That's how I was feeling this morning. I promised God I'd write this blog, and since the last post, I haven't come up with anything that seems worth writing about.
Usually after I finish one post, thoughts and ideas almost immediately begin to percolate for the next one. But not this time. So I'm wondering why I'm so empty. If God wanted me to write this, and He said He'd give me the words I needed to fill the space, and the words aren't coming, what does that mean?
Maybe I'm looking at it the wrong way. I had a session with Dr. Flick when I was in Pittsburgh (drmatthewflick.com) and when the session was complete, Dr. Flick asked me what I was feeling during the session. As I tried to articulate what happened, the first thing that came to me was that I felt like I was in a void, and then I changed that and said, no, it feels like there is a spaciousness within me that wasn't there before. A very vast spaciousness. That's very different from feeling like I was in a void. Spaciousness sounds receptive to me, like there was a space for something after the session that there wasn't space for before the session, if that makes sense. I didn't feel empty at all.
And I just got an email from Dottie Woodward (dottie.woodward.3@facebook.com), the wonderful healer that sponsored my healing circles in Harrisburg. I did an individual session for Dottie while I was there, and I emailed her a couple of days ago and asked how she was doing, and if she had noticed any changes since the session. When she responded, she said she felt very empty, as if 'part of me wasn't there', and then she said that perhaps the session had given her the impetus to shed what was no longer serving her so she could expand.
Hmmmmmm...so maybe I'm not empty. Maybe I need to change my perspective: see myself as being in a receptive mode, free of that which no longer serves me, waiting and holding a space for whatever is supposed to come next. Perhaps that something is bigger than what I'm accustomed to, or different in some way, and in order for me to properly receive and understand it, the space within me needs to be bigger than it has been before. Maybe spaciousness can seem like emptiness if I've never experienced spaciousness before, and particularly if I'm only familiar with the concept of emptiness. I think I'll hold this new perspective close for a while, let it expand and grow, and see where it leads me.
What choice do I have really? If there are no words, there are no words. :)
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
I made a list
My trip to Alaska last year was an eye opener for me. Although I've been single for over thirty years and have become comfortable with and enjoy my life as a single person, that trip made me realize that life might be even better if I had a partner, as long as he was the right partner.
The Universe also seemed to be supporting that idea by bringing me into contact with a variety of couples who were willing to share their insights, experiences and thoughts about living life together. The general consensus was that, although it took a lot of work to make it work, sharing life with a partner was better than living life alone. And over and over again I heard, it had to be the right partner.
The movie, The Secret, that came out several years ago and created such a sensation, said that all we had to do was visualize what we wanted and the Universe would make it happen. The Law of Attraction says that like attracts like, and if we tell the Universe what we want, are open to receiving it, and allow God to work in the way that He knows is best for us, we'll get what we ask for. In each case, though, in order for the Universe to give us what we asked for, we have to know what we want.
When the realization hit me that life could be better if I had the right partner to share it with, and that maybe I was finally ready to open myself up to finding that partner, I began to think of what the right partner for me would look like. So one night in a hotel room in northern California, I took out my journal, opened it to the back pages, and began to write a list of all the things I wanted in a partner.
The very first thing I wrote down was: Pursuing an active, intentional spiritual path similar to my own in belief. That was a no brainer as far as I was concerned, since my last relationship had been with a man who was religious but not spiritual, and not only had not believed what I believed, but was afraid of the work that I did.
Other items on the list included: intelligent/educated, great sense of humor, accepts and loves me as I am (This one was a deal breaker. He had to accept and love all of me, including the part of me that spoke in tongues, banged on drums and talked to people who weren't physically present!) Because my last partner was afraid of my work, I tried to keep that part of me separate when we were together, and that just didn't work. In my next relationship, if there was one, it had to be all or nothing.
