The World is My Oyster (Or Is It?)

I remember that morning very clearly, the day of my masters graduation. I went for a jog in the crisp clear air, and as my feet hit the pavement of my oh, so familiar route, I thought, “The world is my oyster. I can do anything.” I felt a sense of freedom that day, a sense of exhilaration, a sense of anticipation. Little did I know that my decision to pursue counseling licensure in Arizona would require nine months of back and forth correspondence with the state counseling board, or that finding a job and community in Arizona would be so hard or so time-consuming.

But here I am, two and a half years later, living in Arizona, working as a counselor. As 2019 has begun, I see many open days before me. I know that I can fill the pages of this book of my year as I choose, but I also realize that my time and energy are limited. I can do anything, but I can't do everything.

I enjoy fitness, but it isn't my life. Besides physical therapy, I basically have 30 minutes a day to commit to exercise. That means I can choose weights or cardio, but not both. I have to choose what is more important. I just don't have time or energy to throw around the weights and hit the streets for my preferred three mile plus runs.

I've finally gotten to the point where I'm getting more invitations to do social things, but I just don't have time for all of them. Sometimes, I need to stretch and expand my horizons by hanging out with new people and doing new things. Other times, I need to say, “No,” in order to focus on investing more deeply in the relationships that are most important to me.

Work presents dozens of opportunities for training and learning, and frankly, just more hours, but I need to decide what I'm called to do and what I'm not. Work is a big part of my world, but not my entire world. I don't want it to become all-consuming.

I have numerous hobbies and activities I'd like to do in my spare time, but there just isn't always time for everything. I need to rest, too.

So the world is my oyster, but it's also not. Many opportunities lie before me, but I have the responsibility to choose which ones to crack into, and which ones not. I have to choose where to mine for beauty, and what mines to let others tend to. Life is beautiful, but I miss the fullness of that beauty if I never stop to appreciate it.

May God give me wisdom as I anticipate the days ahead and traverse with him the sands, waves, and seashores of this life.