My son ran joyfully through the neighbourhood splash pad, his menacing, yet innocent laugh flying through the air. I was watching him closely, but making a point of letting him be. He was six years old now. He didn’t need to me every ten seconds anymore.
My dear friend sat beside me playing a game on her phone. We were both quiet today. The air was warm and the breeze light, a perfect day to run through water without a care.
I felt soft. The past few months had rendered me so. A lot of letting go and a lot of prayer had brought me to this point.
“Goodness, your eyes are full,” said my park bench companion looking up from her tiny screen. “You seem on the verge of many things. As if you have some decisions to make.”
I tucked my thumbs under the straps of my black tank top and tugged at them gently. “You’re bang on, as usual,” I said quietly. There were many moms around us and the turn of this conversation made me shy.
“Well, go on then,” she urged, putting her phone away in her white leather bag.
I shifted myself toward her and lowered my head slightly. “There were things in my life that just weren’t working. I let them go.” I looked up briefly to spy my son. He was helping a little girl who had tripped and fallen. I smiled and continued. “I told you before that I had been living my life for other people.”
She nodded. “Yes, I remember.”
“I’ve stopped doing that,” I said with a certainty that surprised even me a little. “I started being honest about what I wanted.”
My friend gave tiny claps in celebration and I had to laugh.
“I know, right?” I said. “I’m a student of A Course in Miracles, as you know, and one of the things we’re encouraged to do is to share everything with our Inner Guide…with Spirit. I began to tell Spirit about everything I wanted and as I did I could feel this heavy, underlying feeling of guilt…like I didn’t deserve to be happy.”
“Yes, sweetie. I know it well.”
“So I would feel this and tell Spirit about that as well. But here’s the thing, I have many wants and desires, but I’ve lived enough or in such a way that I know that getting what I want won’t make me happy.”
“Right. Yes,” she said, nodding emphatically.
I shielded my eyes from the Sun and scanned the playground for my child who was putting his face up against a plastic whale spout. “Being honest about what I want and then letting it go and declaring that I am open to getting what I need, now that…that felt good. Scary, but good.”
“Scary because you don’t fully trust your Inner Guide yet.”
I took a deep breath and looked down at my lap again. “Yeah, I still feel like I’ve lost so much.”
“And yet, it’s all ok. It’s better than ok some days even.” I felt myself smile. It wasn’t even a conscious choice to do so; I just did it. “So beginning to trust has been kinda trippy. Lately, everything I’ve asked for in earnest has come my way.”
My friend grinned. And it was the kind of grin that said: “Been there.”
“I was honest about the relationship that I wanted, and it circled back to me. I was honest about my short-term work goals, and an opportunity showed up with ease. And I was honest about needing a big kick in the butt to force me out of my rut and out of the country, and lo and behold, it appeared.”
“This is all great! So why aren’t you smiling anymore?” she asked.
I brought my knees up to my chest and tucked my chin in between. “I haven’t said yes to any of it yet.”
My friend sighed and sat back against the bench looking out toward the playing children. “You know, I’ve had moments where I’ve felt like my own wills and desires were not actually my own. I’ve had moments where they seemed planted in my heart from some lovely unknown place. And they felt true. They felt right. It didn’t necessarily stop me from being scared about seeing them come to fruition, but it did ease the guilt of getting what I wanted because I had an inkling that this was me living my divine purpose. This was me being truly helpful.”
I could feel a tightness in my chest begin to ease and I had not even realized it was there. “I think that’s what these are too. The relationship, the job, the kick in the butt. I think I’m meant to say yes.”
Just then my son came running up to me, soaking wet and blissfully out of breath. “Mommy, I just met a boy named Jack. He wants to be my friend. I think I have to say yes,” he told me, huffing and puffing.
I pulled him close not caring how wet he was and kissed his temple. “Then do it, baby,” I said. “Go tell him ‘yes’.”
**originally written September 2014**