What If You Tried...and Kept Trying?

Every night when I lay my head on my pillow, my mind replays the day.

Every night when I lay my head on my pillow, my mind plans for the next.

Every night when I lay my head on my pillow, my mind contorts, skews, and distorts.

And yet every night, once my mind’s through playing its wicked games, my heart takes the reins. Like a bedtime story lulls children to sleep, so too does my heart play out a story in my mind’s eye as I slowly drift off.

It’s never the same story twice, but the essence of each remains unchanged: my deepest desires.

We hide our desires in the depths of our hearts because we think they’re safer there. Away from the spotlight. Away from prying eyes. Away from any thing and any one who could taint them. Abuse them. Shatter them beyond repair.

And in doing so, we suffocate them. Depriving them of the air they need to come alive, leaving just enough to survive.

And as such, our deepest desires; our hopes and dreams that we yearn for when no one is watching, judging, or dictating; are morphed into something unrecognizable. Something haunting. Something hollow, cruel, and wicked.

And all we’re left with are the ‘what ifs’ that torment us for the rest of our days.

What if I was good enough? What if I believed in myself, even if no one else did?

What if I had trusted my instincts? What if my vision could have worked?

What if I risked failing? What if I did it even when I felt scared?

What if I allowed myself to feel more fully? What if I was scared of being hurt, rejected, or vulnerable but I still dared to put myself out there?

What if it wasn’t as unrealistic, unreasonable, and improbable as I’d convinced myself it would be? What if it could have been successful?

What if it could have been more than I ever could imagine?

How ruthless.

I’ve seen — and felt — just how unspeakably heavy the weight of regret is to carry. Especially when it’s an entire lifetime’s worth of how you could’ve been and done better.

Could you have put pride aside for the sake of preserving certain relationships?

Would it have been possible to mend what you thought was broken beyond repair?

Were some sacrifices worth it or was the cost too high but you realized that too late?

Is there such a thing as ‘too late’?

I don’t think so. I don’t think it’s ever too late. It is, after all, better late than never.

In certain situations, sooner rather than later is ideal, but I could make the argument that our need for instant gratification taints the purity of an experience.

Our need for instant gratification forces us into a seat of controlling, forcing, rushing; of doing our utmost to orchestrate all the uncertainties to get what we want, when we want it.

But life rarely ever goes according to plan, least of all when we don’t know what we don’t know. We don’t know all the different variables at play. We don’t know the extent of what is — or isn’t — predictable, controllable, certain, and guaranteed. And yet, we delude ourselves into believing that it’s now or never?

Talk about setting yourself up for disappointment.

But maybe we want to feel disappointed. Maybe we want for things to not work out in our favour because at least then, we have the stone-cold proof we need to justify protecting ourselves. To justify locking away our desires, hopes, and dreams and throwing away the key.

Or maybe, disappointment allows you to course correct — to adjust your mindset.

I’m only human so whenever I desire something and it doesn’t work out right here and right now, disappointment sets in. I feel sad. I take it personally and intrusive thoughts creep in. I convince myself that if it were for me, then I would have it. And the fact that I don’t means I’m falling short; that I did something wrong or could’ve done or been better. I feel unworthy, insecure, scared. I become consumed with a ‘black or white’ perception as a way of riding the emotional waves. I spiral and that’s my initial reaction. But then my rational mind steps in to respond. Because what if the version of me right now isn’t the version of me capable of handling the thing I want? Or preserving its integrity? Or honouring it properly? What if there’s a better version of it ahead for me and I’m mourning something that wasn’t mine to begin with?

Let’s say you wake up one day and decide you want to squat 100kgs. Realistically, if you haven’t trained for it and walk into the gym with that goal in mind, the process of loading the weights will exhaust you. That goal is not yours for the taking — yet. Because the version of you in this moment does not have what it takes to safely and properly squat 100kgs. But with time and training, you build up the strength you’d need. You become the person you need to be to be able to squat the 100kgs. And in that process of becoming you thank your lucky stars that you did not carry that loaded bar on that first day because you would’ve likely injured yourself very badly. But it’s only in hindsight that you come to realize this.

Not right now. Not like this. This or better.

I’m only human so I often fall into the trap of instant gratification. And when I do, rather than endlessly spiral, I’d rather soothe. In the words of Abraham Hicks, “soothing is solving”.

Not right now — because a seed blossoms when the conditions are right.

Not like this — because you need to trust the process of becoming.

This or better — because the universe conspires in your favour.

And when I switch out the ‘black or white’ for this, I feel lighter. I feel more expansive, taken care of, and aligned.

I feel like the world is filled with infinite possibilities.

I believe in a world of infinite possibilities.

“As you start to walk on the way, the way appears.” — Rumi

And so, rather than being haunted by endless ‘what ifs’, take a step in the direction of delayed gratification. Of having a desire, hope, dream for yourself and taking the aligned actions towards it, even if takes a moment to be within grasp.

It’s never too late to take one small leap of faith after another.