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We’re taught that not knowing the answer is not a good thing. From first grade on, we’re marked on what we know. To surrender to the unknown, to accept there is more that we can’t explain than what we can, runs counter to our cultural conditioning.
The dance of delicate balance between will and surrender does not come choreographed.
I’m very good at planning, organizing, and making things happen. Yet, one of the teachings during my post-crash era was to acknowledge that the things I can orchestrate may not be in my soul’s best interests. The surest way to be of greatest service is to get out of my own way.
A successful (however that’s defined) book tour doesn’t just happen on its own, though, my mind tells me.
As much as I hate to admit it, the outcomes I can influence are limited. The last few years have taught me that whenever a door closes (or doesn’t even open) it’s because better opportunities await. I need to leave space to recognize gifts that come my way and for the inevitable serendipity I’ve come to expect, especially when I’m out on the road.
Already while planning the Long Road Home tour, so many wonderful, magical events have unfolded without my input, other than being available and asking questions. Even while composing this post, an amazing invitation landed in my inbox.
I catch myself when my planner mind goes into overdrive, a state it knows well. Make plans but hold them lightly. It’s the only way to maintain that delicate balance that opens the door to infinite possibilities.
Related post: Porcupine Wisdom and Speeding Through Life