Letting there be room for not knowing is the most important thing of all. When there’s a big disappointment, we don’t know if that’s the end of the story. It may just be the beginning of a great adventure. Life is like that. We don’t know anything. We call something bad; we call it good. But really we just don’t know. — Pema Chodron
How are you doing right now? This minute? Are you fully grounded and invested in what you doing (which is reading a blog post)? Are you able to let the past go? Are you ready to stop pining for an uncertain future? Are you open to experiencing life in a radically different way? If so, then living in the now is the answer.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to give a trite answer to a difficult situation in trying times. I want you (and me!) to take a deep cleansing breath or two and commit to this present moment in this particular day. This practice has been an important component of my self-care in a recent season of big, bitter NO’s.
It was tempting to dismiss my grief and uncertainty. After all, a lot of folks have much greater challenges and daunting problems. But that would be an unhealthy and unhelpful way of dealing with my emotions. Instead, I have chosen to honor the emotions and situations that have triggered them. That way I can move through them in a way that honors both my dignity, humanity, and context. For me this has been a time for lament.
My list of big, bitter NO’s began back in late February when my health didn’t seem stable enough to take part in this year’s Women’s Pilgrimage to Israel and the West Bank. Turns out none of the pilgrims were able to go due to COVID=19. Some of my sisters-in-travel-and-faith didn’t get their NO until they were standing in the airport check-in line, and one woman was already in the air flying to meet up with the group for the last leg of the trip.
Quickly deducing this was going to be a strange year for travel, we decided to install a backyard pool. Wouldn’t the water be good exercise and stress-reducing? Our kids might come around more. All good and happy thoughts. Do you know how difficult it is to find an above ground pool kit thanks to, yep you guessed it, COVID-19? Suffice it to say there was no pool to be found in Harrisburg. We found a bigger one than we really wanted in the midwest and ordered it, only to discover that the only place it would fit without significant terrain alteration and a construction permit was directly under power lines. Thankfully, the company said yes to the return and we were not out the money. This was one of the smaller NOs in the season.
The very worst NO was the murder of one of our church family in a horrible act of fear and violence–a wrong place/wrong time scenario that took from this life a truly bright star. It has shaken and shaped our communal worship and online gatherings. The effects of this young man’s death will affect our community and his family for a long time to come.
Another big NO was the cancellation of our bucket list trip, an Iona Pilgrimage with John Philip Newell, again thanks to COVID-19. This trip was something I’d been hoping for since 2001 when I stood at Heritage Wharf in the shadow of Oban and looked across the firth toward the Isle of Mull, beyond which Iona rises across the water. I didn’t make it on that trip, and I won’t make it in 2020. That was indeed a big NO, especially since we made the decision not to push the reservation forward until we have a handle on the really big NO–my health.
Concurrent with the rise of the Corona Virus, my CA 27-29 tumor markers started to rise from the low sixties, to above ninety, and onward and upward through 100. The last test revealed a jump beyond 200. This means the cancer is spreading. I had my first bone scan and lit up like a Christmas Tree with metastatic lesions (mets) from my skull to my femurs and everywhere in between in my increasingly fragile frame. So it’s bye-bye Ibrance (and I say good riddance) and hello Faslodex and Verzenio. Both drugs have some uncomfortable and dangerous side effects, so I am approaching this change with trepidation. We are definitely in a state of unknowing with this big NO.
What does one do with a string of big, bitter NO’s? You might want to try this practice I find helpful: Take a few deep centering breaths, ground yourself by walking barefoot or lounging in the grass, and focus on the present moment. Don’t bring an agenda to your time. Bring an openness to be present to life and listen to the guidance of your higher power. Invite guidance and wisdom to reframe the problem, situation, or experience. Try to look at the situation with fresh eyes and see what the Creator has to reveal.
Don’t expect immediate answers. You might get one, but my experience is that these bright and hopeful reframed yeses come along when you least expect them but are primed to receive them. You can’t spot a divine yes when you’re looking back at your past or leaning too far into the future. You can’t spot an abundant yes if you’re too focused on what you think the yes should be. Be open. Hold loosely. Embrace unknowing as holy soil in which to take root and learn. Perhaps the key for all of us in this strange, liminal time is simply to pay attention, live fully in the moment, and embrace the uncomfortable and vulnerable position of not knowing. The more we reframe our NOs, the more likely we encounter divine yeses.
Next time I’ll share how I listened for and received the blessing of some unexpected yeses. Until then, be brave, be kind, and live fully each precious moment.