And I think:
At first glance, it is a bewildering thought. It calls into question both the unspoken agreements we’ve made about life in general, and at the same time gently challenges our willingness to succumb to the “shoulds” of how we live it.
Perhaps this is why failure exists; it’s a shakedown, a (sometimes rude) reminder to recalibrate, to pay attention. It is a forced stumble-and-pause in our intent pursuit of (often misguided) lofty and noble goals.
Listen for what it intends to do with you—and not just once, but again and again and again, listen for the truths and values at the core of your identity, not what you or others think they ought to be.
Palmer talks about this in the context of vocation, but becoming well-versed with our core truth and values affects every worthwhile aspect of our life. When ignored for too long, they collect at the seams and burst through at the most inopportune times, laying waste to all our efforts to keep them contained or hidden.
So how exactly do you listen for what your life intends? This is a deep question, but answering it begins around paying attention to your actions and reactions, your intuitions and instincts, your feelings and bodily states of being. By paying attention to what you’re proud of as well as what you find shameful.
It is a strange gift, this ability to accept your true self, and a demanding one at that. You have to admit the loss of expectations, your own (I am this, not that), and those of others’ (be this, not that). You have to hold firm when tempted to abandon your self, and be willing to reclaim it if you do.
And yet, it is this very gift we seek under the guise of any pursuit, any achievement, any triumph, if we are indeed listening.
Leave a Reply