The chart reader in Mumbai said it like he was reading a menu: everything will take you twice as long, but you will get there.
I swallowed a powdery mix of panic, disappointment, and denial before attempting a smile. Not wanting to take time from the group (aka not wanting to hear more about how things in life would take 2x time or effort), I hastily pressed my palms together, bowed, and scuttled off.
I pushed his kind eyes and weathered chestnut skin out the backdoor of my brain. He doesn’t know me. That is not my destiny.
13 years later, I’m writing things like:
“Delays are intentional and beneficial, even if it’s hard to believe in the moment. Resist not.”
because this is — undeniably — the poetry of my life.
So it’s both validating and deeply annoying that after sending those words to you, on our final day in New Hampshire with friends, I strained my calf at the gym.
The next morning, I limped through the airport and then sat on the tarmac for 3 hours, watching rivers form and flow off the wings.
We missed our connecting flight into Spokane and the next available flight wouldn’t take off for another 9 hours.
Idaho welcomed us past midnight with a haze of wildfire smoke, amid news of evacuees returning home to find nothing more than a chimney surrounded by ash.
All petty inconveniences of course, minus the fire, which is indeed very real.
But it worked out — I watched romcoms and got work done, we explored the Mall of America (just like any other mall but bigger, with a rollercoaster), and grabbed arepas with a friend I hadn’t seen in years.
Trevor’s mom and uncle generously drove an hour to deliver us safely to a guest room with crisp white sheets and a lakeside view that is beautiful even when it is grey.
There was honey for tea and the fridge was overflowing. The boats and canoes hovered like ghosts, anticipating the sun’s return and the thump of bare feet on dock.
I hold the idea of ‘plans’ ever more loosely as I get older. Like whispery musings. Dandelion seeds asking to be picked up by the breeze. Cute.
Decidedly unreligious but intensely spiritual, I find myself living some version of Reinhold Niebuhr’s famous prayer: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference” —
It is during these delays and setbacks that I am reminded of the difference.
Reminded of how small we are in the face of nature’s rhythms and how little control we have over others.
Reminded of how much power we do have to influence and improve a situation.
Reminded of how reliant and connected we are to every material atom around us, breathing or not.
“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference, living one day at a time; enjoying one moment at a time; taking this world as it is and not as I would have it…”
Every spiritual and philosophical text I’ve encountered includes some version of this distinction: taking this world as it is and not as we would have it. This is the Buddhist’s immaculate presence, without expectation or agenda. This is the renunciation of covetous wants and forgoing the distraction of comparison. And in our ordinary, magical world, this is the balancing act of acting with intention and without expectation.
This is the freedom found when my clients accept that others’ shortcomings and poor choices do not have to define their worthiness, value, or prospects for love.
This is the journey we begin when we admit to how much growing we have to do on the way to our next milestone — when we wake up to any false beliefs that have been limiting our lives, when we own the behaviors that have been recreating painful patterns — and the commitment made when we take responsibility for doing it differently in the future.
This is the deep love that is unveiled when we enjoy —
en·joy
/inˈjoi,enˈjoi/
verb
1. take delight or pleasure in (an activity or occasion).
2. possess and benefit from.
— when we enjoy the moment as it is presented to us, rather than how we imagine it.
This is the love we treasure in dark moments, as we witness and feel the worry, hurt, loss, disappointment, or rage,
from a foundation of gratitude
for the depth of our human experience,
for the fact that nothing lasts forever,
that somewhere, someone else feels how you feel,
and that even at what can seem like the bottom, you have breath, body, and the ability to choose.
I spent July at the vet, trying to manage 🐈 Osiris’s acute constipation, and though he is faring much better, I wouldn’t called him healed.
After weeks of testing, enemas, antibiotics, the hurry up-and-wait stress of navigating healthcare, and a hospital stay in San Diego, we were exhausted.
How much longer could we do this?
How else can we help him?
and quietly, Would we lose him?
I went to the gym to clear my head, crying between sets of heavy backsquats.
Chalk smeared across my cheeks, I spilled over with a ferocious love and a desperate fear, and —
for anyone who’s cried their way to the end of those feelings —
found myself empty.
No expectations.
No answers.
Face-to-face with precisely what was happening
— and what wasn’t —
and, unburdened by the drain of “I wish it were different,”
I found the resolve to take one more step forward.
“Emptiness is the starting point. — In order to taste my cup of water you must first empty your cup. My friend, drop all of your preconceived fixed ideas and be neutral.
Do you know why this cup is so useful? Because it is empty.”
— Bruce Lee, @historycoolkids
I once stood at the base of a granite cliff, craning my neck, wishing the holds on the climb were bigger or facing the other direction, wishing million year old stone would change itself for me.
The wish fell out of my mouth like a thousand other variations had before, but that day, I saw it for what it was. I hugged the child in me that had spent a lifetime wishing things were different. I told her I understood. And every day since, I have been teaching her new ways to accept what is true and face what feels challenging.
When I stopped wishing, I had the energy to pay attention to and enjoy what actually was.
When I stopped wishing I was stronger or faster or smarter, I had the energy and confidence to prepare, train, and learn.
I stopped wishing Mom would ask questions instead of give advice.
I stopped wishing Dad would take better care of himself,
stopped wishing my Aunt would ask more of life.
I stopped wishing and threw my pennies in a pool of power and possibility instead.
I showed up for what I cared to influence and let go of what wasn’t mine to do.
I appreciated people for who they were and who they weren’t;
I set boundaries and accepted limitations in certain relationships,
and I invested more in those I could grow with.
“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference, living one day at a time; enjoying one moment at a time; taking this world as it is and not as I would have it; trusting that You will make all things right if I surrender to Your will...”
I say delays are not to be resisted because there is nothing else.
There is
nothing —
no thing —
nothing else —
There is nothing else more deserving of our attention than what is here, now, in the present moment.
I can’t say if the Universe has a “will”, but I do trust that life is a benevolent, ever-evolving force that is working for my highest good, and with that comes the courage to let go of what is no longer aligned with the emerging future. With that, I am willing to step through the unmarked doors and pathless wilderness being revealed to us.
The fact that you’re living on this earth means you already know how impossible it is to keep something that doesn’t want to stay.
The fact that you’re here, reading, means you aren’t interested in staying the same.
And while I can’t tell you why any delay or setback occurs (such is life) or if it’s fair (does it matter) or if there’s a reason for it (up to you), I will tell you that you can grow from it
if you want to,
if you’re open to it,
if you’re willing to try on a new way of relating to — partnering with ! — life,
if you’re ready to swear loyalty to the possible future rather than to the familiar past,
if you’re willing
— I am willing
I am willing
I am willing
— to be surprised by who you are becoming and receive all that’s coming your way.
Invitations:
🌟 My final Calling in “The One” Group Coaching program of 2023 begins this Thursday September 7. Set yourself up for a new year of miraculous growth and unprecedented love. There are a few spots remaining - Learn more & register here.
🎁 Free Event with the author of Calling in “The One” - A few of you have mentioned that my Thursday group timing doesn’t work for your schedule. One stellar alternative is to join Katherine Woodward Thomas’ group that begins in October. Her classrooms will take place on Wednesdays from 12-2pm Pacific. Learn more about it at her free workshop on September 6: Calling in Your “One”: The Essential Keys to Creating Happy Love. Register for free here. I’ll be there as the host! :)