This past weekend, my son and I went with three other families for our annual weekend camping trip. There's nothing like spending a couple of days in the woods and on the beach with good friends to make me feel like all is well in the world.
Until I started the barbecue the first night.
The yurt sites we were staying on each have a full-size barbecue onsite (yes, I'm more of a 'fancy camper', these days). The moment I lit up the burners, chaos ensued. A stash of dried leaves tucked underneath the burner burst into flames as something scurried frantically beneath the grill: a pair of chipmunks, scrambling for their lives!
Immediately I turned off the gas, but the leaves were still on fire, so I started madly huffing and puffing in an attempt to blow out the flames. The chipmunks dashed back and forth, trapped beneath the grill, seemingly unsure whether they should flee for their lives or try to save their perishing home. I grabbed the tongs and used them to lift up the non-flame-engulfed end of the grill - creating an escape hatch - but I think I only scared them more, flailing my arms and shouting over the blaze that was once their home. "No! No!", I pleaded as they kept running back into the flames, "I'm trying to HELP you! Get OUT! Get OUUUUUUUUUUTTTTT!!!" Finally, one of them dove out a hole at the back of the Q, and the other took a flying leap out from my escape hatch into the safe haven of a nearby tree.
This all happened within about seven seconds, but it was the longest seven seconds of the weekend. Momentarily rattled, we all stared at each other wide-eyed, silently wondering: "What the *BLEE%*#P" just happened here?!?!" Then one of my friends gave me a hug, joking that I sure looked like I needed one (which I did) and we started to laugh, thankful that the chipmunks had escaped unscathed.
I know for sure they were fine, because the next morning - after my son had made amends with them by feeding them half a bag of peanuts - I found them back in the barbecue with a new batch of leaves (and a half dozen nuts) tucked under the burner. This time, I patiently removed all the leaves and nuts before firing up the grill, wondering why - after their close brush with death less than a day ago - they were so quick to set up shop in the exact same location. "They'll figure it out this time," I assured myself, assuming that after not one but two dashed attempts at nest-building in my weekend kitchen, they'd realize it might be wise to set up their cozy quarters elsewhere.
But noooooooo…later that day when it was time to cook dinner, there they were AGAIN. For the THIRD time. Danger be damned, they were determined to make this potentially deadly corner of the campsite their home. And it's not like this barbecue had been sitting vacant; not even close. We were at a very popular provincial park here in Ontario, where every single site is booked up months in advance, and the yurt sites - which have electricity and heat - are used year-round, even through the winter. (You can read here and here about my solo winter yurt getaway from a couple of years ago). But these chipmunks thought they had found an 'ideal spot' for their nest, and were determined to stay, despite the danger.
Granted, it did have some ideal qualities for a chipmunk house: it was dry and sturdy, and offered reliable protection from the elements and from predators. I could definitely see all the reasons they found it so appealing. But there were hundreds, if not thousands, of other options nearby for these chipmunks; other excellent options, with all the benefits and none of the dangers. The reality in this case was that despite all the obvious benefits the barbecue home offered, the risks were simply too great. Period.
Have you ever found yourself in a situation like that? Where you are comfortable, content or even downright happy with all the wonderfulness of a certain situation - a job or a relationship perhaps - but if you're really honest with yourself, you'd have to admit that you're turning a blind eye to some serious red flags?
I've been there. In both the job and the relationship categories, I've found myself in situations where the benefits were not imagined, but very real; where the advantages - at least on the surface - seemed to outweigh the disadvantages. In fact, there were times when I was so focused on the 'rewards' that I didn't even acknowledge the 'risks'; didn't even allow it to register that they too were very real. Sometimes in life - as in my own circumstances - the red flags may not be so severe that they burst into a sudden 'fire' that burns you (metaphorically speaking), but even if the issues are just smouldering quietly in the corner, they can 'slow-roast' you (so to speak), and eventually burn you out. Which is just as destructive.
It's easy to justify staying in those kinds of comfortable situations, especially when the good stuff is actually good. I can just hear the chipmunks arguing about all the good reasons they should stay in their barbecue house! But there was also a very clear downside. It's easy to ignore those red flags when they're not immediately flaring up in your face, but when it comes to creating a life you love, it's important to also look at the big picture and the long term trajectory of the decisions and choices you're making now, because today's choices impact tomorrow's results. Always.
Don't get me wrong: I'm not advocating that you turn issues into something bigger than they really are, nor that you go looking in your life for faulty points - because you generally will find whatever it is that you're looking for - but I am advocating really opening your eyes to what the costs are in your situation, if any, and being completely honest with yourself about whether or not those costs are prices that you are willing to pay. And let's be clear on one other point: I'm not talking about pet peeve kinds of 'faulty points' related to jobs or relationships, like when you think the office coffee tastes like tar, or you have a partner who leaves the toilet seat up. I'm talking about the core values and principles by which you want to conduct your life. You can only turn a blind eye to that stuff for so long. Leave it smouldering in the corner without putting it out, and one day you might just wake up to find yourself burned (or burned out).
How To Avoid Getting Burned:
1. Open your eyes and see what the red flags really are. Recognize which ones you can do something about, and which ones you can't.
2. Be honest with yourself and recognize when it's time to move on to something better. Don't wait for the flames to erupt under your feet before you start planning your next steps. Brainstorm your options.
3. Get a second (or third, or fourth) opinion if you need it, to make sure you're seeing clearly. Still, remember that onlyyou know what's right for you.
4. Use your head and your gut to guide you to the right path. Don't get burned staying in a place just because it's comfortable, if there are real and important downsides.
Because I know you're smarter than a chipmunk!