What can you do in service to your dreams today?

There’s no way to accept and embrace reality without recognizing our own vulnerability. If we’re lucky, we get 70, 80, 90, maybe 100 to offer up whatever we’ve got. The first order of business, once we’re grown, is to make peace with our past. I’ve met maybe three people who had idyllic childhoods, so barring them, most of us are going to have some healing to do. And of course, I jest. Even if your childhood was wonderful, we all have pain, insecurities, fears and struggles. It’s part of the nature of being human. Yet, we have to face the journey in our own way, and we have to develop our own tools.

We like to make things linear, but my sense is really that time folds in on itself, and also expands out, simultaneously. I can go back to any vivid moment of my life at any time. I can be three, on my grandmother’s soft and cozy lap and I can feel her love, just by closing my eyes. I can be 14, in the living room with my high school boyfriend, being kissed for the first time, with rain pounding on the rooftop, my heart pounding, every sense on fire. I can be 16, running away from the boy I loved, who sat on a bench and watched me leave, sobbing as I went, because he said we weren’t right for each other, and I can see the blurry trees through my tears. I can be sitting next to my grandfather just moments after he passed away, my hand on his warm chest, and life felt so confusing here. Just like that, I’m there, and I’m crying. I can also be right here, right now, with Grant sitting at the end of the couch with my toes being warmed up under his legs, and the smell of coconut curry floating around our home, and I see people walking by on the street outside. We have to be able to acknowledge the vulnerability of this. 

A couple years ago, I went to coffee with a friend, and they asked me what my five year plan was, and I laughed, loudly. I might have accidentally snorted. When I look back on the last five years of my life, almost none of it has gone according to any plan I had. You heal. You make peace with your past. You use your wounds as entryways to understanding and insight and compassion. You figure out what lights you up, what it is, you, in particular, have to offer, and you get busy figuring out how best to do that. Hopefully at some point you realize that it’s what you give, and not what you have, that’s going to define your life. You follow your passion and you share your gifts, and you keep your heart open. You evolve as everything around you evolves, and you keep putting one foot in front of the other. That’s the plan as far as I know.

I’m not saying you have to burn your vision board, or that you shouldn’t have goals. Living intentionally is the way to go. Thinking about where you’re going to spend your time and energy makes sense. It’s not like those are infinite gifts, after all, and you don’t want to squander them. But I wouldn’t get too attached to a picture in your head of “how things should be”, or how people should be, or how life should look, because reality is not obligated to bend to your will, and it probably won’t. 

Here are some things I know for sure: When I’m coming from a loving, open, generous place, life feels pretty awesome, and when I’m in fear, when I’m anxious or worrying or feeling resentful or bitter or I’m blaming someone else, life feels pretty crappy. When I focus on what I can give, it reminds me that I’m coming from a place of abundance, and that makes me feel really grateful, and when I focus on what I don’t have, or what I’m not getting, that makes me feel like I don’t have enough, and other people have more, and that, in turn, makes me feel that I ought to grasp whatever I’ve got which makes me feel small and petty and like I’m coming from a place of lack, which feels bad. Also, when I focus on the days instead of the years, that feels manageable. When I think about what I can do today to support my own healing if I need it (that has to come first), or what I can do to possibly uplift someone else, I’m on track to have a meaningful and fulfilling day. And If I can string a bunch of those days together, I’m having a meaningful and fulfilling life. 

What can you do in service to your dreams and the dreams of those you love, today? What can you do to strengthen and nurture yourself, and everyone you encounter, today? I think those are useful questions. Grateful, as ever, to be in conversation with you all. We’ll talk soon.

Danielle Spillman is a certified yoga teacher, health enthusiast, and writer. You can find more of her musings at www.findyourlightyoga.com.