Last summer, I made one of the biggest moves in the history of my family when we transplanted our Texas-born children to beautiful Northern Virginia. I used the time of packing/unpacking/painting to get caught up on episodes of Dr. Who.
I have to admit it’s a strange, twisted relationship, me and the Doctor. You see, he’s come to my “aid” during some very difficult times. He’s distracted me from the pain of trials and frustrations. In fact, the reason I watched the first few episodes of Torchwood, a spinoff, was to give myself a break. Dealing with disappointment, disillusionment, and discouragement, (doncha love all those Ds?) I needed a time-out. Away from social media, away from—well, pretty much everything.
As I took time for me and had some invigorating downtime, I came to understand that much of what I’d been feeling was “friendly fire.” Read: self-inflicted. I mean, I’m not sadistic or anything, but I am a dreamer. I have a very good imagination replete with all these wild notions of what life would be like once we made it to Virginia and were no long living apart. And the writing struggles and endeavors—I believed they’d smooth out and calm down so that I could slip into a “normal” rhythm of writing and homeschooling.
Ha! So didn’t happen. In fact, they got worse.
Realizing things were still not as I wanted them, I hurt and grew discontented. Over time, that hurt became a “sore.” The sore festered. Until I’d finally reached a point where I said I was so over it. Everything that happened or that I’d encountered seemed grim or depressing. As I became immersed in the dark thoughts, everything that happened only affirmed my discouragement. And it struck me one morning—I’d been viewing things through my perceptions.
|Dr. Who's Prisoner Zero|
When things don’t go the way we plan. . .we get discouraged. Lose hope. So much so that we tend to lose sight of all the things going right. We get so frustrated we don’t want to accept that this wasn’t the way we were supposed to go; for me as a Christian, perhaps this [insert whatever situation/instance] wasn’t God’s direction for my life. I wanted *my* way, because I had it all planned out.
Another great aspect about the Dr. Who perception filter is this: Once a person became aware of a perception filter and the object it was disguising, they could no longer be affected.
So, that’s my goal. I don’t want to be affected by MY truth of what’s happening, MY idea of how things should go. Yes, I want—need—to have dreams and goals, but I do not want to be so rigid in my thinking, so inflexible, that when I’m sent down another path, I wallow and become discouraged and/or depressed. I want to be transformed. I want to be challenged as a writer, so that those experiences will bring growth and maturity. When things go awry—and again, that’s *my* perception of how they “should” go—I want to be flexible and faithful enough to this amazing gift of writing that I press on. Explore the new avenue and conquer it!