Hell Yes

If we're three-legged stools of mind, body, and spirit, I've been a lopsided stool. I've been addicted to the mind. Far more thinking than sensing or feeling. Thirsty for information and ideas. Obsessed with discussion and analysis.

Or so I thought. Or so my mind thought.

It turns out, my mind isn't as large and in-charge as it thought. And that's not just aging or the brain fog of menopause, although I confess that the wheels turn a little slower than they did twenty years ago. It turns out, the powerhouse of my life is my spirit, my soul. Everything big in my life has been driven by something deeper than conscious thought, something more basic. Sometimes something ancient and wise, sometimes something newborn and wounded. From the men I've loved, to becoming a mother, to my career path. My mind has been the clean-up crew, rationalizing the path chosen by that deeper something.

Two years ago today, I quit drinking. Fifteen months ago today, my husband died. A massive heart attack on a random Tuesday.

Why did I quit drinking? I didn't hit rock bottom. I didn't notice any adverse health effects from booze. Nobody in my life had expressed any concern. I drank less than my husband, less than many of my friends. But I had an unexplainable angst about drinking. When I finally quit, it was pure logic (or so I thought). After a deep dive into women's health research, I asked myself two questions; (1) if alcohol is no big deal to me and it's unhealthy, why not quit? and (2) if alcohol is such a big deal to me that I would compromise my health, shouldn't I quit? Switch flipped. No more drinking. My mind was smug. My mind thought it was in charge. My mind didn't realize that it was my spirit's bitch.

I know that my mind didn't see death coming. But I believe my spirit did. My spirit knew that I would need to be crystal clear for my girls, knew that booze would magnify and distort my sorrow. Maybe you're skeptical that my spirit saw death coming. Maybe it's easier if I call it God, or the Universe, or Intuition. And maybe your skepticism is your mind starting to sweat, worried about who's really in charge in your life.

Now I'm not saying that my spirit is always right.

You should meet a few of the men I've chosen. Dead husband not included. Although it did pick the shit out of me when he reorganized the dishwasher after I loaded it. Or when he drove. Or chewed. Or sneezed. But other than that, he was a great choice. But back to the duds. Back to the men who captured my body and soul and left my mind shaking its head. They're living proof that my spirit isn't always right.

But here's the secret sauce for exceptional decision making. Decision making that will end analysis paralysis. Choose the path that has your mind, body, and spirit yelling "Hell yes - I want that" in unison, with wild abandon. Because if your mind thinks something makes perfect sense but it doesn't stir your soul, you'll never have peace. Spirits are the biggest nags when they're unfulfilled. And if that wounded part of your spirit is choosing something or someone that boggles your mind (and has your friends and family staging an intervention), you will suffer. When your mind, body, and spirit are on the same page, it's satisfying and calming and exhilerating. No endless lists of pros and cons required.