I have a wonderful life. It recently occurred to me that to get here I have had to let go of just about everything I ever thought I wanted. I am grateful for all the changes, but they weren’t easy. I have moved many times, and left behind not just houses, but neighborhoods, even cities and states, and, sadly, friendships. I have had to re-evaluate my role in the world, as mother, wife, teacher, student, dreamer, professional, girlfriend, partner, because the ways in which I planned to fill those roles did not come about. I have cried — oh, how I have cried!– over the losses. And still, I am really, really happy.
My life is emphatically not what I dreamt of when I was a child. But in many ways, it is richer and more filled with potent possibility than I ever would have believed. And the older I get, the happier I become, because I know enough to know that there is more of me than I had imagined. Though this life has been a process of constant letting go, I am sure I am better because of it.
Still, sometimes I find myself ruminating with regret. And through experiment, I have found that Alfred Adler, the pioneering psychotherapist, was right: we can help ourselves by helping others. My best days are my busiest. And because of my work, I am constantly reminded that we humans share the common bond of struggle and pain. I am blessed with a belief that pain has purpose. I even believe I know what that purpose is.
I am deeply convicted of the fact of our inherent divinity, that we are God in form. And here is the rub: When we become immersed in form, we forget who we really are. All of the stuff of life is temporary; life itself is temporary. But, as A Course in Miracles states so beautifully, we “dwell not here, but in eternity”.
With every painful experience of letting go– every relinquishment, every release– my soul is gently reminding me to distinguish the unreal from the real; to focus my attention on transcendent values rather than ephemeral roles; to be less concerned with the vagaries of my personal life and instead simply to trust.
I haven’t really got it yet. However, it is apparent that I–that we– have no choice but to see it through, and I am determined to do so with as much grace as I can. “Resistance is futile,” as my Higher Self, with such a great sense of humor, tells me. And so dedication to the path emerges as my only goal. I believe I am the soul; I want to know it. 💫