For most of December,
I screamed silent prayers into the void,
Desperate for more control.
My fist was tightly clenched around an idea I had about life,
But life was not following my lead.
The uncertainties and life's refusal to cooperate were wearing me out.
A series of frustrating speed bumps left me literally screaming,
Releasing,
Alone in the forest.
Yet the balance of it all is that,
On many days,
With the clarity of hindsight,
I delight in the unknowns.
I relish life's beautiful mysteries.
I've come to understand that softening my grip is the way,
That vying for control only limits possibilities.
The way things might have turned out if they'd gone according to my plan usually seems like a ridiculous oversight.
On days where perspective returns,
My plan appears dim and narrow.
It falls flat.
The plan has been far more interesting than anything I could have concocted.
As the plan unfolds,
I find what I never could have imagined.
The plan shocked me when my dad died several years back,
Not because it was a torturous night of the soul,
Or because I wished things had turned out differently,
But because it wasn't the way things were supposed to be.
He was healthy,
Wrestled monstrous demons in his life,
And came through the other side.
He made mistakes,
Learned,
Valued the outdoors,
Devoted to his grandkids,
Created community,
Ate well,
Far from perfect,
But he had come far.
However,
When he left his body,
I wasn't mad.
I didn't bargain.
I was mostly surprised,
Stunned,
In awe of how quickly things changed,
Humbled by the sudden twist of the plan.
And surprisingly,
I felt ready when my father's death arrived.
On more than one occasion,
I quietly giggled at its sense of humor.
It wasn't supposed to happen to me.
My person wasn't supposed to die so soon.
But I let it be.
My hands were open to what the plan was teaching me.
Looking back at other pivotal moments,
None of it went according to my plan,
A crystal meth habit,
Leaving home at 17,
Dropping out of university,
Finishing a bachelor's degree only to become a yoga teacher to my parents' dismay,
Taking long breaks from communicating with family,
Numerous miscarriages.
All these painful plot twists were part of the plan.
They prepared me for more.
They taught me how to let go and trust.
They showed me that supposed to is an illusion,
And that all experiences are perfectly temporary.
So when my father left this earth overnight,
I didn't waste my time screaming into the void.
Each previous twist had taught me to be surprised by and curious about change,
Rather than claim nothing.
Each moment of uncertainty had shown me that I had a choice.
The plan was never about a perfectly contrived path towards perfection.
It was always guiding me back to myself,
My autonomy,
My power,
My truth.
Life will never be perfect,
And that's okay.
That's how it needs to be.
My only real control lies in showing up and choosing to surrender to the plan.
December was hard.
I don't know what will result from the U-turn of events,
But I do know that I was resistant.
It was hard to surrender my plan.
I know that I made it harder on myself,
Because my plan took my energy and emotions outward,
Focused on the mistakes of others,
Obsessed with confusing inner arguments,
Looking back at what-ifs,
Wishing my dad could be around for camaraderie and kinship.
I forgot about the plan.
I forgot its distinct capacity for serving up necessary hiccups,
Challenges,
And changes.
I forgot to nurture my own nervous system,
To honor my body's messages,
To look within kindly,
To celebrate what is true and real in the moment,
And to give myself permission to feel.
I forgot.
I forgot how deeply insightful and impactful previous times of not having things go my way had been.
I forgot that nothing lasts forever,
The disappointment,
The sorrow,
The darkness.
It does,
However,
Seem to linger when we forget.
The plan's path has been a lesson in letting life flow in its temporary cycles,
In letting deaths and rebirths come and go,
In choice,
In letting my rigid ideas about timelines transmute and transform.
The death of my father may have initially been met with more grace and open hands than I met December with,
But I still remembered and came back.
I remembered all the times life showed me that my plan is small,
Fragile,
Fleeting,
And that the plan is vast,
Patient,
Unfolding beyond my sight.
Things might not go your way,
But they will go,
Unfolding,
Undoing,
Remaking everything you thought you needed.
