it hurts to be wrong but it hurts more to do nothing

The moments I have least expected in life usually drove me to one of three places – the gym, a church [of some kind], or the police station. If you don’t know me that list might tell you a lot – so let me explain.

The Gym

The gym is the place I go when all else goes wrong. When I lose someone, something or myself – I run, when I’m anxious or angry – I lift, and when I’m sad, well then I combine the two above and end up in bed for three days with achy muscles.

But what does this say about me?  It says – I hate having a lack of control, I hate being helpless, I hate standing still and there’s no way you can do any of those while holding 100+ pounds over your head.

Church

I don’t need Jesus, but he and I have been known to bro up from time to time. In the past few years, I have rediscovered a connection to something bigger than me – and while I am not fully ready to call it God – I do know that there is something about a beautiful church, about the art, the people, the universality of it that makes me feel small yet infinitely more than I am. [And if that confuses you – good, I am in the same boat.]

The Police Station

Let it be known that I have never been arrested – I do, however, have an uncanny ability to bear witness or be an advocate for those who have victimized. Translation – I know the precinct well but not in a negative way. This obviously has its pros and cons but playing the roles I have – I wouldn’t change that – because I was always where I needed to be.

Like I said, it hurts to be wrong but it hurts more to do nothing. Putting ourselves in situations that make us think is normal. In each of the three places above, I have been more thoughtful than everywhere else. The reason being – these are the best places to think, to go, to digest the things that occur that we least expect.

Putting situations that make us think is normal – but it doesn’t come without regret, it doesn’t come without a doubt.

“did I make the right call?”

“could I have handled that differently?”

“what if he/she was telling the truth?”

“what if I could have saved him?”

Enter the phrase – wrong, do it again.

Growing up when we didn’t do a chore right my mother would look at me and my brother and say, “wrong, do it again.” but sadly life isn’t like chores and neither is loss or the law. When things get hard you cannot always recognize that it is wrong and you certainly can’t do it again – but history repeats and eventually we realize that by continually doing what is right – you won’t regret the decisions you make because you know they are of the best intentions.

In the end, it isn’t about the questions – it is about the places we find the answers and while mine might or might not be ordinary – it is how my mind works, and so far it has benefited my own personal growth.