In 12-step programs, there’s a saying that for anything to change, you must go through the three “A’s:” awareness, acceptance, and action. I’m very good at awareness and action. Acceptance? Not so much. I want to skip over acceptance and go right into action to fix whatever is wrong. I don’t want to sit with it or accept it. That’s the uncomfortable part. But there’s something to acceptance, to saying, “This is where I am right now and I don’t like it but I also don’t have to fight it.”
Did you know that one definition of “accept” is “to receive”? When I accept myself or my life circumstances, I’m receiving them, I’m meeting them, I’m greeting them. They become like a friend coming in out of a storm that I’m welcoming inside. There is no judgment, no sense of good or bad. Instead, there is neutrality and that’s exactly what I’m striving for right now. To let myself be what I am – no more and no less.
I love how flowy the jellyfish is. Photo by Giorgio Trovato on Unsplash
I can apply that mentality to circumstances as well. Do I like them? No. Can I receive them? Yes. To take the guest analogy further, guests are not residents – eventually, they leave. Some guests stay longer than others, sure, but no one sticks around forever. And in the interim, what sort of host am I? I’d like to be the gracious and hospitable kind.
There’s also something to letting the flow take over. To say to whatever is happening in my life, “I’m entering the stream and I’m letting this take me where I need to go.” There’s grace in that act of acceptance because essentially, it’s surrendering to what is, which allows something else to emerge.
There’s a story in the Mahábhárata about surrender that I don’t particularly love but illustrates surrender beautifully. When Duhshásana was pulling the sari of Draopadii, she was tightly holding the cloth to her body with one hand, beseeching Lord Krśńa with the other. “Oh! My Lord, save me!” But he didn’t come forward to save her. When Draopadii found no means of escape, she then released her hold on the cloth and appealed to the Lord most piteously with both hands outstretched, saying, “O Lord, I surrender my all to you. Do what you think is best.” And then the Lord immediately rescued her.
When I can accept something fully, that’s when something greater, larger, more magnificent can step in. It’s essentially what I wrote about last week and having my life belong to love. When I first accept what is, I’m receiving what the Divine Beloved wants to bring into my life. I may not like it in the beginning, the water may be choppy, I may throw up from seasickness, but at some point, I’ll look back and say, “Oh, I see. You did that for my benefit.” But key to that process is first, accepting.
I dream of a world where we recognize for anything to change, we must go through the process of awareness, acceptance, and then action. A world where we understand to accept something is to receive it with care. A world where we allow ourselves to move with the flow by entering the stream of life exactly where we are, right now.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Have you heard the expression, “Expectations are premeditated resentments?” I wouldn’t say that’s wholly true for me because my expectations aren’t about other people, but they have certainly been premeditated disappointments. For instance, I woke up on the morning of my most recent birthday and cried because I’m not at all where I thought I’d be at this age. Yes, the big things like married, but also I thought by this age I’d be living in a more spacious apartment and have signed a literary agent. But I haven’t.
Every year I inflict this kind of disappointment on myself. I make a goal where I say, “By this time next year I’ll ______.” And then inevitably what I set out to achieve doesn’t come to pass because I’m not in control of every aspect of my life. If we’re using the theater metaphor that all the world’s a stage and we’re merely players upon it, I’m instead operating under the assumption I’m the director. As the director, I have a say in what happens upon the stage, but as much as I’d like to be the director, I was cast as an actor. And that means it doesn’t make sense to have expectations for how my future will unfold.
I would like to follow this command. Photo by Alex Block on Unsplash
Having a goal is great, but setting a timeline is not. How can I possibly predict what will happen in the future? I can’t. That’s also the chief complaint of every crowd-funded campaign I’ve ever backed. The creator sets up a timeline and says, “You’ll receive your water pitcher in six months,” or whatever and when that time comes and goes, people get angry and impatient. The timing is almost always off because the creator ran into unforeseen circumstances. It’s the same for me — I’m forever running into unforeseen circumstances.
What if instead of giving goals a deadline, I work toward them and just let my life unfold? What if instead I accepted and enjoyed what’s here, now? Jodi Picoult speaks to this in her novel Nineteen Minutes when she writes, “There were two ways to be happy: improve your reality, or lower your expectations.”