And the list continued: generous, kind, willing/able to live in Nashville (another deal breaker), appropriately touchy/feely (likes to hold hands, hug), goes with the flow (none or minor control issues), wants an equal partner and can be an equal partner, attractive (to me!), at least six feet tall, plus or minus five years from my own age, healthy, non-smoker (another deal breaker), willing to take a side road just because it's there and he can, or because I want to, willing to stop on the side of the road, over and over again, to take a picture of a once in a lifetime moment. The list went on and on...forty-five items in all!
When I finally put the pen down and closed the journal, I said to God, "Ok, you better get started 'cause this isn't going to be easy!" and then I turned off the light and went to sleep. Over the next couple of days I thought about the list from time to time, wondering if perhaps I'd been too picky, but deciding that if I was really serious about this, and God could give me what I wanted, then I wanted what I wanted and I was going to leave the list as is. As my trip began to come to an end, and I got closer to home, thoughts of returning to Pittsburgh eventually crowded out thoughts about the list, and in time I forgot about it entirely. And then I met Charles.
We met on one of the sunset lake cruises that Unity Church (the church I've been attending since I moved to Nashville) offered as a way for church members to get to know one another better outside of the Sunday morning services.
Charles and I spent most of that cruise sharing our stories and were pretty much oblivious to the others around us. We saw each other at church the following Sunday for a few brief moments and exchanged contact information, and via email he invited me out to lunch at Panera's the next Thursday, a lunch that ended up lasting five and a half hours!
We've spent a great deal of time together since that first lunch, doing a variety of things, and have gotten to know a lot about each other. He helped me put together a storage unit for my office so I could unpack more boxes, and in unpacking one of those boxes, I came across the journal that contained the list I had written that night in the hotel room. As I began to read down the list, I laughed so hard my belly hurt and tears rolled down my cheeks. From what I knew of him, Charles seemed to be an almost perfect match for the partner I described in that list of forty-five items! (The only two items I knew for sure he wasn't a match for were the height and age requirements I had listed. There were also a couple of others that I wasn't yet sure of, simply because the relationship hadn't yet progressed far enough for me to know, but my gut was telling me those were going to be a match also.)
My mother used to tell me: "Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it." When I was younger I really didn't understand what she meant by that. She seemed to be saying that I might not be happy getting what I wished for, and yet that didn't make sense, because I wouldn't wish for something I didn't want. But over the years I've come to understand what the saying means, and it does make sense. Often we ask/wish for things that we think we want without realizing the full impact those things might have on our lives if we actually got them. That's where I am now, with Charles and our relationship, trying to figure out how to deal with the impact.
He's darn near everything I asked for! What's not to be happy about?
I've been single over thirty years. I have certain ways of doing things, and I've learned to love my alone time, and even require it at times to help me stay balanced and energized. (Charles was married for over forty years and is accustomed to sharing his time and space.) I usually drive in silence, and almost never play the radio/stereo/TV as background noise while I'm doing things around the house. (Charles plays the radio almost constantly in the car, and frequently has the TV on at home because the house is so quiet since his wife's passing.) These aren't the only differences between us, of course, just a couple of examples. The point is, in a relationship, both of us need to get our needs met, and that takes negotiation and compromise.
My life, before Charles, had a pattern to it, a certain rhythm, even here in this new home and new city, a pattern that has helped me make my life work as this independent, single working woman I've been for all these years. If I want to share my life with someone, if I want to let someone in, really let him in, in the deepest most meaningful way possible, then I have to find a new pattern, a new rhythm, a new way of being that allows for that, allows for his needs and wants and desires as well as my own. I need to find a way to allow him in enough to help me find that new way, because if I'm going to have a partner, it can't just be my way, it has to be our way too.
