useful tricks for the impending career/grad school search, which will turn into long days applying and then working, hoping to eventually find both a satisfying career and a good salary, and maybe, someday, more time to spend with my kids-oh, wait, I think I meant more time applying for a research grant (who has time for kids?!)- full of potential for accomplishment, and debt, and burn-out.

Right now I’m solidly on path #2; but is that my choice? Or have my paralysis and inability to choose put me here? That’s not how I want to go through life, making the easiest choices so I don’t have to do anything risky or uncomfortable. Or is it?

Sigh.

Afraid to move; afraid to stand still. My time here is limited- I don’t want to die with a life half-lived, having always been too terrified to actually make any decisions. But risks are so hard to take, and comfort is so addicting...