Land of Not Knowing

Last month was challenging in many ways for me.  How was your merry month of May?  It is within my favorite time of year, for one thing. So many good May memories and beautiful life-changing events have occurred throughout my life in this gloriously blooming month.  To name a few, the birth of my daughter, the birth of my first grandchild and the birth of the first true love of my life who became the father of my children. Often Memorial Day marked our first trip to the beach to stay at my mother's little summer home there in the Cape May, NJ area. There's that May word again!

I knew a big decision had to be made since several unexpected events knocked me off my feet in May.  I happened to be on beautiful Hilton Head Island when I realized I could not delay or try to finagle things to work out in the direction I already had planned.  It meant letting go of what I had been holding onto for the past several years, vacillating from total commitment on the familiar path to retiring from everything I loved doing.  It all coincided with the energy shifts many of us were experiencing during 2012-2013.  I was not used to not knowing where I was going.  I was standing atop one of the mountains in Alaska, looking out over the Magnificence just being silent and thankful, breathing it all in when the phrase came to me, "The Land of Not Knowing." Surrounded by the majesty of creation, I was humbled and peaceful as most of us are in such awareness.  It's okay to not know, and to let go of the need to know.

So last month there I was again not knowing. I put one foot over the boundary and realized I did know what I had to do.  I knew quite clearly and without any doubt.  I cried.  I smiled.  I prayed.  I meditated.  There was very clearly a way to take the next step.  So on the very last day of  May I knew I had to write a letter of resignation to a number of people and events.  As I pondered what to say and prayed for divine guidance about it, I began by writing this as a facebook post:

"Heavy rain painting us some very wet and shiny vistas just outside the house this last day of May. Goodbye May. You were a roller coaster of emotions ranging from the joy of long awaited answered prayer and happy, memorable times with family and friends to shock, sorrow, letting go and heartbreak. We received unsettling news, good news and encouraging news. We came face to face with life changing decisions and which fork in the road to take. But really, I ask myself, was this May so vastly different than any recent months? Yes. Yes, it was. And I am letting the driven rain cleanse the path of May's debris so I can keep moving forward. I think of one of my favorite Beatles' songs, "I'm fixing a hole where the rain gets in and stops my mind from wandering where it will go... And it really doesn't matter if I'm wrong I'm right where I belong... I'm taking the time for a number of things that weren't important yesterday..." Yes. It's a beautiful, rainy Saturday morning, filled with some laughter, a silly dog and easy breakfast conversation. May you, too, be surrounded by such things that mean the most to you this day."

So I wrote that email letter. I hesitated twice before hitting the send button. All but three people responded.  And every one of those responses were understanding, gracious, kind and encouraging, moving me to tears of gratitude for their wisdom and love.  It affirmed what I had been teaching and preaching for years: When you listen to that still small voice within, when you heed the call of the Divine, when you truly desire the very best outcome for everyone involved in a situation, self included, it really does all work out.  If you are in that Land of Not Knowing it can seem like forever.  It can be very unsettling.  It can be scary. But so can Knowing. Wherever you're dwelling these days, I wish you peace.