I plan, everything. I see the connections, everywhere. I play with the world around me, as if it were all legos. Click, click, click, and isn’t that nice! In breaking news, it appears the world is not my lego pad, and boy is that awkward.
I haven’t prayed since late elementary school, when I did it obsessively for a while because I wanted a certain boyfriend. So, this week when I dug a dusty old Jesus candle from my blasphemous husband’s stash, and lit it, I wasn’t sure what Jesus would think. Frankly, it just happened really fast, in the midst of some tough thoughts.
I wasn’t asking for anything, and I didn’t intend to go spiritual in that moment in the kitchen. I just needed help for a minute, to let it all be bigger than me, and out of my control. I needed to surrender, and tap into the greater order of reality unfolding around, and separate from, me. I needed to stop grasping, drop all agendas, and break into a place of grace and acceptance.
I needed to feel the relief that returns when I am able to remember, whether good or bad: That which is taking place around me is exactly as it should be. I needed to reestablish a kind of hope that isn’t all scribbled upon by what I think should happen. And I needed to be able to see that even when things are not the way I’d hoped, there is still so much possible.
A few days before that, I’d caught my mind sneak-thinking about some things. I, Tanya, was not thinking about those things. I, Tanya, was driving. I was quietly, calmly, focused on driving. Sneak-mind, however, was fabricating some wild and outlandish stories.
But I caught ol’ sneak-mind, and now, I know what it is plotting. So, when it starts to whisper click, I can tell it, softly, to stop trying to force feed the universe what that little sweet part of me thinks it needs. I can remind it to wait, and let the universe ask.
I can remind myself it’s easier that way, even though clutching at the controls feels more familiar. It’s terrifying to relax that death grip, little by little. Then, one day, it’s not, because when all we have to do is wait, we are freed up to live, and play, and rest.
And when we are living, playing, and resting more, we can actually hear the universe when it calls us, and that is a lovely surprise. That is the day we get to blow our little candle out, and walk out into the sun, and pour everything we have into answering.
I don’t know if my candle helped, but I am not playing with the legos as much. I am not hearing any sneak-beasts, and I am happier and more relaxed. And yes, the universe has already been talking to me, and I am being asked to shine.