I already work incredibly hard to improve my reality so maybe now is the time to lower my expectations, or better yet, not have any at all. What’s funny is when I googled how to do that, much of the search results focused on lowering expectations in regards to other people and not much about lowering the expectations a person has for themselves. I suspect that because in the U.S. anyway, we have high expectations for ourselves. We believe if we dream it, we can achieve it and on our timeline to boot. You just have to think positively! Create a vision board! Hire a life coach! That all has a place, but so does something every spiritual teacher talks about: surrender.
My spiritual teacher says, “Human beings and other created beings perform a multitude of actions. The ultimate action, however, is … total surrender.” Total surrender means aligning my will with higher power’s will. Total surrender means recognizing I am an actor in this world, not the director. Total surrender means no longer placing expectations upon myself for when something will be accomplished because that only sets me up for disappointment and this year my goal instead is to be happy.
I dream of a world where we remember the recipe for happiness is to improve our reality or lower our expectations. A world where we remember we are the actors upon the stage of life and not the directors. A world where we understand in order to truly feel happy, we have to let go and enjoy what arises when it arises.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I want to live in the fast lane. I don’t mean snorting cocaine and spending money like there’s no tomorrow. I mean I want things to happen quickly like fire – swift, consuming, noticeable. Instead, things happen like a seed planted in dirt – slow, unassuming, subtle.
Here’s a true story: In January, I planted California poppy seeds. In March, everyone else’s poppies started to bloom. Mine did not. I checked my poppies frequently, searching for signs of buds. Each day I stared at verdant green leaves, but no hints of orange. Finally, in about mid-May, the first bud appeared and then suddenly, a flower. It thrilled me to see orange after so many months of waiting. I beamed from ear to ear and pride swelled within me. But note, it took months, MONTHS, for my poppies to catch up to everyone else’s.
Seemed apropos. Not my poppy, but mine looked just like this.
Right now, I feel like those poppies, behind the times. Many of my friends are progressing in their lives. They’re buying houses, getting married, having babies, starting businesses. They are dating new people, starting new jobs. Things are not perfect – I am privy to their challenges as well as triumphs – but stuff is happening in their lives. The same is not true for me. Instead, I am a poppy plant with no hint of a bud.
A part of me thinks something is wrong that I’m not cycling with my peers. I’m not blooming while they are. However, I’m reminded of what my spiritual teacher said regarding movement. Movement is systaltic, like a heart beat. Do you know how a heart pumps blood? I learned this ages ago in AP bio. A heart is like a syringe – it fills up with blood, pauses at fullness, and then pushes all the blood out. In all of life, we experience this cycle. It’s the natural order of things to expand, pause, and contract.
I think I’m still in the expanding phase. I haven’t reached fullness yet. I’m still pulling nutrients from the soil. When I look at those around me, it’s hard not to compare myself with them. I know, I know, comparison is the thief of joy. I know compare usually leads to despair. I know I’m not doing myself any favors by comparing my life to anyone else’s, yet, I’m doing it anyway. It’s hard not to. When I think about my poppies, when I think about life being systaltic, I feel a smidge better because I’m reminded I am in my own cycle. It may take longer for things to bloom, but that doesn’t mean they won’t.
I dream of a world where we remember we each have our own cycles. A world where we realize sometimes things happen quickly and sometimes things happen slowly. A world where we realize there’s not much we can do about timing other than to take the required action and let go of the rest. And then one day, we’ll look and see a bloom.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Lately I’ve been humbled and in awe of the magic, the mystery, and the surprise of life. So often I think I know how things will play out and I’m being shown, yet again, I have no idea. This has come up especially in regard to people.
I met someone in December 2013 who I liked right off the bat and had high hopes for his involvement with my yoga and meditation community. He seemed so keen and enthusiastic. He came to our newly formed group meditation a few times consecutively and then stopped. I wrote him off, never expecting to see him again except on facebook. Someone else in the group said, “Well, that’s the last time we’ll see that guy again.” But it wasn’t. About a year later, “that guy” surprised us by coming around again. He’s shown himself to be a dedicated member of my community, and much to my surprise, he’s a dear friend and an important person in my life. Go figure.
We are all working with a cosmic magician.
