Behaviours

It occurred to me this morning that any change in behaviour involves tipping of the scales.  Always there is a weighing up of options.
If current behaviour ticks all the boxes for someone, and it is thought to be worth it, then there is guaranteed to be no change.  If, on the other hand, someone thinks this is just not good enough and want what is available more than they currently have, there is often a casting away of what impedes.
It has been like that for me anyway.  In my case I am reminded of a ship lightening its load.  Containers can contain good things.  Thing that in themselves people would keep.  Yet for my purposes they may do nothing but weigh me down.
I want to keep what is necessary and useful, but only I can determine what those things are for me.  It may be all about making me a lean, not so mean, fighting machine.
It is weird how some things are remembered in movies.  I do remember in Labyrinth David Bowie suggesting he needed certain things for his journey.  In the end it was a huge amount that weighed him down and impeded his progress.  The same in the movie “The Jerk.”  The character Steve Martin played lost everything.  He said he did not need anything but decided he needed a lamp and things that were not useful at all.
It all reinforced to me that there are things I hold on to at my own peril.  They are dead weights.  They are distractions rather than aides.  For some they may be the way to go.  I just know that for me they are not.
Letting go of something may or may not be a forever thing.  But for me let go I must.  Notwithstanding addictions, I find that easier with the bad stuff.  Stuff that does me or no-one any good.  But even then, there can be a certain insanity at work that makes me hold on to something that is no good for me, but I find attractive.
The good stuff can be a different story.  Strengths are hard to let go of.  Stuff that my self-sufficiency is built on.  There is a belief that letting that go will leave me wanting.  Yet I find that often I get it back.  It is not the thing that is the problem, but my independence and reliance on the thing.
I used to love to sing but croak may describe what I do since my stroke.  I miss it for sure.  But I do not know if this is a season or the way it is going to be.  That is not what matters to me.  What matters is that I can move on.
I have a mate in a similar position.  If the road those chose obviously worked and was the clear way to go, I would be in boots and all.  But I watch outcomes and the way chosen only leads to frustration and wasted time.  They believe they need to get back to the way they were to be useful.  The thing for me is there is no guarantee that will happen.  There is a hope, but it is built on an unsteady foundation.
I just do not want to go there.  I will work with what I have.