BECOMING CLOSER TO WHO WE ARE MEANT TO BE

We've all said it:  "I need to steal some time for myself." Sadly, that is the word we use:  steal.  As if we aren't worth it.   

As if work, errands, email, appointments--just about anything we can think of--are worth more than we.  Not true.  The time we take for ourselves should be sacred.  What happens during these times?  We relax and recuperate.  We become inspired and think creatively.  We renew our bodies and connect with nature.  We follow educational and pleasurable pursuits.  We solve problems, we reach flow states.  We even, praise be, find inner peace.  We become that much closer to who we are meant to be.  

There are negative lessons we think we learn through pain and loss.  Not to trust, for example.  Or to expect the worst.  Or that we're not valued.  These "pseudo-lessons" I will call them, often arise out of mistreatment or betrayal by those who owe us more, such as a parent or partner.  But they are pseudo lessons because they are not valid. Repeat:  not valid. They don't lead us to who we are meant to be. 

One untrustworthy person does not make trusting too risky.  Even a string of bad experiences does not make the next experience more likely to be bad.  (In fact, it makes it more likely to be good.)  Feeling undeserving of happiness, love or security is evidence of a problem in someone else, not in you or me.  The fault is with whatever or whomever made us feel that way, whether it is a toxic substance or a toxic person.

But what about the lessons we're taught through happy surprises and spontaneity?  My knitting group has been worried about a friend who has been absent; a lot going on with her that she might label bad experiences.  When she showed up, she gave the group a lift. We know we are meant to there for each other and her presence made that more possible. 

I thought a recent weekend would be lonely.  As much as I love puttering, I wanted a bit of socializing.  Then our granddaughter and family accepted a last-minute Friday night invite to supper.  I thought they'd be too busy.  A friend and her husband suggested a potluck for Saturday and some TV.  Our ex-son-in-law's mother called and said our shared grandsons would be with her on Sunday and we should join them.  Imagine, we are still good friends with our ex-son-in-law's mother.  How fortuitous is that? 

What do I learn from these surprises?  Perhaps that the gentlest lessons teach us the most. That the unexpected is usually something good, not bad.  That someone's spontaneity, yours or mine, may bring happiness to ourselves and others.  That being alone and following our own heart or being with others and listening to theirs, both bring joy.  Aren't these small things making us closer to who we are meant to be?