Similarly, three years ago I connected with someone and felt affection for him right away. We hung out a few times and then I didn’t hear much from him again. I assumed he would be a peripheral friend, someone I’d invite to a party, but nothing more. Color me shocked when he called me up last week to catch up and reconnect. That’s not how I was expecting things to play out. And that’s the point – I never know how things will play out. I throw myself into a tizzy thinking about the future because I’m absolutely sure I know what will happen. If I’m not friends with you now, I won’t be friends with you later. If I’m single now, I’ll be single forever. If I’m in debt now, I’ll be in debt forever. It’s a small thing, but these two men remind me I have no freaking clue what the future holds and also demonstrate to me someone else is in charge here.
Indian-American economist, author, and professor Ravi Batra wrote a book in the late 80s that became a number one New York Times bestseller. He attributed his success to the “cosmic magician.” I love that. It certainly seems that way when something unexpected and amazing happens like writing a runaway bestseller when all your previous books weren’t as successful. Thinking of the cosmic magician reminds me amazing and magical things can happen and they’re not up to me. I’m not the one responsible for outcomes, or the fruits of my labor, if you will. Not just with writing, but with everything.
My spiritual teacher says, “Behind this world’s creation, there is a cosmic magician who has created the universe and also controls it. In fact, whatever has been or shall be created is He and He alone. Those who have realized this truth attain blessedness.”
When I can remember the cosmic magician, I can relax because it means I’m not responsible for everything in my life. Some things yes. But everything? No. There are greater forces at play in the world that have absolutely nothing to do with me. Furthermore, I remind myself of what the true essence of all things is: the divine. When I do that, the whole world sparkles and life becomes magical.
I dream of a world where we remember the cosmic magician. A world where we realize there are greater forces at work than we often credit. A world where we allow ourselves to be open to whatever comes our way because we have no idea what’s ahead.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Growing up in a spiritual household my parents have been extolling the virtue of surrender for years. And by surrender I primarily mean “letting God and letting God” while still doing what I can, because after all God gave me hands to work, legs to move, stamina to act, and practical intelligence so I might as well make use of them! Anyway, as you know I launched a kickstarter campaign to raise money to get my book professionally copyedited, designed, and laid out. (And if you didn’t know, I launched a kickstarter campaign! The cutoff is Friday and $15 gets you a free copy of the book!)
I can say unequivocally this campaign has driven me NUTS. A few weeks ago I prayed for peace – and I meant it but there was still the element of control within me. I still wanted to influence the outcome. I still wanted to do everything in my power to make. it. happen. I joined twitter to start tweeting about my book using hashtags out the wazoo, I e-mailed friends and family, I posted it to facebook, I pinged complete strangers who I thought might be interested, I prayed (and prayed, and prayed), I tried the whole “Abraham Hicks deal” of feeling what it would be like to get my campaign successfully funded. I felt gratitude for all the contributions pouring in and felt what it be like to have more. Yes, it all worked to a degree, but you know, nothing does the trick like surrender. Honestly, all these methods may work for other people but time and again the universe has shown me I just need to SURRENDER.
Surrender is a recurring theme for me because it’s the antithesis of my personality, which is extremely controlling. I like to plan for everything. I’m the girl who carries around hand sanitizer just in case! So perhaps it makes sense the ultimate answer for me is always the complete opposite of my innate nature. As I type that a little voice whispers, “Surrender is your innate nature – your ego’s desire to control isn’t. That’s what you’re here to remember.” Perhaps that’s why the title of this post is, “If it ain’t broke. . .” because surrender works for me. It always has. So why do I keep trying other things first?!? Probably because in some ways (all ways?) surrender is the hardest thing for me.
I’m rambling a bit because, well, it’s 11:42 p.m. and I’m flying to the middle of the country tomorrow, but I guess I want to say I’d like surrender to be my first choice. Because when I surrendered this campaign, when I said to myself, “I let it go and let it flow. I let God take care of it,” in that moment, that very moment my future sister-in-law e-mailed me a blogpost she wrote mentioning my campaign, I had a new backer for my book, AND a complete stranger e-mailed me out of the blue and said, “Your story and book I feel will inspire others and touch lives in a positive way … I feel it has that energy and I wish you the best of luck with it!” I know it was the exact moment I surrendered because I happened to glance at the clock when I did. I don’t know how many people will back my project or quite how this will all turn out but that’s the point of surrender – I’m turning it over to a power greater than myself to handle.
I dream of a world where we continue to use the tools that work for us. A world where we let go and let God. A world where we do our best and then turn over the consequences. A world where we accept there is only so much we can do and the rest is out of our hands. A world where we let whatever will be, be. In essence, a world where we learn the value of surrender.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.