The Hunch

It is coming to me in hunches—that whatever happens, the soul is already in on it. There must be a fork in the road where you begin to choose what happens to you, versus fighting it.

I have had some decisions to make recently. Very simple ones in regard to house repairs. Mundane, practical life choices. But there is a slight wind in favor of going with whoever shows up to fix what.

Just as I let go of thinking I know the answer, I realize I am the answer that shows up easily. I am so tired of fighting in the name of perfection. It never leads anywhere but another decision to be even more perfect.

Perfection doesn’t exist and I so wanted it to be real. That is what the first half of life is about. The second half can go well or ill. But the ego is lessening while the soul’s acceptance of grace begins to rise like the moon. The sun of perfection is done.

I have suffered deep losses and today I am at peace with them. My soul was one step ahead of me all the way. It was the ego that went to the cross, not me. Not me at all.

You cannot carry water around in your hand. Neither can you summon grace by the teaspoon. It comes in toto or not at all.

I am making no sense. Just reporting from a slightly different point of view. Surrender happens; you can’t force it, not for long. I have been bad at it.

Writing thousands of notes, each one is the first one. Isn’t that oddly wonderful? The soul is going before to bless the words that Vicki thinks she is writing.

Vicki Woodyard