The Life We’ve Chosen

I can look back at some of the hardest seasons of my life and remember how unfair I thought everything was.

I was frustrated. I was angry. And I could give you a pretty good explanation of who or what was to blame.

My own name wasn’t usually at the top of that list.

Funny how that works.

Now, some of those circumstances really were outside my control. We all experience things we didn’t choose and couldn’t have prevented. I’m not suggesting that every hard season is something we brought on ourselves.

When I’m honest about my own life, some of what I was unhappy with was the result of choices I had made. Sometimes, choices I was continuing to make while wondering why nothing was getting better.

That is a considerably less comfortable thing to admit.

It was easier to talk about what someone else needed to do differently than to look at what I needed to change. But being mad about my circumstances wasn’t doing much to improve them, either.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve tried to get better at asking myself a different question:

What part of this is mine to change?

Not always a fun question. Especially when I already have a perfectly good argument prepared about why someone else is the problem.

Not a fun question; however, it is a useful one.

While I might not be able to change the whole situation, I can usually find something I need to own. The way I reacted. A decision I’ve been putting off. Something I agreed to when I knew I should have said no. An apology I owe and would rather not make.

Those things are mine. And if I keep overlooking them, I’m probably going to keep finding myself frustrated by some of the same things.

That doesn’t mean I suddenly get it all right. I still react poorly sometimes. I still make decisions I wish I had thought through a little longer. And yes, I still occasionally spend more time explaining my behavior than correcting it.

The difference is that I’m more willing to catch myself now.

Sometimes that means admitting, “I didn’t handle that well,” and going back to make it right. Sometimes it means noticing that I keep making the same choice and finally doing something different, even when the familiar choice would be easier.

And I don’t have to wait until tomorrow.

If I catch myself at ten in the morning, I can do something about it at ten-fifteen. There is no rule that says I have to finish out the day being stubborn just because that’s how I started it.

I’m learning that taking responsibility is less about having a big moment of clarity and more about being honest with myself in ordinary moments. Especially the ones when I’d rather point a finger.

I can’t go back and choose differently then; however, I can take an honest look at what I’m choosing now.