Follow The White Rabbit...
On embracing the path of uncertainty
As I write this I am bogged down by uncertainty: My partner and I are fighting. I can’t make progress on my new book. Physical changes in my body brought on by aging and hormonal fluctuation exasperate me. Writing with unpredictable income is wreaking havoc on my nerves. I haven’t felt this uncertain about my future in years.
I should run away and leave the country, go on some retreat somewhere or an artist residency, I say to myself while cleaning the dishes, hot steam fogging up my glasses, creating a perfect metaphor for how lost I feel. Maybe if I isolate from what is familiar, I will find myself again. Because I can’t seem to find myself here in these surroundings that are supposed to feel solid and certain.
I know it’s not just me. Many of my friends are going through a similar crisis: relationships falling apart, careers no longer feeling satisfying, sleepless nights spent questioning purpose and meaning. On a cultural and political level, we don’t have to look far to see how the societal structures we have come to depend on for a sense of “normalcy” (for better or worse) are crumbling before our eyes.
In the past when I was trapped in a bout of anxiety, I’d look to patterns from my childhood wounding. For example, if my partner and I were struggling, I’d make connections to how that experience was bringing up old fears of abandonment. If I was stressed out about money, I’d notice how that experience harkened back to growing up in a financially unstable home. Then I would give myself grace and remind myself this is not the past and I am safe. But there is something different about this moment. This isn’t reliving the past—this is the birth of a new, unfamiliar beginning.
I can sense that my current feelings of instability in my marriage, career, and physical health are a smoke screen for a deeper realization. I have a sneaking suspicion that’s exactly why the universe isn’t letting me be distracted by predictable outcomes. I am being thrust toward expansion.
In a sense, I have been here before. In 2016 I had a full blown spiritual awakening, proceeded by months of dark instability that almost swallowed me whole. I am much more grounded and connected to my Higher Self now and I do not see this current (crisis?) as an indication I am not ok. Rather, I am questioning what I thought I needed to be ok and realizing maybe, I don’t need those things?
I love my partner dearly. But the older I get the less I need my partner to validate my self-worth. I love my work. But the older I get, the more I realize success in the game of capitalism is a state of flux and I cannot depend on it to make me feel complete. I love my body. But the older I get the more I realize that bodies change, behave unpredictably and no matter how hard we try, it’s out of our control.
And if I don’t need my partner, my work or my body to meet my expectations in order to feel fulfilled anymore, then what do I need?
The answer is—I don’t know.
Yet.
What I do know is that for many years I have stifled desires and unabashed pursuits of pleasure. For many years I have felt guilty for wanting experiences that challenge the status quo or could be labeled as taboo. No more, my heart is telling me.
I want to feel more alive than I do now but I don’t know exactly how to access that within myself. I have a sneaking suspicion the more space I carve out for what inspires me, sounds fun or thrilling, the closer I will get to understanding what exactly it is I’m searching for. I feel a bit like Alice before she followed the white rabbit. Who am I to pursue a deeper understanding of myself so unapologetically? Will I still be loved on the other side? What if I discover something that changes…everything?
My partner and I used to watch a reality show called Life Below Zero about how people survive in the freezing temperatures of the Alaskan wilderness. There was a couple on the show who lived near a river and had to do a lot of preparation at the end of winter before “the big thaw”—when the ice begins to melt and massive chunks break off unpredictably crashing into each other. It’s a risky time for their property, not knowing how these tectonic movements will alter the landscape of their homestead.
It feels like collectively we are in beginning stages of our own big thaw, where what we had depended on for solid ground is moving out from under us and soon the fresh earth will be revealed so we can plant anew.
I don’t know how the ice will move, what will be destroyed in the process and what growth will come of it but that’s ok. Because the universe is magical and mysterious. And we love her for it.
When we allow ourselves to evolve internally,