Is This The Life You're Supposed To Be Living
I spent two weeks driving from Boston to Oregon and arrived at my destination on Sunday. I am currently on the side of a small mountain (foothill?) surrounded by nature and beauty and love (I am with my daughter and her dog). This week's Pleasure Peek was from an interview with Reese Witherspoon that I read in Glamour Magazine:
"Is this the life you're supposed to be living?"
She mentioned that it was a question she and Oprah and perhaps some other deep-thinking women had explored when they were together.
I don't know what life I am supposed to be living. Something about driving solo across the vast United States with my bags of what I thought was "important" when I packed them has allowed a lot of preconceptions to fall away. I do know that my spiritual self has opened up more than ever and when I read this post from Danielle Laporte, it spoke to me and I felt I had to share, that I needed to pass on the prayer.
I know I need help and that I need to listen to the inner voice, my soul, the Divine. Whenever I reach out and ask, I get answers. This is my wish for you.
Dear God, help me out with the basics, would you? Dear God, Show me how to love the ones that are like, really hard to love. The misogynists and boundary bullies, the fake leaders and land-rapers. Actually, for the sake of efficiency, just show me how to love the most greedy. That should cover it. (But while we’re at it, help me out with the Mean Girls, ‘cause like, whoa.) Show me how to move my body through a time and space that is full of
photoshopped illusions, exorbitant goals, and endocrine disruptors. Instead of wanting her to be any different or stronger, I suspect that you’ll tell me to shower my bodacious bod’ — every cell, and bronchial, and pore, and limb — with infinite gratitude for carrying me through gravity, sunrise after sunrise; for the ecstasy; for the endurance. On second thought, I can rescind this request for help. I think I’ve got it. Show me how to surf my creativity like the most benevolent tsunami. Help me do the hard work of tenderness. This is in the realm of super magical powers, but I’d really love to know how to transmute all of the plastic that coats the Earth and chokes her oceans into some kind of restorative nutrient. Kinda of like how leaves are made into tinctures. This is the most basic of basics but could you show me how to sleep — sleep like I deserve to rest, with no worries about keeping up. Sweet Father-Mother, help me get free of the damn cloud. Remind me what life was like before my devices became vices. Or even better, how I can operate from the here and now with the gifts of modernity and the intention of ancient devotion. There is a vantage point on one of the peaks of my life with a sign that says, “You’ve come so far.” (Thanks for putting it where I can see it.) Can you help me take a break every day to walk there and enjoy the view? I’ll meet you there, with every intention of staying a while. Thank you for absolutely everything. Love,
PS: It’s Pass on a Prayer Day. Everyday. Please and thank you.