Every morning in my email I get a Thought For The Day from Hazelden; sometimes it echoes what I have already read in my meditation books at home, sometimes it is irrelevant to what is going on with me at that moment, and sometimes it is really a kick in the ass. Today was a kick in the ass kind of day, because it was all about trusting the process. I read it, and read it again, and I thought, “OK, FINE,” to God, rather hostilely (because no matter how much I believe in him and trust him to figure out what is best for me, well, sometimes I don’t. And want to take hold and see if I can manage it by myself. Because that has worked SO well for me in the past, right?). The last line of the meditation was, “The time we most need to trust the journey is when it looks like we can’t,” and that is the part that really hit me. “When it looks like we can’t…”
Story of my life. I mean, really. I have the opposite of the Midas Touch, meaning everything I touch turns into shit instead of gold (and bonus points and undying respect to anyone who knows the book in which I found that!) Which really isn’t true, you know, far from it, but that is how it feels sometimes. And those of you who are regular readers have been privy to a lot of really odd and sometimes terrible events in my life over the last year. It had been a journey, all of it, and in looking back, I can see how much I have learned, and changed, and I hope grown. So why is it so hard to trust that same process now?
It feels like my life is changing again, on a variety of levels. The stress and anger and fear with regards to CF has begun to abate, and while his imminent guilty plea is a good thing, it has also brought up some really conflicting feelings in me. These, I have to deal with, simply because I have no control over the outcome; I never have, of course, but I have been able to mask some of the feelings brought forth by this simply by focusing on what needed to be done and DOING it. Now the time has come to start sorting through all of the different layers of emotions, and move forward with healing for Hannah, for me, for my family. This is a good thing, no doubt-but requires me to resolve some deep-seated issues that I would much prefer to keep buried, thankyouverymuch. Not really, but digging up the past and re-burying it in a more more pleasant and peaceful resting place is hard work, and I am not sure that I am up to the task. This is where trusting the journey really starts coming in to play; trusting that every step I need to take is going to be made known to me, even when it seems really dark and uncertain.
I am also beginning down a different road in other ways, treading a path I never thought to walk again. It is different this time, I am different this time, but that doesn’t stop me from being terrified. I have been down this road before and it led only to heartbreak; can I do this again, holding onto all that I have learned and letting go of past hurts and disappointments? I don’t know the answer to that, so again, I have to trust the journey. Trust the process.
Trust. If I believe in a loving God, which most of the time I do (unless I am pissed off and yelling at him, but even then I know he is there), why is it so hard to trust that I will be given what I need just when I need it? Time and time again, over and over, he has provided me with either the tools or the instruction book or a handyman who totally knows the ropes in order to get to the next step. Every.Single.Time. And yet every time in my life where I am faced with uncertainty or fear, I fail to believe that he will do it again. Talk about a major character defect, this obsessive need I have to be in control! And it isn’t even that so much as it is that I don’t trust that good things will happen to me. I really and truly don’t. Rationally, I know that I am worthy of love, that I am capable of loving, that I have the potential to do great things; at the same time, so much of my life has been, well, NOT like that, that is hard for me to trust that this time things are going to be different. To trust that in my heart of hearts I know what I am doing, that God gave me this heart, this mind, this body to use.
I can do this. I can take each step necessary to move forward, in relation to everything that is changing in my life. I can; I have found reservoirs of strength and power I never knew existed in the last year, and I have found that I can be gentle and forgiving with my love instead of using it as a weapon. I have found that I am weak and needy, but that when I let myself, I can have friends who will left me up during those times. I have found, too, that it hurts a lot more to carry around anger and bitterness than it does to take risks with a fragile heart; love is so much lighter. I have found a power inside myself that no longer scares me because I don’t have to use it to batter my way through life, but can instead use it the way I am supposed to-to keep moving forward.
And I trust (today at least) that even when the days of doubt and fear and self-loathing and despair arrive-because they are inevitable, part of this thing called life-well, I just trust that they will pass. I trust that I will then be given all I need to see it through and keep getting up to face each day as it comes. I trust the friends that I have-April and Jacquie, Steve and Rob (who called me from TENNESSEE last night on vacation to make sure that Hannah and I were okay), Janet and Camille, and all of you Internet people who are as good of friends as anyone could hope to have in real life AND online-to be there to lift me up when the dark days arrive. To see me through, just like they all have this past year.
Trust the journey. Trust the process. I am on my way.