Dear Lena,
There's no reason to have faith.
Our minds destroy it.
There's no reason to believe that it is all happening in the right way, that we are safe to let go and open to the new.
There's no reason to believe that we can follow our hearts and it will be alright.
But sometimes I have the wherewithall to believe in my life, as it is, and to really say Yes to who I am now and what my life looks like now. It takes an incredible amount of courage and effort to say yes. And to Have Faith that what is happening is the right happening.
There's a big part of me kicking and screaming that this is Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. That I did it Wrong.
But that part gets nowhere. Really nowhere. Its just a person in a dark room, sobbing and pounding at an unlocked door.
I have to live believing, irrationally, that things are happening as they are meant to. Even with as much pain as they contain. So much separation in a lifetime. So much loss for each one of us.
But also, in every stranger, in every barista, in every person stuck in traffic, is this undying impulse to love each other. And to love ourselves. It is who we are. To love instead of resist.
Love and grief are just about the same.
But how am I going to remember to have faith. Instead of destroying things with my doubt?
It becomes so clear and then I get fogged over again with this sense of tragic loss and regret and fear and dread. Then the fears feel more real than the love! And I start frantically planning and protecting and freaking the fuck out.
I forget that love is letting go.
Lena. Let's remember.
Raining so beautiful now.
Nora
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Work
Dear Lena,
Two and a half years later now. I can see why I was struggling. I felt like work shouldn't be work. That things should dovetail together and feel aligned, completely.
Its not the way I feel now. Work is work. Maybe 50% of the time you hate it. Also, you just do what you are called to do, not what you want to do.
Also, write one book at a time. Just one. Put the other books you want to write on a list on the wall. They will still be there in 5 years when you are ready to write them. I'm starting this business. There's no turning back now. I'm starting it until it is done. I doubt myself constantly. Doubt that this is the right decision. Doubt that it will take me to the right place. Doubt that I will ever be happy doing it. I tell myself that I should be doing grief work, or midwifery, or work with battered women, or helping people who can't conceive. I should be doing Chinese medicine. I should be doing nutrition, healing. I should be in school. I tell myself that I am following exactly in my father's footsteps, though my whole motivation was to avoid them. That I, like him, will end up in a nowhere job, hating it, hating things, feeling cynical and slowly poisoned. Its like a chorus in my head, chanting. Chanting against the decision I've made. Always sprinting for the exit. But, having lived like that for a long time--I'm now 29--I'm not taking these doubts as seriously as I once did. They would be there no matter what path I took. In my relationship, they doubted my relationship. Out of it, they now howl about how good it could have been. IF ONLY I had done just this different. I think the key is to let in some sadness. Let in some loss. Let in some solemnity. That's how building this business feels to me now. And it is punctuated by moments of excitement and clarity, when I feel really good about building a dream that was born inside my head years ago. But a lot of it is just showing up at my little "vintage" (in the words of the Apple store guy) laptop each Monday and Wednesday and working. Working on tasks that have nothing to do with my power as a healer or with my natural gifts. I scan the internet for advice on how to set up a business email, what to make of the LLC, SPC, DLG, OMG, LOL business license hoo ha. I sit here, for many hours, and I try to figure that stuff out. I take photos of the art I used to make, put it on the website. And every once in a while, I call an herbalist, make a commitment to him that terrifies me, and learn a little something about herbs. But the Expectation to enjoy this is gone. And that is solemn, a little sad, a little scary, and also quite grounding. I feel more relaxed. It opens up the space for me to complete things without squeezing them through the tiny enjoyment key hole. What if I expanded that philosophy to my whole life? Took the pressure off of myself to ENJOY IT. Like everybody else seems to be doing. What if it wasn't about enjoying it? That just feels like a tremendous amount of pressure. I've heard that life is about helping people, and that seems right to me. But it's also vaguely defined. What feels good to me, the purpose of my life right now, is just to build toward my goals and to value my truth above my fear. Love, Nora
Two and a half years later now. I can see why I was struggling. I felt like work shouldn't be work. That things should dovetail together and feel aligned, completely.
Its not the way I feel now. Work is work. Maybe 50% of the time you hate it. Also, you just do what you are called to do, not what you want to do.
Also, write one book at a time. Just one. Put the other books you want to write on a list on the wall. They will still be there in 5 years when you are ready to write them. I'm starting this business. There's no turning back now. I'm starting it until it is done. I doubt myself constantly. Doubt that this is the right decision. Doubt that it will take me to the right place. Doubt that I will ever be happy doing it. I tell myself that I should be doing grief work, or midwifery, or work with battered women, or helping people who can't conceive. I should be doing Chinese medicine. I should be doing nutrition, healing. I should be in school. I tell myself that I am following exactly in my father's footsteps, though my whole motivation was to avoid them. That I, like him, will end up in a nowhere job, hating it, hating things, feeling cynical and slowly poisoned. Its like a chorus in my head, chanting. Chanting against the decision I've made. Always sprinting for the exit. But, having lived like that for a long time--I'm now 29--I'm not taking these doubts as seriously as I once did. They would be there no matter what path I took. In my relationship, they doubted my relationship. Out of it, they now howl about how good it could have been. IF ONLY I had done just this different. I think the key is to let in some sadness. Let in some loss. Let in some solemnity. That's how building this business feels to me now. And it is punctuated by moments of excitement and clarity, when I feel really good about building a dream that was born inside my head years ago. But a lot of it is just showing up at my little "vintage" (in the words of the Apple store guy) laptop each Monday and Wednesday and working. Working on tasks that have nothing to do with my power as a healer or with my natural gifts. I scan the internet for advice on how to set up a business email, what to make of the LLC, SPC, DLG, OMG, LOL business license hoo ha. I sit here, for many hours, and I try to figure that stuff out. I take photos of the art I used to make, put it on the website. And every once in a while, I call an herbalist, make a commitment to him that terrifies me, and learn a little something about herbs. But the Expectation to enjoy this is gone. And that is solemn, a little sad, a little scary, and also quite grounding. I feel more relaxed. It opens up the space for me to complete things without squeezing them through the tiny enjoyment key hole. What if I expanded that philosophy to my whole life? Took the pressure off of myself to ENJOY IT. Like everybody else seems to be doing. What if it wasn't about enjoying it? That just feels like a tremendous amount of pressure. I've heard that life is about helping people, and that seems right to me. But it's also vaguely defined. What feels good to me, the purpose of my life right now, is just to build toward my goals and to value my truth above my fear. Love, Nora
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