The timer is set. Well, it’s actually the alarm on my phone, but same idea. I have fifteen minutes to sit here and do whatever I want on the computer. Before this, I sat for ten minutes, noticing the million things I might reach out and grasp for in the space between trapeze bars, the space between breaths, between “one” and “two.”
Over the past few weeks, I have unsubscribed from dozens of email lists. Random hotel and travel offers, sweepstakes for trips to Hawaii, online forums with inspirational people, local deals, seeing the effects of my inbox slowly emptying of ways to win, or get ahead, or market myself. Little by little, what remains are messages from people I actually know.
The daily Note from the Universe is one of the only ones I’ve decided to keep. I know lots of people get the very same one everyday, just as all of us wake up and pee in the morning, make our tea or coffee, and splash water on our faces.
Persistent thought is your ticket.
Persistent gratitude makes it easy.
And persistent action, Jena, tells one and all, “There ain’t no way, honey, I’m settling for less.”
I notice these things.
Persistent action is a lifelong habit, the way I have learned to confront periods of change and uncertainty. And that last line speaks to me. Doing and doing–persistent action–can also have a kind of flinging quality if it isn’t balanced with returning to the quiet and rightness of simply being.
And as I write, I am realizing I completely misinterpreted these words. I think they were intended to mean that persistent action communicates an unwillingness to settle.
What I read was that persistent action communicates grasping, a willingness to settle for anything, and fear. Fear that if I stop doing, nothing will happen. I might sink into paralysis.
I’m pretty sure the Universe won’t mind my taking the liberty of reading these words in the way they spoke to my heart, which is to say that stillness and non-action are the soil where movement takes root.
I have put a lot out there in the past few days, both on paper and online, in terms of coaching and housing and ideas about how to shape what’s next.
Now it is time to unsubscribe from some of the doing. To sink not into stuckness but into savasana, receiving and incorporating the benefits of my practice, giving over some of the action to forces greater than my mind and my ability to “make things happen.”
Gratitude for what is–this is the fertile terrain of living in faith.