Having a job I have to commit hours to is a string. Having this apartment is a string. All of the crap I have in it, that I should be clearing out, that I should be throwing away, each one is a string. My own tendency towards laziness and procrastination are big, thick strings. Attitudes of bitterness and anger, strings. Commitments I make to other people, they are all strings.
I have a tough time cutting through my own strings. I take a certain comfort in them. My strings build a structure that I'm familiar with. It almost becomes a place where I feel bad if I cut a string. As if I've given the strings life, breath, a pulse, and cutting them is killing them.
I look at the people I admire, my heroes, and I'm sure they have their own strings. But they are a lot better at loosening those strings, re-tying them where they need to, and just plain letting them go when they don't. They are not mired down in cables an inch thick, they are buoyed up by the balloons they tie to the ends of their strings. (Okay, so maybe I looked at my UP poster for help on that metaphor.)
The point is, I'm getting too comfortable. And it needs to stop. I need to keep my forward momentum going, I need to sort through my strings and determine which ones can stay and which ones should go. It's time to get out of the comfort zone and keep pushing on.