It’s no secret I’m not doing all that well. Applying for jobs is one of the most demoralizing things a person can do, in my opinion. It’s really getting to me. Not in the sense that I’m questioning my own worth and merit — I know I’m talented and I’m clear I’d be an asset to any company. What’s getting to me is the uncertainty. The question mark of when this will all be over.
People keep telling me, “You’ll get a job,” but no one can say, “You’ll get a job in the next month” because nobody knows. It’s hard to keep putting in effort without seeing payoff. The amount of effort I’m making doesn’t translate into results. It’s not like going to the gym after a couple of weeks and starting to see muscle definition. No. Instead the job thing is more random and haphazard, which is the opposite of my preference. What am I supposed to do here, other than what I already am, which is applying for jobs, writing cover letters, asking for help, networking, etc.? After much struggle, the answer I came to is: Have faith.
This is what faith is like for me — light in the darkness. Photo by Josh Boot on Unsplash.
“Having faith” is difficult for me. It’s such a trite phrase we throw around but what does it actually mean? This weekend I realized I expect faith to be rational. I want it to be scientific and evidence-based. I want proof before I’ll believe. Not getting any interviews right now? Then why should I believe I will in the future? This cautionary sort of faith and trust in my higher power is not working for me. It’s sinking me into a depression, a place where hope disintegrates. It’s pessimistic and it’s dark. But here’s the thing about faith: it’s not rational or scientific or evidence-based. Faith is the opposite of all those things. It’s belief without proof. That’s not just my definition; the dictionary defines faith in the same way.
What does that mean for me? It means I have to actively, consciously, choose to believe my life will change, that I’ll have a steady job again. It means I have to choose to put my trust in the universe that things will get better for me. It means I have to fight against pessimism and hold fast to something else, which is also a part of the meditation I practice.
A Sanskrit phrase for meditation is Iishvara prańidhána, or seeking shelter in the Supreme. My spiritual teacher says, “Iishvara prańidhána also implies implicit faith in [the divine] irrespective of whether one lives in momentary happiness or sorrow, prosperity or adversity.”
Easier said than done my friends. Easier said than done. I don’t live in implicit faith, obviously, but the alternative is becoming too painful. My way isn’t working so it’s time to try something new. For me that means choosing faith. It’s scary and uncomfortable and doesn’t feel at all rational, but it’s not supposed to. That’s what faith is — belief without proof. And right now, faith is what’s getting me through.
I dream of a world where we choose faith even when it seems ridiculous, even when our rational brain says we shouldn’t. A world where we put our trust in something greater than ourselves. A world where we understand faith isn’t a passive thing but instead something active and conscious. A world where faith is what sees us through.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve woken up most mornings this week with swollen eyelids. On Friday I received two job rejections. My unemployment money runs out in a couple of months. I mention all this to set the scene — I’m not feeling all that peaceful, and in fact “anxious” is a better description. Maybe even a little panicked. How is this all going to work out?
When I called a friend and gave him the lowdown, he told me a story about a spiritual master who got caught in a rope while pulling water up from a well. The master stayed stuck for hours until a disciple came by and freed him. The disciple said, “You seemed so relaxed. Were you in pain?” The master replied, “I was in pain, it hurt a lot, but I also felt at peace.”
This picture will make more sense once you keep reading. Photo by Providence Doucet on Unsplash
I spent 20 minutes googling that story and can’t find it so my telling of it is not very adept. What stuck with me though is the moral of the story: that I can still feel at peace in the pain and in the struggle. What does that even mean? I’m not sure but I think it comes down to acceptance, which leads me to a quote I found while searching for the rope story.
Sufi teacher Hazrat Inayat Khan said, “Tagore says: ‘When the string of the violin was being tuned it felt the pain of being stretched, but once it was tuned then it knew why it was stretched.’ So it is with the human soul. While the soul goes through pain, torture, and trouble it thinks it would have been much better if it had gone through life without it. But once it reaches the culmination of it, then, when it looks back, it begins to realize why all this was meant: it was only meant to tune the soul to a certain pitch.”
Before I interviewed for the jobs that ultimately rejected me, I felt peace because I said to myself, “If I’m not employed yet it’s because I’m not meant to be. There’s more learning or healing or something I need to go through that wouldn’t be possible with a job.” When I say that even now I feel better. I don’t know why I’m struggling so much right now. I don’t know why things aren’t looking the way I want them to, but what I do know is one day I’ll look back and understand everything. I’ll see how my soul was being tuned to a certain pitch, but in the meantime, I’m still being stretched.
I dream of a world where we understand even pain has a purpose. A world where we sit with our pain, finding peace where we can. A world where we recognize when we’re going through hardship it may be because our soul is tuning to a certain pitch.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
A note about the audio this week: I ran out of space on Soundcloud and haven’t transferred over to a new location yet. The audio has been recorded but not posted on the new platform. Stay tuned.
This week as I thought about my job search, the image and metaphor that came to mind is being in the womb. A fetus needs time to develop, to grow, to gather strength for the outside world. And if the fetus enters the outside world before that process has completed, well, we all know what happens.
What’s funny about me is I came into the world impatient. I was born three weeks premature — so early I didn’t have fingerprints. Normally that’s a little anecdote I drop when I’m talking to pregnant people, conversing about their baby’s due date. This week though, it sunk in how much my entire life I tend to replicate my birth story. I want to rush the process, I want to do things NOW. Don’t make me wait in the dark, the unknown. Let’s get this show on the road!
Sometimes we need to be “in the womb.” Photo by Alicia Petresc on Unsplash
As I’ve continued to feel gratitude for unemployment, noticing what I’m capable of engaging with due to not working a regular job, I’ve felt safer, calmer. I’ve felt myself floating in the universal womb. I’ve said to friends and family, “Maybe it’s not a matter of the right job so much as the right time.” What I mean is the job is less important than the timing of it all. Maybe the universe wants me to sleep in a little longer, or focus on my health more, or finish up my book before I start working again.
Instead of feeling panicked, which yes, still happens sometimes, I’m imagining myself in the womb, understanding during this period I’m developing, growing, gathering strength for my next adventure.
My spiritual teacher says that “whatever happens in this universe of ours is nothing but an expression of Cosmic desire or Cosmic will … when a human desire and His desire coincide, then only does the human desire become fruitful, otherwise it is a sure failure.”
When I started asking myself, “What does my higher power want of me right now? Why is it that I’m still unemployed from a Cosmic perspective?” I felt better. I left the shame-based, “There’s something wrong with me or my résumé” place. I stopped beating myself up and instead realized maybe my higher power doesn’t want me to be employed yet. And this week especially, maybe my higher power doesn’t want me to be employed yet because I’m like a fetus in the womb, not ready to be in the world. But that doesn’t mean it’s not coming, because it will. Eventually all babies leave the womb, and that means me too.
I dream of a world where we understand if something isn’t happening, perhaps it’s not time for it to happen. A world where we realize even though we’re out in the world doesn’t mean we don’t continue to have periods of going back to a metaphorical womb. A world where we understand the grace and importance of womb time.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.