As I write this morning, I have two dogs under my desk. If I stand up to go somewhere, they get up and follow. It is equal parts sweet and annoying as I have to watch that I do not trip over them then I tell them every single time to go ahead of me down the stairs so they do not send me flying in their exuberance.
I think they both know my secret. I love cats more than dogs. There, I said it. Not out loud though, as I am not that cruel, and I am sure they sense it anyway.
They are both what I call rescue dogs. One, truly a rescue, was found roaming the farmland in the central highlands area. He had been fostered for quite a while when we met him.
Meeting George
The kids found him online and had been showing my husband dog after dog hoping he would agree to one of them. Now, he is a real dog person, and so are the rest of my family, so when they found the right dog, George, we drove over two hours to meet him.
The foster carer had four dogs of her own and at least another four dogs that I saw. We went into a large yard area with three of the dogs including George and stood quietly to the side and waited. The carer said it was important that George felt safe and that he could check us out before we got too close.
She also told us that the last lady who had adopted him brought him back after a week saying he does not like her. Apparently, he was a man’s dog and did not like women as much.
So, we stood in the yard and waited patiently as the dogs each came and sniffed us. We stayed for an hour getting to know George as he came over more often for pats and for us to throw the ball for him.
We all agreed he was great, filled in all the adoption paperwork, put him on a lead, and he excitedly walked out to the car with us. The minute we opened the back door, George jumped straight in and sat down like he knew exactly what was happening.
The foster carer broke into tears, she was so happy. She then explained that if this adoption did not work, George was going to be put down. Something about too many failed adoptions.
Well, as a family, that horrified us, and we talked about it on the way home as George sat smiling on the backseat periodically getting hugs from each of the kids.
A Match Made in Heaven
That was nearly seven years ago, and although I secretly love cats more, George has a very special place in my heart. Somehow, it feels like he was waiting just for us. He absolutely loves being here, especially coming out into the paddocks to do farm work. He starts running around like a puppy, so excited to be going out to do something. I think of all the time he spent roaming free and all the failed adoptions, leading to the point when we arrived, which was a match made in heaven.
Maybe that is the point. I know I have looked at missed opportunities, or worse, other people’s success where I could not even get a start, and wondered how divinely orchestrated my life really is. Shutting doors I am not supposed to pass through and pushing me through doors I did not think I wanted to go through.
Sometimes a door I knock on opens immediately, and other times I feel like I am walking down a very long corridor looking for my door only to choose the one that will not open yet. Divine timing, I am told. Everything happens in divine timing. However, sometimes I am impatient and just want it all to happen now.
My current solution to that is to pretend I am an explorer, curiously exploring the realm of possibility, trying one thing or another, and staying open to whatever happens.
Exploring New Worlds
It is also the reason I love reading so much. A great book takes you into a world you have never been in, richly describing the contents of the world so that you can experience it without leaving the couch.
It reminds me of the opening line from the original Star Trek series c. 1966:
"Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Its five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds; to seek out new life and new civilisations; to boldly go where no man has gone before."
Perhaps real life is more like the Star Trek opening than we realise. We are explorers, discovering where we fit in and how we operate in this world, seeking new possibilities and walking through new doors.
One thing that feels out of my control though is the timing. Sometimes I push and push and get nowhere. Other times, I only have to open my mouth and what I am seeking lands in my lap.
Trusting that timing is one of the hardest things I have to do.
I got a message this week through my Tarot group that now is not the time to push frenetically and anxiously like I am going to miss out. Rather, if I let go of the desperate energy and instead feel into what is coming up for me, I might just be able to feel my way to the next door of opportunity that is meant for me.
That does not mean I stop everything, but I can choose the energy I am bringing to the circumstances I am in. I can choose to keep my vision clearly in front of me and also choose to surrender the how and when.
Somatic Awareness and Surrender
I know why I do what I do; it is deeply part of my core being, and I would like to think I am getting better at being able to articulate it. However, how and when are mostly still in the realm of possibility, which is exciting and frightening at the same time.
So how do I know when to push, when to wait, and when to try another door?
I do not always know, but this week I am practising feeling my way through that proverbial corridor. Noticing what comes up, how that actually feels in my body, and sitting quietly with the emotion as it flows through me, remembering that emotion is really energy in motion. That it flows through the body when not blocked or suppressed.
In practice, that means I am journaling more about how the topics that overly occupy my thoughts are actually felt in my body, and where in my body I feel them. Without making any of my feelings wrong, I am acknowledging them and sitting with them. This is somatic awareness.
What has a somatic practice got to do with divine timing?
It allows me to surrender the how and when and experience the present as it is, not as I wished it was. It helps me come to peace with what is while still moving toward my vision.
In my experience, surrender is part of the process of divine timing.
Remembering that surrender is not giving up. It is still walking toward your vision. It is continuing to knock on doors, and it is moving on toward the next door when one refuses to open right now.
Knowing this and actually living it, however, are two very different things. I can understand surrender intellectually and still find myself gripping tightly to how I think something should unfold. Perhaps surrender, like so many things, is something that needs to be practised.
So, for now I have set an alarm on my phone that will go off at 11:02 every morning to remind me that I am practising surrender. Until this becomes a more natural habit, this is what I need to help me remember. When my alarm goes off, I take a deep breath, feel into my body, and remind my body what it feels like to surrender, allowing my shoulders and my whole body to relax.
Perhaps trusting divine timing, at its most simple, is learning to keep moving while making peace with not knowing when or how we will arrive, and slowly learning to notice, in our own bodies, the difference between holding tightly to an outcome and surrendering to what is.
· Where in your life are you trying to control the how and when?
· When you think about the thing you are waiting for, where do you feel the waiting in your body?
· What happens if, just for a moment, you stop trying to make that feeling go away?
May this day bring you peace. May you feel the warmth of the sun on your face.
Until next time,
Leeanne
P.S. I’d love to hear from you. What helps you most when you surrender to divine timing? Simply hit reply and tell me.
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