Less Flailing, More Surrender

It's been an interesting time in my life.

In the last month or so, I've broken two teeth, had an extraction, a root canal, and gum surgery on one side of my mouth. Tonight, I either broke another tooth, or lost a filling.

I've had a plumber out because there is no hot water in my shower, only to have hot water each time he came.

My desktop crashed two nights ago, only to be working fine when it arrived at a friend's for repair.

I fired my accountant 10 days before my taxes had to be filed by the extension. I've interviewed and not hired an accountant, and now I've hired an accountant.

I've had more scorpions in the house than I like. One appeared to me energetically in my sleep at the entry point. Christine suggested that it might be my shadow totem.

I'm not sure how I'm going to pay November's bills.

And yet, I'm relatively calm and collected this week as I've traveled through the computer crash and now more teeth damage.

September was a really tough patch in the road for me. I hit a new low in confidence and found my way back from the edge. My new mantra is: less flailing, more surrender. It reminds me that wasting energy on emotional reactions doesn't help me grow or even problem solve. Instead, I need to embrace a wide-eyes factual view of the reality in the context of faith. The universe is either a nurturing and supportive place, or it isn't. And if I say I believe it is, there is no need to panic or flail. I need to keep treading water as I wait for the storm to pass, and the sun to break through again.

I certainly didn't need more dental problems or this week's computer problems. But perhaps these events were necessary to really give me the opportunity to sail through, cool as a cucumber, and to demonstrate my faith and inner peace. I am strangely proud of myself tonight. I can almost feel my guides around me smiling. Perhaps I have hit bottom now and things really will turn around. I could sure use some of that!

In the last three years, I've really learned a lot. I am feeling the huge mass of it before me now, and I'm surprised by the amount of it. Before this time, I might have suspected that I believed I was in control because I always had a plan, a solution, a way to make things better. But I had cut myself off from my humanity, my vulnerability, and my heart's depth. I was living a negotiated life. I was living on a movie set instead of living my adventure. I see that now.

Sometimes I imagine people who are living their lives, insulated from the economic challenges of the times, and I can't imagine their lives. I envy them, I must admit, working on their budgets and plans, feeling competent and powerful, making things happen. I remember when I felt like that. A part of me still wishes I felt like that.

But I'm confident that as I get over my shock and the wounds heal, that I'll appreciate the richness and new depth that I've reached in this stage of my journey. And one day, I'll look at my life and feel in my depths appreciation for everything I've gained during this time of shocking loss. And because I know that is my future, I can start to embrace those feelings right now. Tonight. I have no idea how the solution will unfold, but I do know tonight that the solution is already seeking me as I am seeking it. It's just about exercising my surrender muscle without flinching until the events of my life no longer cause me to jerk flinch in response. Until I can breath in and out, taking in the fullness of life with each breath, and feeling my place in the universe.

All is truly well.