Over the last 36 hours, I’ve stepped in dog shit (and spread it all over the house and into the carpet), spilled coffee twice, rolled my ankle, ripped my pants, and skinned my knee.
The last three items and one of the coffee spills happened in one epic fall this morning, where I stepped out of my house carrying my violin, a cup of hot coffee, and E’s stuffed animal, “Tigy.” E was in the car waiting for me to buckle him in. I landed wrong while traveling down our front stoop only to roll my ankle; throw my violin, coffee, and Tigy; skin my knee; and rip my pants. E ran to my side, I assumed for a fleeting moment to help me, and screamed, “Mommy, you burned Tigy and he is crying!”
I said, “MOMMY is crying!”
Its been one of those weeks already.
Yesterday morning I woke up with Gavin DeGraw’s “Still Not Over You” in my head:
If you ask me how I’m doing
I would say I’m doing just fine
I would lie and say that you’re not on my mind
But I go out and I sit down at a table set for two
And finally I’m forced to face the truth,
No matter what I say I’m not over you, not over you
That’s an interesting song choice, Universe. I don’t even particularly enjoy that song. What am I not over, hmmm?
Weren’t you there when I wrote about how I let everything go and I AM ALL GOOD NOW?
And finally I’m forced to face the truth, no matter what I say (or write about) I’m still not over it.
And I’m so over not being over it.
I’m really ready to be over it. In fact my rational mind is completely over it.
I am ready to let go and surrender to my fate in all aspects of my life; and particularly in my “trigger” areas of finances and female friendships…
And still the emotional pains linger…
Come on, Kelli, can’t you just get over it and let go already? Its not fun for anyone when you feel this way. Its not like feeling this way brings you any closer to the fulfillment of your desires. In fact it probably pushes them away.
And yet here I am. Fucking life seems so arbitrary and unfair sometimes. Its not like we ever get to this plateau where everything is all good, do we? I can almost picture it – money in the bank, debt paid off, buns of steel, writing non-lawyer stuff for a living, happy husband, fulfilling female friendships, a well-behaved E, dishes are done, house is clean, (and finished and organized), all my car’s little blemishes are repaired, awesome travel plans all lined up …
would I be happy then?
Or would I find some other unfulfilled desire upon which to pin my sense of frustration?
The day before yesterday, E had a full-blown screaming, crying tantrum about a chocolate bar. And then it was about apple juice, and then it was about watching tv. It was all the same tantrum, but the focus of his torment kept shifting. I saw that he is a victim of his circumstances and has very little control over his reality. He can’t just eat a chocolate bar, drink apple juice, or watch tv if he wants to. That decision is up to someone else, and the decision probably often seems very arbitrary and unfair from his almost-four-year-old perspective.
As an adult I am much more sophisticated with my tantrums, but the mechanism is the same – frustration takes over when life serves me up something which seems to me arbitrary and unfair, and I look for something external to blame for feelings. In reality, its the rules of the game I am pissed off at – specifically the fact that, just like my four year old, I have very little control over the circumstances and emotions that make their way into my daily existence.
Ram Dass describes similar moments of frustration with his guru, Maharaji. From my perspective, the guru is just a metaphor for the God-essence in all of us, and an earthly guru is someone in whom we can clearly see and connect with this essence. Maharaji in this scenario is the vehicle by which Ram Dass learned the same lesson I am now learning:
I said, “Maharaji, you aren’t being fair.” And I proceeded to tell him of these new devotees who couldn’t see him. When I finished my explanation I sat back on my haunches, waiting. I guess I felt I deserved an explanation and was waiting for one. After all, Maharaji wasn’t living up to the rules in my guru guidebook.
He looked at me quizzically, looked at Dada as if he didn’t understand, then he reached forward and gave a yank at my beard and said, “Ah, Ram Dass is angry.” That was all. And then he looked directly into my eyes and we held the gaze.
During those moments I saw clearly my predicament. Maharaji had not acted “rationally” or at any rate “fairly,” and he wasn’t apologizing for it, either. I had a choice. I could get up and walk out of the room and leave him, in which case I would be left with my righteousness, but no guru. Or I could surrender to his irrationality and unfairness, knowing that he knew and I didn’t. I bowed down, touched my head to his feet, and surrendered again.
And so it goes. Life often seems unfair, irrational and arbitrary. Especially when I want something and I don’t appear to be getting it. What is there to do but to surrender?
And even though I have mentally committed to letting go, I must surrender to the fact that I’m not quite there yet emotionally.
I’m a work in progress.
There is a line between letting something go and cutting it off completely. It is actually easier to cut a source of frustration out of our lives with righteousness then it is to let it go with love.
And we can’t give up on our dreams, can we? No, that won’t work. Like we discussed last Friday, that might even block us from receiving abundance in unexpected ways.
And let’s not forget the prophetic message from Flashdance, which I saw for the first time this past weekend:
Don’t you understand? if you give up your dream, you die.
So I guess I just have to be where I am and give myself some time and space to heal rather than trying to force myself to just LET IT GO ALREADY.
The good news is that I have been writing every day, and I made a big chain of Xs, just like Jerry Seinfeld recommends:
And I just finished my billion dollar bracket,
I feel a little better already.