What happens when you realize you can't force life?
For the past four years, I have often come back, again and again, to this phrase: TRUST THE TIMING OF YOUR LIFE. Sometimes, it is enough to chill me out, and other times I think I need something more.
It has been, at times, a guiding light, an easeful breath, a reminder of the role trust plays in well-being, and a reconnection to spiritual guides and guardians in times of turmoil. All in all, it has been a life savour. So how come, it is so hard to lean into this trust and just remember that life is happening on its own terms? I know that I am co-creating my life with the world around me and that there is agency at play here, but the truth that is harder to swallow is that there is no amount of forcing I can exercise out of sheer willpower to make my life turn out exactly as I want it to.
Reality is a bitch.
During periods of particular difficulty, it is easy for me to swing the pendulum between these two trains of thought: (1) “Everything is happening as it should and I will be okay and I just got to take it one day at a time and do what I can.” and (2) “This is awful and horrid and I am stuck and scared and mad and sad that things are not turning out the way I wrote them out in my journal in my mid-twenties when life seemed all roses and every damn dream was possible.”
As crazy-making as it may be, the going between these two seeming extremes is such a natural human experience, particularly when life has turned out differently than we ever thought it would, or that we visualized and worked on manifesting for years, the life we worked towards in practical and actionable steps, the one we worked hard for… and it turns out, it is the same life that turned some sharp corner unexpectedly and all we can do is hang on for dear life and pray we don’t fall off the face of the cliff around the bend.
When we live life with hope leading the way, and are faced with unanticipated adversity, suddenly life can feel quite hopeless. We can fall off that edge into doom and gloom quite naturally, especially when we are unable to slow down our pace towards the future we thought we were moving towards. Let’s make it all metaphorical: let’s say you were cruising swiftly towards your dream destination (a future of your longing). You had taken the car to the shop, it was ready for the journey and you took care to check the tires and the oil and all that, quite regularly. You also had packed your necessary belongings and provisions for the journey. Then, you spotted (perhaps quite unexpectedly) a sharp turn in the road. In hindsight, you may realize you saw some signs way back… but at the time you had no need to worry and all signs pointed to carrying on. But here you are: BAM - change of fucking plans. The curve in the road is a great deal sharper than it appears. You know you are going too fast to make it without feeling your stomach come up through your throat in fear and worry and maybe even a “holy shit, am I gonna die?” You step on the break and pull the stirring wheel hard. The car leans to one side. Some of your supplies fall out the windows and you wonder when you hard them down. Everything, including your body and your brain gets jostled in The Great Turn. Shit you didn’t know was in the passenger seat flies up and knocks you in the head making a massive goose egg. You grip the wheel so tightly you form spontaneous blisters on your palms. You hold your breath and a quick little prayer in your heart: Oh God… help. Then… you feel the ricochet and the aftermath of the successful, albite stressful, turn. You try to catch your breath. Other drivers on the road honk at you. You try to focus on regaining your composure and your vision and a heart-rate that won’t have you driving to the hospital. It takes a while to realize you are still holding your breath, and gripping for dear-life. You unclench your jaw and try not to be hard on yourself for not having seen that coming. This part takes a while. Then you look around and the road no longer looks or feels familiar, nor inviting. Where were you going again? Seems that destination no longer exists. Is that possible? You pull over to the shoulder of the road to compose yourself. This takes guts: to stop completely and assess. Everyone else seems to be joyful moving towards their destinations. But you are suddenly lost. You place your palm flat above your brow line and squint into the valley and in the distance. Is that sunny spot, way over there, your destination? But this road doesn’t lead there, you realize with despair. You wish you had an off-road vehicle, or better yet, a set of bomb-ass wings that could fly you there. But no… in reality, you have what you have and nothing else. You realize, you can’t force your way to that sunny spot. You realize, you don’t know where your road is headed any more but you gotta take it anyway - turns out, it is a one way, because you can’t turn back time.
Reality is a bitch.
So you get back into your vehicle. You spend a bit of time taking inventory of the state you and your belongings are in. You sigh out loud. Maybe you swear. Or cry. Or both. Maybe you laugh, because it is so nuts it is comical and you wonder if the world is playing a trick on you. And finally, after what seems like forever, you take a sip of water (cause your therapist always reminds you to stay hydrated in times of stress) and you turn the key in the ignition. You move with more trepidation on the road. Perhaps slower. You try to look extra-attentively for signs about speed limits and destinations, and in between you look for signs from the universe to show you which exit you are supposed to take and where to pull over for rest. You are going where you are going, and you don’t know exactly where, but you know it is not the place you first set out to go, and there is nothing you can do about it because as it turns out, the road is different than any map said and there are surprise bends that come out of nowhere, and paths than shape-shift in broad daylight before your eyes. You cannot force your way through to where you thought you wanted to go. And perhaps this is when you have to connect to the trusting thought that perhaps the universe has other, better, bigger plans for you. You keep your eye out in the horizon for signs to help solidify this kind of hopeful thinking. It pisses rain on you for a couple months and you keep holding out for the eventual shift in weather, and the goddamn rainbow of hope.
The ultimate peace-making with the fact that you can’t force your way through life in the direction you want is a bitter-sweet (if not entirely bitter) pill to swallow. And yet, accepting life as it is instead of stewing sadly over how it “should have” or “could have” been is absolutely necessary to carry on. This is precisely the time that the swinging between hopeless lost-ness and hopeful trust comes into play. This is also, precisely the time that it can be helpful to lean into some helpful thought pattern that restores your faith in your collaborative efforts with the universe to shape the life that is meant for you, even if it is different than the one your imagination could hold. “Trust the timing of your life,” I repeat to myself silently. And then, as an add-on, “Trust the content of your life, also.”
Perhaps this road leads to somewhere even more magnificent than I ever dreamed. Perhaps not. But I’d have a better time getting there if I believe wherever I am headed will greet my soul fully and completely in ways I may not even know to expect or hope for yet.