I've spent a lot of time recently thinking about the way that the world works and considering whether or not there's a plan for us. Not really in a "predetermination" sort of way (I really can't swallow that my life has already been written somewhere like a crappy Indy dark comedy) but simply that the universe is constantly coming together around me in a way that has pushed my life towards a certain path, and that it will continue to do so. I am going to go right out there and say that releasing the control that I've always hoarded for myself has been liberating. And rather than leading to inaction, it's led to me move with more clarity through my life. Don't get me wrong, I don't think that I have things figured out, quite the opposite; it's just that I don't need to figure it all out, it's all coming and my job is just to receive it. To be truly open to opportunity, love and life is a really hard thing. I'm just trying to get out of my own way.
Buddhist nun Pema Chodron writes in The Wisdom of No Escape: and the Path to Loving-Kindness, " Life's work is to wake up, to let things that enter into the circle wake you up rather than put you to sleep. The only way to do this is to open, be curious, and develop some sense of sympathy for everything that comes along, to get to know its nature and let it teach you what it will." Maybe it's the nature of people, but I've found that lessons almost always come with "bad" things. When things are good, when we're comfortable and nestled deep in our cubby holes, there is very little learned. It's only when we venture out into the unknown, the dark place, meet our shadow or stand at the edge of our abyss that we're forced to confront ourselves, and realize that we didn't know a thing at all.
One, two, three, always in a row. Maybe it's because we're looking for it, or because it's the natural rhythm of the universe, or because we've smoked too much crack, but it sure feels like when you've experienced two difficult situations, there's a third to come. Otherwise, you're just waiting for the other shoe to drop (damn it, I actually said that to someone the other day).
I think it's just because three is all I can take, because if there were more, I'd keel over with the weight of it. I'd have to crawl underneath the covers and actually never come out again. But for now, I feel pretty safe, I think the universe knows that I've confronted more dark spaces in the last little while than I have in a very very long time. I've teetered on the brink and not fallen in. Thank you, lesson learned.
Buddhist nun Pema Chodron writes in The Wisdom of No Escape: and the Path to Loving-Kindness, " Life's work is to wake up, to let things that enter into the circle wake you up rather than put you to sleep. The only way to do this is to open, be curious, and develop some sense of sympathy for everything that comes along, to get to know its nature and let it teach you what it will." Maybe it's the nature of people, but I've found that lessons almost always come with "bad" things. When things are good, when we're comfortable and nestled deep in our cubby holes, there is very little learned. It's only when we venture out into the unknown, the dark place, meet our shadow or stand at the edge of our abyss that we're forced to confront ourselves, and realize that we didn't know a thing at all.
One, two, three, always in a row. Maybe it's because we're looking for it, or because it's the natural rhythm of the universe, or because we've smoked too much crack, but it sure feels like when you've experienced two difficult situations, there's a third to come. Otherwise, you're just waiting for the other shoe to drop (damn it, I actually said that to someone the other day).
I think it's just because three is all I can take, because if there were more, I'd keel over with the weight of it. I'd have to crawl underneath the covers and actually never come out again. But for now, I feel pretty safe, I think the universe knows that I've confronted more dark spaces in the last little while than I have in a very very long time. I've teetered on the brink and not fallen in. Thank you, lesson learned.
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