The gift of hopelessness

Birthday struggles, birthday blessings

I've been struggling, dear ones. 

​Around my birthday I always dance with two opposites... feeling immensely grateful for the gift of my life, and feeling hopeless and wondering what the hell I am doing here.

​Most of my days I'm optimistic, excited, curious, and open-hearted. 

And days like today -- when life feels pointless and too hard and that nothing I do makes a difference -- are actually really important.

​When I let myself feel the hopelessness, it puts my feet on the ground in a more foundational way. Because there is truth to the statement: it is hopeless. 

​There is so much war, and greed, and fighting, and taking sides, and ugliness and hurt.

​People are cruel to each other in unimaginable ways.

The climate change is devastating, creating disasters and extinction around the world. 

​Everything seems to be careening out of control.

​How can my small actions make any difference?

​Breathe.

​It is hopeless.

​Breathe.

​I don't know what to do next.

​Breathe.

​I feel helpless.

​Breathe.

​I'm tired.

​Breathe.

​I can't fix it all.

​Breathe.

​I'm empty.

​Breathe.

​-

​Breathe.

​-

​And from that emptiness, something new emerges.

---

Yesterday, I was struggling and wrote the words above. This morning I woke up filled with gratitude, and hope. 

Hope, not from I have to fix myself/others/the world. 

Hope as a choice. 

Optimism as a chosen perspective. 

Possibility as a spiritual path.

I choose, each day, to creatively dance with the universe out of joy and wonder.

I also choose, each day, to grieve what we humans do to each other. (And to the animals, plants, earth and sky…)

I choose to turn and face the hurt rather than covering it over.

I choose to open wider to all of it; to stretch my arms and embrace the beauty and the beast within each of us.

Cosmos growing from our spring seedballs

Today I turn 57 years young, and I’m doing exactly what my heart yearns for: the physical labor of building a sacred retreat center with friends (this morning I chiseled and sanded the gorgeous cedar face boards for the bathhouse); the emotional labor of inviting myself to drop through the pain and sorrow to the deeper waters of compassion and connection; and the mental labor of writing about my process. 

Later today there will be rest and celebration: There is an outdoor, gazing-at-the-trees bath in my immediate future. My friend Mark set up the propane hot water tank this morning, and Ernesto, Laura and I just moved the heavy cast iron tub to its new home. 

Bathtub ready to go, just add hot water!!!!

I’ll be spending a lot of time naked in hot water over the next few days. And tonight there will be music and food and dancing in the yurt with friends. 

My prayer today: that we may all  find the courage get the emotional, mental, and physical support and to stretch out our arms and embrace everything. To not turn away from the hurt. To not take sides as a way to avoid the pain or feel righteous. To take our anger or grief or longing and transmute it into holy action. 

Every little drop, every tiny action, every simple prayer makes a difference.

You are needed.

Your heart, your wisdom, your creative mojo are needed.

My heart, my wisdom, my creative mojo are needed. And I’ll keep showing up and sharing and dancing with the contradictions with you.

We are in this together.

Thanks for being here.

For paid subscribers; below is video of an experience I had with my mentor, don Miguel Ruiz, many years ago in Peru and how it taught me to open wider to it all. Also included in the video is a short meditation.

---

My birthday wish: Please consider becoming a paid subscriber of Out of the Fire. It is $9 a month or $90 for the year; there is also a special Founding Member level. Paid subscribers get to ask for advice, cheerleading, or ask for a story and I reply with videos / writings/ audios. 

I’m also exploring the chat feature and will keep finding ways for our paid community members to connect. Your subscription helps support me as a writer and helps with the long-term restoration of Warrior Heart Ranch post-wildfire. 

And if you can’t support financially right now, please keep enjoying the weekly writing and don’t feel bad! I’m so happy to be sharing with you, paid or free. You are welcome here : )