On an uncharacteristically warm and sunny day in early November, I took a walk on the winding, hilly lanes in the beautiful lake community in New England where I live. I ended up at the beach where the long line of boats is now out of the water; the docks disassembled and brought to shore tied securely to land, ready for the long winter ahead. But the Adirondack chairs were still out and so I rested a while, with my face in the sun.
I felt blessed that on a Monday morning I didn’t have to rush off to work somewhere and instead I could be here on a deserted beach, reaching into my mind and heart to connect with the Source within and notice that in spite of the gratitude I felt so strongly, there was a restlessness this day that disturbed the sense of peace I’ve come to see as the barometer of my life.
With eyes closed, my head resting on the top of the chair, I met myself in my sacred space, under a big oak tree facing Jesus – my favorite go-to guide – who always waits for me sitting cross-legged on the ground. He knew I spent the morning feeling uninspired, not able to lose myself in some project or another and feeling that my inactivity and lack of focus was a problem instead of what simply was.
He knew I was no longer interested in doing anything that didn’t come from an inspired place; that I wanted to be done through – not done by. He knew that what I did or didn’t do, didn’t really matter…only that it called to my heart…for then, it would also bring me and others joy.
The restlessness I felt alerted me that something was off…and so I asked for help.
I was told that most of us fill our lives with a busyness that modern life demands; that uses these distractions to suck us in, sometimes for months, years, or even a lifetime. Decades go by and we find we’ve done nothing significant despite any worldly success we may have achieved; nothing that helps lift the veil of forgetting and brings light into this human experience we all share.
I was told that whatever I perceived as being not right; whatever I judged as shouldn’t be happening or should be happening, slowed down the process of the clearing that was necessary in order to be done through.
I was being escorted off the fast-moving train, but I kept grasping the open doors, refusing to let go. I was refusing to let go because I was afraid of falling – or failing – as it sped through the landscape of my life.
Ahhh, another layer of resistance revealed as I struggled to surrender once again to the calling of life. Foolish I know, for life will have its way with me. Do I go willingly, gracefully, knowing that ultimately, only good happens? Do I trust the process of life and surrender into the Divinity of it all; the Divinity that I am? Or do I fall back to the familiar, the logical, the safe ways of yesterday and give way to my fears?
That warm day in November I decided, not from a speeding train, but from the sweet solitude of a sun-streaked beach, in calm surrender, to once again turn to my noble companion under the big oak tree and in the turning…I chose again.