(4) Missed Calls
Answer. It’s the universe calling.
I’ve fallen out of the flow. I can’t really pinpoint the moment it happened. The pace of getting connected and disconnected can be a slow build, or a sudden tumble. It seems I’ve been asleep at the wheel, while speeding through my life, anxious to reach a destination that seems unreachable. There have been brief moments of awakening, quickly followed by judgment.
But the universe’s call is getting too loud to ignore.
First there was a loss. A tragic loss that made my heart ache for all the past losses and losses to come. The universe said pay attention. The universe said this human existence is fragile and our spirit is forever indestructible. The universe said slow down.
I heard the universe, but I did not listen. I put energy into mourning, catastrophizing and disaster planning.
Then there was a violent virus that took over my physical being for just enough hours to require me to ask for help, to take a time out and to derail a week of work and commitments. The universe said your body is a vessel that needs to rest and refuel. The universe said you can’t expect it to keep up with your plans. The universe said slow down.
I heard the universe, but I did not listen. I apologized, I scolded myself for falling off schedule, I resented others for making me feel like a failure.
Then my child burned up, his little body fighting a similar viral invasion for three days. With each dose of medicine, with each lukewarm bath, the universe said listen to what your family truly needs, not what you observe others doing for their families. The universe said skip the art class, cancel the play date, disappoint your extended family, get bored and do nothing with your child. The universe said slow down.
I heard the universe, but I did not listen. I made fewer plans, delegated small tasks, but took on the weight of irrational guilt in their place.
Then my back went out. I felt a deep pang and it traveled down my leg and I had no choice but to stop. To put down my child. To sit still. To ask for assistance. To explain I could not keep up. The universe said move consciously, move with intention, move with love. The universe said stop rushing.
I heard the universe, but I did not listen. I used the injury as an excuse, a valid plea for compassion from my family, feeling finally justified in my need to do less. I did not listen to the call — the call to allow others’ judgments rather than defend against them, to let go of my own, and truly embrace the validity of my values, my energy and my pace.
How one wakes you up depends on how deeply you are asleep. While a soft whisper or gentle stroke is enough to bring you back from a daydream or light sun-drenched nap, it can take a nudge, a shove or even shouting to shake you from a slumber so deep it resembles hibernation.
How loudly will the universe need to shout before I wake up?