Letting go of the old ways, the ways that are comfortable and safe and familiar, isn't easy. I find myself looking for reasons to say no instead of yes, resisting the closeness, resisting the partnership, the offers of help, not because I don't want what he's offering, but because I don't know how to accept it and still maintain my autonomy. I got what I asked for and I don't know what to do with it! And because sometimes it seems easier just to say no than to learn how to do things differently, even things that can make me happier, make my life fuller and more satisfying than it already is, I have to be careful that I'm not saying no just because I'm in unfamiliar
territory and feeling uncomfortable and out of control.
I asked, and the Universe provided. Since I've met Charles I've laughed harder and longer then I thought possible. I feel accepted and valued in a way I didn't think I ever would. We've had some of the most honest and intimate conversations I've ever had with another human being, opening our hearts and souls to one another without fear of rejection or reprisal. It really has been amazing.
What more could I ask for? The courage to keep saying "yes."
The Universe also seemed to be supporting that idea by bringing me into contact with a variety of couples who were willing to share their insights, experiences and thoughts about living life together. The general consensus was that, although it took a lot of work to make it work, sharing life with a partner was better than living life alone. And over and over again I heard, it had to be the right partner.
The movie, The Secret, that came out several years ago and created such a sensation, said that all we had to do was visualize what we wanted and the Universe would make it happen. The Law of Attraction says that like attracts like, and if we tell the Universe what we want, are open to receiving it, and allow God to work in the way that He knows is best for us, we'll get what we ask for. In each case, though, in order for the Universe to give us what we asked for, we have to know what we want.
When the realization hit me that life could be better if I had the right partner to share it with, and that maybe I was finally ready to open myself up to finding that partner, I began to think of what the right partner for me would look like. So one night in a hotel room in northern California, I took out my journal, opened it to the back pages, and began to write a list of all the things I wanted in a partner.
The very first thing I wrote down was: Pursuing an active, intentional spiritual path similar to my own in belief. That was a no brainer as far as I was concerned, since my last relationship had been with a man who was religious but not spiritual, and not only had not believed what I believed, but was afraid of the work that I did.
Other items on the list included: intelligent/educated, great sense of humor, accepts and loves me as I am (This one was a deal breaker. He had to accept and love all of me, including the part of me that spoke in tongues, banged on drums and talked to people who weren't physically present!) Because my last partner was afraid of my work, I tried to keep that part of me separate when we were together, and that just didn't work. In my next relationship, if there was one, it had to be all or nothing.
And the list continued: generous, kind, willing/able to live in Nashville (another deal breaker), appropriately touchy/feely (likes to hold hands, hug), goes with the flow (none or minor control issues), wants an equal partner and can be an equal partner, attractive (to me!), at least six feet tall, plus or minus five years from my own age, healthy, non-smoker (another deal breaker), willing to take a side road just because it's there and he can, or because I want to, willing to stop on the side of the road, over and over again, to take a picture of a once in a lifetime moment. The list went on and on...forty-five items in all!
When I finally put the pen down and closed the journal, I said to God, "Ok, you better get started 'cause this isn't going to be easy!" and then I turned off the light and went to sleep. Over the next couple of days I thought about the list from time to time, wondering if perhaps I'd been too picky, but deciding that if I was really serious about this, and God could give me what I wanted, then I wanted what I wanted and I was going to leave the list as is. As my trip began to come to an end, and I got closer to home, thoughts of returning to Pittsburgh eventually crowded out thoughts about the list, and in time I forgot about it entirely. And then I met Charles.
We met on one of the sunset lake cruises that Unity Church (the church I've been attending since I moved to Nashville) offered as a way for church members to get to know one another better outside of the Sunday morning services.
Charles and I spent most of that cruise sharing our stories and were pretty much oblivious to the others around us. We saw each other at church the following Sunday for a few brief moments and exchanged contact information, and via email he invited me out to lunch at Panera's the next Thursday, a lunch that ended up lasting five and a half hours!
