Showing posts with label letting go. Show all posts
Showing posts with label letting go. Show all posts

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Things Open Up When You Let Go





I've spent the past couple of years worrying. I used to be a recovering worrier, but I've fallen back into old patterns. Money, the future, my kids, health, our world's future, am I doing what I'm here to do (whatever that is)?

And the vise tightened a little bit every day. I could almost feel it.

But something happened around the New Year; I not only resolved to relax and let go, but I realized that if nothing changed at all, it just wasn't all that bad in my world.

Maybe we have to move to a smaller house. So what? It's a house. Maybe I'll never get paid what I think I'm worth. So what? My job treats me well, appreciates my work, lets me work on issues I think are important. Maybe my Lyme really is chronic, that I'm never going to feel quite as well as I used to. So what? I'm still so much more functional than many people with other chronic conditions. Maybe I'll learn to nap, at long last. My kids? They prove every day that they've got good heads on their shoulders and my nudging doesn't really help them. They're finding their way, bumping into walls and learning what works and what doesn't.

The world. Ah. That's all a question of perspective. If I look for a massive, techtonic shift in consciousness, I'm likely to be waiting a long time. That isn't how change happens. But there are changes, there is movement. I speak to the leaders of many of those progressive efforts. I should know better than most that change is possible and it is happening. It's a glacier, not a tsunami.

What about fulfilling whatever my purpose might be here? First you have to accept that there is one. I do. I believe the overarching purpose is learning. We're little cells of a greater organism, in the philosophy of Susan, and each of us contributes to the improvement of the whole by the lessons we learn and the evolving we do in our lifetime experiences.

So what if I'm doing it already? What if I had some massive lessons to learn, and I've already tackled them? I've learned that no matter how hard we try to conform, there comes a time when the inner self throws off its chains and demands to live. It may be a small revolution; a decision to change careers, to find a job that isn't a daily psychic death. Or it can be a huge revolution; a dead stop, full turn in a new direction. Whatever it may be, I think that there are two choices; let that inner self live, or live with a growing resentment and anger that distorts every part of your life.

The inner self, I've come to believe, is the expression of that greater self, the one who came here with a mission. It has to be fulfilled. That's why it exists.

But, as Arlo Guthrie said after fifteen minutes of "Alice's Restaurant", that isn't what I came to talk to you about today.

I came to talk about why the doors and windows suddenly are opening, the skies clearing for miles, the road beginning to uncurl ahead of me like a lazy ribbon.

Something happened after that New Year's exhalation. Opportunities began to present themselves. I made a couple of small steps to straighten out the messes in my world and suddenly amazing things are afoot.

The phone rang and an old friend mentioned a job that might be a great fit for me. Within days, three more good jobs, similarly good, appeared, all of them ones with whom I already have contacts.

Our house hasn't sold, but showings are beginning to pick up. We found another house, not far away, that would work beautifully for us and that we like. I stumbled across a story about an elderly doctor who treats children with Lyme Disease; he offered me a new perspective on my options.

My life's work? I still believe that, right now, it's writing. And I'm still fighting my own resistance to do it. But I've set that April 1st deadline and I'll meet it. Organization is important right now; I've got such limited time during the week that my work is slopping over into my "me" time, and I'm too conscientious to put aside the "them" work and risk missing a deadline.

But I've got three days this weekend, time to get "their" work done, finish my taxes and spend some quality time with my book.

The sky is wide open. And with all my reading of quantum mechanics, the metaphysical reading that relates to it (Seth books are remarkable if you've never explored - my mother adored them and so does KB), all my viewings of Mindwalk, What the Bleep Do We Know?, it's still counter-intuitive. When things are scary, we shut down.

But if the universe is, indeed, an interconnected web of energy and our thoughts can, indeed, create reality, the trick is to relax, to let go, to put out a clear, firm intention of what we want and need and then forget it. By all the laws of quantum mechanics, it will manifest.

This time in my life is apparently another reminder that it's true. All my worrying created nothing but obstacles. When I let go, things started to flow.

I don't know how it will all come out, but I know what I'm looking for. Serenity, a level of comfort and space to pursue this writing life I want. I have to do my part. I have to write. All of these strange, happy coincidences indicate that the universe is willing to do its part, too.

What if we really DO make our own reality? What will you make?

Friday, January 1, 2010

There's Plenty - Greeting the New Year With Open Arms




I resolved to be less afraid, more confident of our survival, the generosity of the universe in 2010. Not in a woo-woo, let's sit down and chant an affirmation kind of way (though that's probably not a bad idea)but in a practical, confident, relaxed attitude that lets me recognize that things really DO work out.

This little sweetie spent almost twenty four hours curled up in the garden in front of our house this summer - I could have opened a window and reached out to pet her. And I spent the day worried. Where was her mom? Why did she leave her for so long? Did she get hit by a car? How could we help the poor little orphan? I peeked out that window at her every hour or more. She never looked worried - sometimes she got up and stretched, obviously bored with snoozing all day in the midst of the bee balm.

I went to bed a midnight with a heavy heart. Our baby was still there, still unclaimed. I read all the warnings that you must NEVER interfere, that a mother will reject her baby when she returns if it smells like humans. But what if she didn't return?

In the morning, baby was gone. No sign of trouble (believe me, I've heard trouble - that's another story and there's no missing it), no sign of injury. Mom just returned home good and late, baby hopped up and they moved on. All my worrying was for nothing.

That's my lesson for this year; things work out. Worrying changes nothing. I am not so smart that I can figure out how things will work, but they'll work just the same.

Will things change? Absolutely. That's the nature of this life. But it'll be okay. My job is to do what I do, stretch myself a little farther, try new things and enjoy the process. That's all any of us are supposed to do.

I'm going to practice acting "as if" and see if things don't fall into place a little easier than when I try to bull them into position.

First order of business - stop fretting about this book. Just write it. Stop worrying if I'm interesting enough, compelling enough, if the stories are strong enough, if I'm exposing my innards too much, if anyone will want to read it, if it'll get published, if it'll sell. All I can do right now is write it.

Second order of business - relax about money. I'm incredibly lucky to have a job and a steady income. It seems very ungrateful to not be willing to simply find a way to live within those limitations for now. There's no saying that standard of living can't improve dramatically, and if I relax and do my part it probably will. For now, I will appreciate that fact that there are ways for me to be comfortable within the present limits, giving me room to explore those possibilities for growth.

Final order of business - let go of the past. The past decade was so traumatic, so full of wrenching change and loss that I've spent most of that time trying to figure it all out, to admit my angers and resentments and feelings of guilt and remorse. Time to move into the letting go phase. I can look around and really see now, see the terrific guy I love, my two very different and amazing children who are now young adults, see the people from my past and the people I know now and appreciate them. I'm sick of being in my own way.

That includes all the problems in this world. They'll hit me, I know. I'll react. But I'm going to try to remember that things will, eventually, work out. I'll look for the positive things to help move that along.

The 2010 decade, for me, is about finally allowing myself to be happy, just as I am, just as things are. It all really IS okay.