The Year of Magical Dreaming

Borderline Batshit: The fine line between crazy and “normal”

I was checking in with an old client last week. Our program together had just finished in the spring and it seemed like each week she received one wrecking ball of news after another: she was being downsized at work, her dad passed away, she broke up with her guy.

It was clearly one of those divine storm seasons of her life where literally EVERYTHING was about to change.

In our work together, I kept her focused on the positive, on the opportunities ahead, rather than the losses, while still making time to grieve and process. I wouldn’t allow her to check into the ever consuming Victim Hotel (a place I know all too well!)

When we last spoke, she was at this precipice. She’d just interviewed with a company that could very well be described as her dream job, but if she didn’t get it … all bets could be off for staying in NYC.

I was hopeful. I’m still waiting to hear back, actually.

But in the meantime, it got me thinking.

One decision. Completely out of her hands. Could make OR BREAK her outlook right now.

Life could either be a friendly universe or a cold one.

I have been pondering just how often we walk this thin line of trust and mistrust with the powers that be.

It’s no wonder we’re all borderline batshit.

Which reminds me, I had this great conversation with a friend last week where she revealed that she really kinda likes her crazy. I laughed with that full body I totally get it. Mine is always looming in the back of my mind waiting for even the slightest window of doubt, AND boom! Crazytown we go!!

I used to love the joyrides through crazytown. I’d stay and hang out a while with all the familiar faces. Throwing a few too many back, one “eff it!” at a time. We all stood fearless behind a “life sucks and then you die” facade. It was charming in a way.

Even still I keep my eye on that border of crazytown. I’m not stupid. At any flip of a switch, I could get called back in. It’s where all the “cool kids” hang out, anyway. All the artists. The loners. The dreamers. Or so it seems. That’s the lure, at least.

Going back to my client, her precipice. Our entire lives are seemingly built on these tiny fragile decisions, the hay of the foundation where at any moment a Big Bad Wolf could come in and scorch it.

It really is no wonder we’re all borderline batshit.

If we’re not crazy, what are we then: normal? What is “normal” exactly, anyway?

I remember begging and begging to “be normal” as a kid.

Now, that sounds so entirely boring: normal.

My new normal however is to be just crazy enough to believe in a kind universe. I’m crazy enough to believe that no matter which turn I make or what decision is bestowed upon me that several paths will lead to where I’m heading. I’m crazy enough to believe that dreams do come true. And I’m just the right amount of crazy to keep trying.

I’m crazy enough to trust in the circumstances, to leave all big matters “to the universe,” to let go that which I have no control. I’m crazy enough to leap when I’m scared and sit still when I’m anxious, to laugh when I’m in pain and cry when I’m happy.

As for my client, the precipice, no matter what happens–I hope she takes it or leaves it with that kind of crazy thinking;)

I leave you with this: When do you recall a time where one decision changed everything? Who might you be otherwise?


Much Love,