We've spent a great deal of time together since that first lunch, doing a variety of things, and have gotten to know a lot about each other. He helped me put together a storage unit for my office so I could unpack more boxes, and in unpacking one of those boxes, I came across the journal that contained the list I had written that night in the hotel room. As I began to read down the list, I laughed so hard my belly hurt and tears rolled down my cheeks. From what I knew of him, Charles seemed to be an almost perfect match for the partner I described in that list of forty-five items! (The only two items I knew for sure he wasn't a match for were the height and age requirements I had listed. There were also a couple of others that I wasn't yet sure of, simply because the relationship hadn't yet progressed far enough for me to know, but my gut was telling me those were going to be a match also.)
My mother used to tell me: "Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it." When I was younger I really didn't understand what she meant by that. She seemed to be saying that I might not be happy getting what I wished for, and yet that didn't make sense, because I wouldn't wish for something I didn't want. But over the years I've come to understand what the saying means, and it does make sense. Often we ask/wish for things that we think we want without realizing the full impact those things might have on our lives if we actually got them. That's where I am now, with Charles and our relationship, trying to figure out how to deal with the impact.
He's darn near everything I asked for! What's not to be happy about?
I've been single over thirty years. I have certain ways of doing things, and I've learned to love my alone time, and even require it at times to help me stay balanced and energized. (Charles was married for over forty years and is accustomed to sharing his time and space.) I usually drive in silence, and almost never play the radio/stereo/TV as background noise while I'm doing things around the house. (Charles plays the radio almost constantly in the car, and frequently has the TV on at home because the house is so quiet since his wife's passing.) These aren't the only differences between us, of course, just a couple of examples. The point is, in a relationship, both of us need to get our needs met, and that takes negotiation and compromise.
My life, before Charles, had a pattern to it, a certain rhythm, even here in this new home and new city, a pattern that has helped me make my life work as this independent, single working woman I've been for all these years. If I want to share my life with someone, if I want to let someone in, really let him in, in the deepest most meaningful way possible, then I have to find a new pattern, a new rhythm, a new way of being that allows for that, allows for his needs and wants and desires as well as my own. I need to find a way to allow him in enough to help me find that new way, because if I'm going to have a partner, it can't just be my way, it has to be our way too.
Letting go of the old ways, the ways that are comfortable and safe and familiar, isn't easy. I find myself looking for reasons to say no instead of yes, resisting the closeness, resisting the partnership, the offers of help, not because I don't want what he's offering, but because I don't know how to accept it and still maintain my autonomy. I got what I asked for and I don't know what to do with it! And because sometimes it seems easier just to say no than to learn how to do things differently, even things that can make me happier, make my life fuller and more satisfying than it already is, I have to be careful that I'm not saying no just because I'm in unfamiliar
territory and feeling uncomfortable and out of control.
I asked, and the Universe provided. Since I've met Charles I've laughed harder and longer then I thought possible. I feel accepted and valued in a way I didn't think I ever would. We've had some of the most honest and intimate conversations I've ever had with another human being, opening our hearts and souls to one another without fear of rejection or reprisal. It really has been amazing.
What more could I ask for? The courage to keep saying "yes."
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Fallout
Although in most places here in Nashville the leaves haven't yet begun to change color, evidence of fall is still plentiful. The local produce stands are colored more by the orange of pumpkins, the browns and greens and yellows of winter squash, and the myriad hues of ripe apples than they are the reds of local tomatoes and the green of watermelons. And for a while now, each morning as I walk, I've had to carefully navigate around and through the fallout from the hickory trees that border the road and sidewalks that have become my usual walking path through the condo plan. Hickory nuts, broken shells, and fallen leaves all offer opportunities for a slip or fall, or even a twisted ankle should I place a foot in just the wrong way as I walk. And this morning as I walked, a heavy breeze was dislodging nuts, making it necessary to dodge things falling from the sky as well as the litter on the ground. Quite an interesting experience!
