Real talk — not me. Really, I don't know. Sometimes feeling better looks like feeling worse. Sometimes growth and expansion look a lot like total mayhem and chaos. Which is it? All, none.
Things that everyone says are "good" turn out to be "bad" (side note: never a good idea to listen to "everyone" in the first place). Things that appear to be nightmares end up saving my life. People I thought would be there with me forever, left, but first connected me to a few forever soulmate friends, or helped me move cities to where I needed to be, or helped me learn something vital about myself. It's always different than I would've guessed in the moment. I am always surprised to see how it shakes out — “holy shit, who knew *that* was what this was going to be?! Thank you, thank you, thank you." I never know. And there is so much more space in not knowing than in trying to figure it out, tightly control it, make it mean something every step of the way. .
This applies to all the things, but especially each of our personal self-healing experiences. We can't know how anything is going to end up. We can't see the possibilities expanding, the processes accelerating under the radar, the infinite connections unfolding, not now. We can't see the forest yet. But we keep going, guided by curiosity and intuition and trust. .
I never get tired of the story of the taoist farmer as told by #alanwatts .
"There was a farmer whose horse ran away. That evening the neighbors gathered to commiserate with him since this was such bad luck. He said, “May be.”
The next day the horse returned, but brought with it six wild horses, and the neighbors came exclaiming at his good fortune. He said, “May be.”
And then, the following day, his son tried to saddle and ride one of the wild horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. Again the neighbors came to offer their sympathy for the misfortune. He said, “May be.” .
The day after that, conscription officers came to the village to seize young men for the army, but because of the broken leg the farmer’s son was rejected. When the neighbors came in to say how fortunately everything had turned out, he said, “May be."”