One of my clients spoke to me this week of a longing that emerged in her, out of nowhere, to say a big ‘yes’ to everything. And it wouldn’t disappear. She couldn’t put the genie back in the bottle.
This impulse to let go of the struggle, the ongoing ‘no,’ has nothing to do with falling into passivity. This ‘yes’ is the totally natural way of presence, the freedom of our open awareness.
This longing often comes when we finally begin to see how high the cost has been of our ‘no’, our resistance to life, to the people around us, and to ourselves.
We may read a lot of wisdom, and listen to a lot of teachings, but it’s not so easy to wake up from this belief that we need to control, to manipulate, and to struggle. It seems to be part of what we all inherit as we grow up. A belief that an adult is in control of life. We are all swimming around in the big ocean of this idea, floundering around together, grappling with this wild, uncontrollable thing called our life.
And then something happens, like the small child in the story of ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes’, who sees what no-one else is willing to see. Perhaps a small and innocent voice within us begins to whisper, “This is not working. There must be some other way to live.” From out of nowhere comes this invitation-- to consider the futility of all the ways we have been trying to control and manipulate our life.
This is the gateway that appears for each one of us, when real transformation is at hand. We allow ourselves, finally, to feel the price we have paid for our fierce grip on the steering wheel. Just before major shifts happen, many people dream of careening down a highway in a car that’s out of control. They are gripping the wheel and trying to steer the car with all their might, but to no effect.
Bit by bit, the possibility of another way of being starts to emerge. Perhaps for the first time.
Like a lifesaver for the one who is drowning in this wild ocean. A glimpse of reality, an inkling that life is never going to be the way I thought it would be. It’s not going to align with my preferences and demands, my needs to avoid, to hold on, to know what is happening.
I may have many fantasies about how things should be. Now I realize, often with a shock, that life doesn’t come with a guarantee, with a refund policy, if things don’t work out. I begin to taste the medicine of disillusionment. It’s a strong medicine and a good one, if I really want to be free, if I want to love life as it is, if I want to be fully alive.