In the beginning, as the trees began to divest themselves of their nuts, I found myself sort of cursing them as I carefully picked my way through the debris, concerned that if I stepped on a whole nut I might just roll myself right into a sitting position on the ground, twist an ankle, or find myself falling face first into the midst of the mess. And then I realized how foolish that was. The trees weren't out to get me! They weren't deliberately
making a mess along my path. They were simply doing what trees do: they were completing a necessary part of their life cycle, and the nuts that were falling, and the broken shells, were simply evidence of that process. Actually, the nuts were evidence of their success in that process. The trees had matured enough, and were healthy enough, to bear fruit, and isn't that their creative purpose? So why should I curse the trees for doing what they came here to do, just because their process was making me pay more attention to my own process?
As I thought about it, and let my perspective broaden, I saw the nuts littering my walking path as a result of the trees successfully fulfilling their purpose, as a great metaphor for the fallout that I leave behind in the process of walking my spiritual path and fulfilling my own creative
purpose. And it gave me a more accepting view of the 'litter' that others leave behind on my path, as they also worked to fulfill their souls' purpose. As we grow, as we heal, as we work through the 'litter' in our own lives, we often leave behind detritus that others must navigate around and through in order to continue their own journeys. Sometimes we are aware of the fallout, sometimes we are totally oblivious.
When we change our ways of being in an effort to grow and expand, when we begin to think and believe differently, when we begin to respond to situations and people in more thoughtful ways rather than react from a gut level, and when we begin to follow Guidance that may seem illogical even to ourselves, those around us who are accustomed to how we used to be before we began to more intentionally grow into our purpose, often find themselves having difficulty navigating their own paths as we grow, because their lives are affected by the changes we make in our own.
When I left Holy Family because the Blessed Mother told me she had work for me to do and that I couldn't do that work staying at Holy Family, my boss was affected by my choice. She had to find a new therapist to take my place, and the entire department had to acclimate to a new personality in their midst, while adjusting to my leaving. My clients at Holy Family were also affected. The new therapist took over my caseload, and my clients had to choose whether to stay on with this new person, or leave. Some of them stayed on, choosing to work through the change, but others chose to leave because my replacement didn't work the way I did and the fit didn't feel as good for them. Some of them didn't even give the new therapist a chance. They left as soon as they heard I was leaving. And I'm sure the new therapist was affected when my long term clients were transferred over to her caseload, and they chose to leave because she wasn't me! Lots of fallout because I made a choice to follow my Guidance and move more intentionally into my own creative purpose.
Leaving Holy Family allowed my gifts to evolve and expand, something that I know is a true blessing. But in the course of allowing those gifts to show themselves, I lost a best friend because she wasn't comfortable with my new abilities. She told me that if she continued to be my friend she would have to re-evaluate her entire belief system, and she wasn't willing to do that. So she chose to discontinue our friendship.
I felt great sadness at her leaving, and an emptiness within me that I didn't think would ever be filled, but the message I received from God right after that happened was that, as I continued to do His work, and continued to allow my gifts to grow and expand in the way that He wanted me to, in order to do the work I was being called to do, there could be others, perhaps many others, who would also reject and abandon me because of those gifts, and I had to be strong enough to continue on in spite of that rejection and abandonment. This experience, He said, was preparing me for what might happen as I continued to fulfill my soul's purpose. I had a choice to make that day. I could have chosen to stop expanding and growing. I could have decided I didn't want to risk additional rejection and abandonment. I could have allowed the debris that she left on my path as she walked her own path, make me smaller, rather than prepare me for expansion. I wasn't in control of the debris she left behind, I was only in control of how I navigated it.
Each choice we make to heal and grow, to fulfill our own life's purpose, has the potential to cause those around us to have to navigate their own paths more carefully, differently, more intentionally. And often it's the experiences that come from that navigating that teach us the lessons that we need to learn to progress even further on our own paths. Sometimes we are the ones leaving behind the debris, sometimes we are the ones finding our way through someone else's debris. Both parts have value, but what I'm learning as I continually strive to grow and be more, is that as I become more and more aware, more and more present, more and more conscious and accountable, I have a greater degree of responsibility for how I let the fallout fall and how I navigate what's fallen in my path.
