When I was little I amassed an impressive collection of “Nevers.”
“I’ll never eat that.
I’ll never be 5’10 like my doctor said.
I’ll never see without the need for glasses.
I’ll never be a blonde (at least naturally).
No matter how much hairspray I use, I’ll never get my hair to stand as high as the popular girls in school.”
As I got older, the nevers grew too.
“I’ll never be a doctor.
I’ll never be a millionaire.
I’ll never publish a book.
I’ll never travel to a foreign country.
I’ll never have kids/get married/son/daughter.”
The nevers were piling up so high it overshadowed all the unexpected things that did happen.
Never created a false sense of control. Sure there was some things I would never do by fault of destiny, but there were things I didn’t know. I couldn’t predict all the lovely things that happened in my life while I was stewing over never. But that’s the magical thing about it because the future gets to be this unknown place with lots of what-ifs and maybes.
And there was something else.
Never was freeing.
In a talk at Wanderlust Oahu, author Elizabeth Gilbert gave us permission to, “Never have to do _____ ” ever again.
You never have to go through labor again.
You never have to go through that divorce again.
You never have to work at that place again.
You never have to measure your worth on a scale, social media likes and your income.
So I said goodbye to never, for right now.
I had a lot left to learn.
Sure there were things I would never do and I would grieve for that. But I always knew that giving up those nevers would free me for the nevers I’d never have to do. And for the things I never expected.
These days, never is a dear friend. It comes out when I’m scared as in, “I’m never going to be illness free,” and I get to say, “Maybe. Maybe not.” But here’s one thing I know, “You never really know and for the things you do know for sure, like you’ll never grow suddenly or have the kind of family you wanted, it’s ok because there’s a whole lot of other gifts left to open the future and even right now in the present.
Never narrows your field. But gratitude opens it.
You can take never and use it.
You can exchange the nevers you’re sad about and turn into the nevers you’ll never have to experience.
And you can remember there’s more out there than the tiny view that never shows us.
There’s hope. There’s sometimes. There’s maybe. There’s not right now.
Is it that amazing?
I think so too.
Wishing you a week full of maybes and you never knows.
