Let Go

Let Go (My version of Swingin')

I've come to trust not that events will always unfold exactly as I want, but that I will be fine either way. - Marianne Williamson

As soon as I saw the above quote  this morning, it spoke to my heart in a special way. It's one of those God-sent messages that feel like a butterfly quietly and briefly resting on my shoulders but speaking to me long after it has left.  The message seems to be God's re-assurance amidst the unsettling invitation I seem to be called to. I know from the deepest corners of my heart that I'll be fine wherever this invitation brings me, but my head is working with all its might to discourage me (or at least to magnify my doubts).  

The job calls for psychosocial support for torture survivors.  Isn't this what I say I want?  For poverty and oppression to have a real face and story to me in order to rekindle my passion to work for the poor and the marginalised again.  I don't want a desk job where I deal with nothing but reports and spreadsheets - not for now! Yet, why do I get anxious at the prospect of going to an urban poor community known for rampant human rights violations?  I said I wanted to have a minimalist life, a life that will allow me to do things of meaning and worth to the wider world.  But why do I cringe at the thought of traveling to communities and prisons in regular public transport?  Can I still survive the daily commute to the urban jungle? My internalised voices of some colleagues see the job as some kind of a demotion as the post is not a management role and the small NGO will certainly not be able to pay even half of what I used to receive. There's no denying I have those voices inside but I am more than those voices for an even louder and stronger voice is saying that I'm not crafted for social and career ladders;  I have always loved spiral movements.  So why the  strong ambivalence at so early a stage in the application process? 

A part of me is scared of getting the core of what I had asked for minus the trimmings and comforts I had been so used to. Another part seems ambivalent about walking the talk of living the simple life.  I want to explore new territories but I can't seem to let go of my grip on the shore.  

Deep inside, my soul says, "Let go. Be that child in the swing.  Allow yourself the pleasure of reaching farther than where you are."  Even my body seems to be telling me the same thing.  My painful arms which during meditation feel like driftwood seem to say, "Cut off from the functional self you've identified with over the years.  It's time to learn to express yourself through your heart. It's time to explore new ways of expressing your creative self."

God has been blessing me richly with assurance that I will never be alone, that when I make the leap, She will hold my hand and be there with and for me. How timely that today also happens to be the feast of the Visitation - when Mary visited her cousin Elisabeth in solidarity during the challenging months of her pregnancy; how Mary stayed for months, and not just for days, to be with Elisabeth and help her through childbirth.  This is a beautiful image of accompaniment and an assurance that help will always be there when I need it. 

How re-assuring that this same meditation was where the Spirit led me when, 20 years ago around the same time of the year, I was faced with the dilemma of going back to my former job with its comforts and security, and of moving forward to a job that didn't promise financial security but which opened opportunities to bring to life my dream of doing work that puts together Psychology and Spirituality.  I of course chose the latter and my life was never the same again. Back then I wouldn't have imagined the life and blessings waiting for me. It was beyond me to think I could accomplish what I had and the growth I was capable of.  All these things I can only appreciate now on hindsight. So, I guess the invitation is, as Fr. Bu would tell us at the end of each hypnotherapy session, "Lundag!"