The lesson ahead.
I spent some time last night meditating, speaking to the source about what course of action I am supposed to take in the coming weeks, months.
Last Thursday, I had a moment. I listened to "Here Comes The Sun" on loop, tears streaming down my face because things were finally, finally starting to move in the right direction. Or at least, what I perceived the right direction to be. Thank you, thank you, I said. I am so grateful. I felt like I was finally breaking through-- so close I could reach out and grasp what I wanted, and keep it warm.
And then the very next day things changed again, with little warning. Miscommunications, catch-22s, clarifications deemed uncomprehensibly too late. Fear and hurt and walls. Again I was thrown into confusion, and the pain was almost overwhelming. I had so little choice-- what do you do when nothing you say when speaking from the heart can reach out to someone? The answer is to back off, to protect yourself, to repeat over and over again that you can't change someone, can't make someone see anything they're not willing to see. It's a hard thing to try to accept. I'm about a quarter of the way there. I'm doing my best to not have tunnel vision. I know it might not seem like it here, but this is how I work things out, through writing. Through reaffirming.
But last night, I was finally able to see the shape of another lesson ahead of me. It is not enough to be grateful when things are going the way you want them to go. I need to learn to be grateful even when things aren't my ideal, and to show that gratitude.
People are people-- flawed, yes. There isn't a single one of us who is above reproach or finished with his or her personal growth. But people also are wonderful, and full of love and support. Capable of holding one another up. We can be inconsistent, and we can let fear muddle our responses, but at heart, a good person is willing to persevere. A good person will not criticize others to cover up his or her own shortcomings. A good person will not rest on his or her laurels of perceived goodness. He or she will always be reaching-- to be gentler, more kind, more open, more loving. And that will be me.
I begin with gratitude.
Last Thursday, I had a moment. I listened to "Here Comes The Sun" on loop, tears streaming down my face because things were finally, finally starting to move in the right direction. Or at least, what I perceived the right direction to be. Thank you, thank you, I said. I am so grateful. I felt like I was finally breaking through-- so close I could reach out and grasp what I wanted, and keep it warm.
And then the very next day things changed again, with little warning. Miscommunications, catch-22s, clarifications deemed uncomprehensibly too late. Fear and hurt and walls. Again I was thrown into confusion, and the pain was almost overwhelming. I had so little choice-- what do you do when nothing you say when speaking from the heart can reach out to someone? The answer is to back off, to protect yourself, to repeat over and over again that you can't change someone, can't make someone see anything they're not willing to see. It's a hard thing to try to accept. I'm about a quarter of the way there. I'm doing my best to not have tunnel vision. I know it might not seem like it here, but this is how I work things out, through writing. Through reaffirming.
But last night, I was finally able to see the shape of another lesson ahead of me. It is not enough to be grateful when things are going the way you want them to go. I need to learn to be grateful even when things aren't my ideal, and to show that gratitude.
People are people-- flawed, yes. There isn't a single one of us who is above reproach or finished with his or her personal growth. But people also are wonderful, and full of love and support. Capable of holding one another up. We can be inconsistent, and we can let fear muddle our responses, but at heart, a good person is willing to persevere. A good person will not criticize others to cover up his or her own shortcomings. A good person will not rest on his or her laurels of perceived goodness. He or she will always be reaching-- to be gentler, more kind, more open, more loving. And that will be me.
I begin with gratitude.