Have Faith in What Will Be
A couple of weeks ago, In the Rooms.com, a recovery website I like, posted this on Facebook:
“Accept what is, let go of what was and have faith in what will be.”
I could get analytical and reply that it’s not quite that simple, that life complicates the equation. But the truth is that life is doing what life does and I am the complicater. I am a perpetual storyteller and I too often tell myself stories that assume feelings are facts.
Does this sound familiar?
My sensitivity gets all out of whack; then the stories get really juicy. For some reason, night-time becomes the right time for my mind to play its version of whack-a-mole.
I sometimes have trouble finding God during the night. It’s as if I assume s/he is on the sunny side of the world playing with the pretty people and doesn’t have the time or inclination to visit me.
Poor me. What happened to this moment, this blessed now? I want to be jolly and righteously upbeat and happy right now. But sometimes I’m not. What happens then?
Opportunities for practice
What happens is I get to practice sitting in whatever moment I find myself, even if it’s uncomfortable or itchy or downright miserable. I get to practice being with myself even in those moments and then when I’ve had enough, I get to choose to do something different.
I’ve been practicing lately. I sit in my red Ikea chair in the corner of my snug private space. To my left is the hedge of autumn-red and green Texas shrubs and lilacs. To my right are some of the books I love.
At my 1:00 line-of-sight are my framed On the Beam and Off the Beam lists. Off the beam: fear, worry, resentment, check, check and check.
At my knees, curled under a blue blanket, is the gentle rise and fall of my Jazzy’s breathing. I shift my gaze to the On the beam list: hope, love, faith. I can check those things, too.
Practice, it all takes practice. I don’t always want to do what’s good for me. Oh sure, I can have willingness, but without the practice, I get nowhere.
The shift is my goal, and although it may be gradual, even the slightest movement allows me to turn just a little closer to the beam.
How do you know if you’re on the beam or off? Know that falling off is okay, so long as you practice getting back up.
Hugs from Texas on this Mindful Monday.
Photo courtesy of pippalou