What if you knew you were fully supported by life?

What if you knew you were fully supported by life? October 26, 2015

Have you ever felt like you were battling against life, that life, somehow, “had it in” for you? That, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t “make” something happen?

Me too.

Then I started imagining a new paradigm. It started with this question:

What if I believed I was fully supported by life?

That’s one of those head-snapping shifts of perspective. How could that be, if things weren’t happening the way I’d planned, if I felt exhausted and like I was fighting an uphill battle–that life was SUPPORTING ME? I guess that would mean, hmmm–that maybe my picture of how things were supposed to be was, shall we say, flawed…?

Because if life actually knows what it’s doing–if it turns out that the force of nature is much more vast than that of the human mind, that it’s in charge of ocean tides and atmospheric pressure shifts and the design of a mountain range and the life cycle of a rose–maybe my job is different from what I’d thought. Maybe it’s time I paid attention to what it was trying to tell me, instead of putting up my dukes to fight with it, make it wrong. Maybe if I became life’s ally, I’d be partnering with the most powerful energy imaginable.

This shift in perspective has entirely changed how I move through life. Before, my focus was on trying to figure out what was wrong and then fix it.* My bike tire was flat? Well, I sure hadn’t planned well, had I?! Someone didn’t do what they said they’d do? I’d better speak to them, shame them a little so that they understood the impact on me so that wouldn’t happen again. We took a wrong turn? Oh NO! We’ll be late! What will they think??

Notice how this way of living creates an urgency, a rather “Chicken Little” way of approaching life, always waiting for the sky to fall.** And from that urgency, look at the eventual next step: Trying to figure out who is to blame.

Now, when something happens, I watch for how is life supporting me.  I take a moment to breathe and look around, searching for the hidden prize. The flat tire becomes a way to stop and check out the scenery, maybe experience someone’s generosity in stopping to help me. The broken agreement allows me to wonder about my unconscious commitments, or gives me a nudge about changing the timing of the action I thought “should” occur. The wrong turn? Well, what is “wrong” anyway? What’s out there in those lesser-explored realms?

Overall, instead of my old experience of striving for perfectionism (mostly so I wouldn’t have to kick myself when I made a “mistake”), I now relax a lot more, feeling around for flow. I breathe and expand into space, which then leads to breathing into life itself, finding the path back to being allies.

Ahhhhh.

So–what do you think? Want to try something different besides fighting with reality?

OK, take a moment and ask yourself:

What would change if I believed I was fully, totally supported by life?

Close your eyes. Dream into that question. What if you could relax, knowing that all is well, that life has your back? That it’s taking you to places that are so much more amazing than you could ever have dreamed of?

For me, that’s a stunner. It would mean that everything I’ve  labeled “wrong”–the relationships that turned out badly, the accidents, illnesses and deaths I’ve experienced, the catastrophes and calamities that I and humanity have been through–that it was all perfect. That life actually was in charge, that flow was evolving me–all of us–to a higher level of consciousness.

I know now that living in integrity and in alignment with my values and life purpose allows me to be carried along by powerful, invisible energies. Like a well-made ship, raising my sails and having an idea of where I want to go means I get to co-create with the infinite creative force that is life.

What a ride.

 

*That is one of the hallmarks of being in “Narrow Focus”–see information on Les Fehmi’s concept of Open Focus here.

**Here’s a link to that story–notice how it ends!


Browse Our Archives