Sometimes the Hardest Lessons are the Most Subtle
Lately I've been getting frustrated with my perceived inability to move forward in one particular area of my life. It has gotten to the point where I have my friend Tonya's voice on a constant loop in my head: Trust in the Universe, Trust in the Universe, Trust in the Universe....
She would get a kick out of that. Hi, Tonya! ;-)
I may very well be exactly where I need to be in this moment, but it's not necessarily where I want to be. So I figure the sooner I can learn this particular lesson the faster I can get out of this damned hole.
Of course, such things can't be forced, and moves made out of desperation (or perceived desperation) always backfire on you in the end. Mainly because you tried to go around the lesson you were supposed to learn. So not only does it kick you back to the beginning, it shovels another lesson or two on top of the original. So then you're piled under a bunch of things you're trying not to figure out because you're so goddamned tired of always learning the fucking lesson.
Lately I've been wondering if my lesson is complete and utter surrender: to completely let go and to be supported by someone else. Maybe it's time I learned that being fiercely independent is not all it's cracked up to be, and letting someone else in is not a bad thing.
I don't mean complete surrender to the point of not actually doing anything; that is laziness and not in my genetic makeup. I guess what it means is saying "this particular thing is not currently working for me and I can't figure out a way out of it. Can someone please help until I can get myself back together?"
I am so lucky in that I have someone who keeps telling me "I am here for you. You will be okay. We will get through this. Things aren't nearly as bad as you're telling yourself they are. I will help you find your way back together."
Maybe my lesson is listening to him and letting myself believe that I can lean back into the Trust Fall, because there is finally someone there to catch me.