As I said at the beginning, initially I was cursing the trees and the debris they drop in my path. But the trees aren't deliberately dropping their nuts along my path. They're just doing what they need to do, in the only way they can, to fulfill their own life's purpose. I, however, as the conscious, intelligent being that I am (or like to think I am!), have an increasing ability, as I continue to move into more positive ways of being, to recognize that the changes I am making in my own life may cause discomfort or problems for those who are traveling with me in this lifetime: my friends, my family, my co-workers, etc. I also have an increased awareness and ability, if I allow myself to, to recognize that the debris others are dropping in my path as they walk their paths, is not necessarily aimed at me deliberately to make my own life's process more difficult. It is simply fallout from their own process. Something they may be aware of, or not, depending on how far they've come in their own healing and growth. I have a choice about how I handle both parts of that process.
Keeping to the metaphor of the trees and the nuts, I can continue to curse the trees for dropping their nuts in my path: a total waste of energy, of course, since the trees aren't going to stop what they are doing. I can change my course entirely and avoid anywhere the nuts might be, but I have a feeling that no matter where I walk there will be debris of one sort or another. I can stop walking altogether, waiting for the trees to stop dropping their nuts and waiting for the fallout to disperse, but then I'm totally dependent on something completely out of my control, my progress halted in the meantime. Or, I can accept that the trees are doing exactly what they came here to do, and I can honor their process while continuing my own. I can navigate around and through the fallout they have left behind, the evidence of their success in fulfilling their own creative purpose, being attentive to where I place my feet and how, enjoying the benefits of walking, and learning whatever lessons come to me as I continue to walk my path and fulfill my own soul's purpose. The choice is mine. What about you? How are you handling the fallout?
In the beginning, as the trees began to divest themselves of their nuts, I found myself sort of cursing them as I carefully picked my way through the debris, concerned that if I stepped on a whole nut I might just roll myself right into a sitting position on the ground, twist an ankle, or find myself falling face first into the midst of the mess. And then I realized how foolish that was. The trees weren't out to get me! They weren't deliberately
making a mess along my path. They were simply doing what trees do: they were completing a necessary part of their life cycle, and the nuts that were falling, and the broken shells, were simply evidence of that process. Actually, the nuts were evidence of their success in that process. The trees had matured enough, and were healthy enough, to bear fruit, and isn't that their creative purpose? So why should I curse the trees for doing what they came here to do, just because their process was making me pay more attention to my own process?
As I thought about it, and let my perspective broaden, I saw the nuts littering my walking path as a result of the trees successfully fulfilling their purpose, as a great metaphor for the fallout that I leave behind in the process of walking my spiritual path and fulfilling my own creative
purpose. And it gave me a more accepting view of the 'litter' that others leave behind on my path, as they also worked to fulfill their souls' purpose. As we grow, as we heal, as we work through the 'litter' in our own lives, we often leave behind detritus that others must navigate around and through in order to continue their own journeys. Sometimes we are aware of the fallout, sometimes we are totally oblivious.
When we change our ways of being in an effort to grow and expand, when we begin to think and believe differently, when we begin to respond to situations and people in more thoughtful ways rather than react from a gut level, and when we begin to follow Guidance that may seem illogical even to ourselves, those around us who are accustomed to how we used to be before we began to more intentionally grow into our purpose, often find themselves having difficulty navigating their own paths as we grow, because their lives are affected by the changes we make in our own.
