Let’s be honest…
The high road is not known for being fun and flashy.
It’s dusty and less traveled enough to not even have a speed limit.
There is no “entrance high” when ramping onto the high road. If we got the same kick out of taking the high road than we do taking the Loop around Austin, more people would gladly choose it. Most times there isn’t even a buzz 100 miles into the journey. It usually comes much later, when looking back and understanding the sanity and peace of traveling this dumb road. More importantly, the necessity of the LESSON which ended you up on the highish road.
Truthfully, most times I’d rather just take the Middle Road. Where you can at least get by with a clever snapback. Because man, there are some good ones for all the Karens and Janets.
I’ve found myself more times in the swamp. Not being able to quiet that sharp tongue. Which never ends up feeling good. It’s like missing the exit for the Loop and getting stuck in the muck of traffic, downtown Austin. When everything is blurted and off your chest, you think you’ll be free as a lark, instead you feel as low as a toad.
That being said, I don’t know which road this essay puts me on. I’m aiming for a higher one. My hope is to share a little in hopes to help gracefully release some old tie downs that could be holding us back.
Next to the trinity of my Maker, my husband and boys – extended family and friendships mean everything to me. Every single thing. Until they threaten the 5 things in front of them.
I have created some sturdy boundaries, built through the years which have strengthened me to release some relationships that aren’t healthy for my family or our peace.
When one continues to speak poorly about your family or children…release them. It only seems reasonable to recognize their Exit sign. According to their choices, they chose to sit in an Exit row, accepted the guidelines from the cute flight attendant (think 1980s stewardess here) when moving to that seat, and therefore pulled their own cord to exit your airplane. Bless them as they float away.
One can quietly honor the duration of a relationship, including the sharing that happened within it, and 100% be walking yourself and family back to your own bubble of peace, sanity and home. Even when we are mentally on an airplane where you can’t control the roster or seating arrangement, we can close our eyes and visualize yourself walking back to 1st class, and pulling the curtain closed behind you. Like in the movie Bridesmaids, some of the noisy ones are in coach – ready to par-tay with your emotions and life when you just desperately need silence, peace, air pods, and maybe a glass of wine.
Even when others won’t take themselves on a road a little higher, YOU can. I’d like to think it’s possible that when we choose the elevated path, we can silently wish the person who put you on it would go climb a really tall and really thick cactus. I haven’t confirmed this, but feel God might overlook the later because of the earlier? I don’t know, maybe do your own prayer time on that.
Brene Brown tells us that when we are nervous, we always revert back to our highest level of training. I think this also works with emotional training. If we are in the habit of choosing our prayers, our words, our friends, our actions, our habits, and our surroundings wisely…we can slowly create a solid character that wouldn’t dream of taking any other path.
Wouldn’t it be nice to always travel the speedy loop? To stay grounded and pay attention to the exits given which lead us to those highish paths. They aren’t always the easiest, but they always end up bringing the most peace. Always. I wish that peace for you friend.
*In complete transparency…
This essay was written a long while ago. It was snappy, written in the weeds of hurt feelings and anger. It was written because I had begrudgingly ended up on the high road. I wanted off of it, and this essay was my ticket. A friend encouraged me to sit on it because she thought I was better than that. Or perhaps hoped me to be? After rolling my eyes and presenting a strong argument that I definitely was not better… I relented. I sat on it, occasionally going back to remove a sharp elbow, one at a time. A dagger here, a swift kick there – all sad feelings processed individually and worked through. Until eventually, I didn’t feel anger or sadness when reading it. Just resolve wrapped in peace.
**Photo by my crazy talented friend Gary Richardson