Being Ready

When you're not ready, you're not ready. There's nothing you can do. You can't force it. Even if you want to. The worst is when you try and force it and then collapse in pain. It's painful not to be ready for something you really want to be ready for. When did I get it into my head that it is possible to force myself to get ready? It's a dead end.

I was reading a little bit of this blog today and the author, a successful blogger mom, writes a letter to her four year old about being ready/not ready. It articulates the reality of readiness well.

"We spent seven days in Florida, and although we tried to get you to enjoy the beach you would not put your feet down and touch the sand. So you spent the majority of the time in the pool. It was a little sad not to have created a few memories of us together on the beach building castles or dipping our toes in the ocean, but if there is one unassailable truth that we keep butting up against as your parents it's that you will try something new only when you are damn well ready. This has been true of every milestone in your short four years here, from sitting up to crawling to walking, from eating and sleeping to meeting new people. Everything is and has been a battle, and the more we try to force something the more you resist. Our instinct as parents is to panic and try to fix the problem when in reality there is no problem. You are just taking your time. And really, all you want from us is to give you that time."

Wow, big breath. The thing that I keep hearing from God, all the way from a spiritual director in San Francisco down to San Dimas in my tower office and everywhere I go is that I need to take my time. When I panic, when I wish so desperately to be at a place that I am not, God says, "Take your time." It's hard to hear that for months on end when all you want is to be in a certain place.

The mom blogger continues:
"On the last night of our vacation we were out getting dinner at a restaurant on the beach when suddenly I looked up and saw you running after the two kids who had been with us all week. On the beach. In the sand. WITHOUT SHOES. All of us just sat there in silence and stared. I know it sounds weird to say that I was proud of you for walking on the beach, but there it is, I WAS SO PROUD. That moment was just a continuation of so many other moments when you were saying to us, hey, everything is fine, I'm just deciding for myself when I'm ready. And right now I'm ready."

One day, I will be ready. My desires, my will, my heart will all sync and scream READY and you will run like your butt is on fire. But until then, take your time. Take your time. It's another way of being gentle to yourself, having compassion for yourself, living from your center, finding the strength to accept all that you are, and walk in the love of God. You are doing just fine, right where you are at.