When I left Holy Family because the Blessed Mother told me she had work for me to do and that I couldn't do that work staying at Holy Family, my boss was affected by my choice. She had to find a new therapist to take my place, and the entire department had to acclimate to a new personality in their midst, while adjusting to my leaving. My clients at Holy Family were also affected. The new therapist took over my caseload, and my clients had to choose whether to stay on with this new person, or leave. Some of them stayed on, choosing to work through the change, but others chose to leave because my replacement didn't work the way I did and the fit didn't feel as good for them. Some of them didn't even give the new therapist a chance. They left as soon as they heard I was leaving. And I'm sure the new therapist was affected when my long term clients were transferred over to her caseload, and they chose to leave because she wasn't me! Lots of fallout because I made a choice to follow my Guidance and move more intentionally into my own creative purpose.
Leaving Holy Family allowed my gifts to evolve and expand, something that I know is a true blessing. But in the course of allowing those gifts to show themselves, I lost a best friend because she wasn't comfortable with my new abilities. She told me that if she continued to be my friend she would have to re-evaluate her entire belief system, and she wasn't willing to do that. So she chose to discontinue our friendship.
I felt great sadness at her leaving, and an emptiness within me that I didn't think would ever be filled, but the message I received from God right after that happened was that, as I continued to do His work, and continued to allow my gifts to grow and expand in the way that He wanted me to, in order to do the work I was being called to do, there could be others, perhaps many others, who would also reject and abandon me because of those gifts, and I had to be strong enough to continue on in spite of that rejection and abandonment. This experience, He said, was preparing me for what might happen as I continued to fulfill my soul's purpose. I had a choice to make that day. I could have chosen to stop expanding and growing. I could have decided I didn't want to risk additional rejection and abandonment. I could have allowed the debris that she left on my path as she walked her own path, make me smaller, rather than prepare me for expansion. I wasn't in control of the debris she left behind, I was only in control of how I navigated it.
Each choice we make to heal and grow, to fulfill our own life's purpose, has the potential to cause those around us to have to navigate their own paths more carefully, differently, more intentionally. And often it's the experiences that come from that navigating that teach us the lessons that we need to learn to progress even further on our own paths. Sometimes we are the ones leaving behind the debris, sometimes we are the ones finding our way through someone else's debris. Both parts have value, but what I'm learning as I continually strive to grow and be more, is that as I become more and more aware, more and more present, more and more conscious and accountable, I have a greater degree of responsibility for how I let the fallout fall and how I navigate what's fallen in my path.
As I said at the beginning, initially I was cursing the trees and the debris they drop in my path. But the trees aren't deliberately dropping their nuts along my path. They're just doing what they need to do, in the only way they can, to fulfill their own life's purpose. I, however, as the conscious, intelligent being that I am (or like to think I am!), have an increasing ability, as I continue to move into more positive ways of being, to recognize that the changes I am making in my own life may cause discomfort or problems for those who are traveling with me in this lifetime: my friends, my family, my co-workers, etc. I also have an increased awareness and ability, if I allow myself to, to recognize that the debris others are dropping in my path as they walk their paths, is not necessarily aimed at me deliberately to make my own life's process more difficult. It is simply fallout from their own process. Something they may be aware of, or not, depending on how far they've come in their own healing and growth. I have a choice about how I handle both parts of that process.
Keeping to the metaphor of the trees and the nuts, I can continue to curse the trees for dropping their nuts in my path: a total waste of energy, of course, since the trees aren't going to stop what they are doing. I can change my course entirely and avoid anywhere the nuts might be, but I have a feeling that no matter where I walk there will be debris of one sort or another. I can stop walking altogether, waiting for the trees to stop dropping their nuts and waiting for the fallout to disperse, but then I'm totally dependent on something completely out of my control, my progress halted in the meantime. Or, I can accept that the trees are doing exactly what they came here to do, and I can honor their process while continuing my own. I can navigate around and through the fallout they have left behind, the evidence of their success in fulfilling their own creative purpose, being attentive to where I place my feet and how, enjoying the benefits of walking, and learning whatever lessons come to me as I continue to walk my path and fulfill my own soul's purpose. The choice is mine. What about you? How are you handling the fallout?
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