It shouldn't be this way
A thought on fighting reality
Yesterday I sat under beautiful trees and a 63 degree sunny day in Ojai, California, with thirteen new friends. In between meals and coffee breaks, we sat in a circle for two days with author, podcaster, and former pastor, Rob Bell. We each took turns sitting in a chair opposite Rob in the middle of the circle as we shared a question or project we’ve been sitting with. He leaned forward with questions, coaching, smiles, and a knowing nod when tears sprang to our eyes because we’d stumbled into the thing under the thing.
Magic.
I’ll share a few highlights in the next couple months here on the Thread. You know — those throwaway lines someone rattles off, but your heart inhales sharply because something about that sentence is deeply true. Yeah. Those kinds of sentences.
It shouldn’t be this way.
This marriage wasn’t supposed to go this way.
Why is my body betraying me?
I thought they would love me forever.
This is not how parenting a teen was supposed to be.
They should still be alive.
My beloved pet is sick.
How are we living on a planet that future generations may not survive?
My job is not at all what I thought it would be.
I cannot believe that family relationship is playing out this way.
It shouldn’t be this way.
Rob said it so casually. He then went onto say:
“It shouldn’t have happened. But it did. The reality is that it did happen. The ‘should’ in my head is me picking a fight with reality. I’m blaming them for what happened. Reality always wins. We punch ourselves in the face, and then go looking for fists. We cause way more suffering for ourselves by fighting what they did.”
Yeah. It’s not fair.
Wherever you land on that list above — it’s not fair. It shouldn’t be that way.
And yet — reality always wins.
How many times do we double down on our disbelief and create more suffering instead of doing the work to accept reality as it actually is? And then discerning the next step from there?
Sure, this takes time. It’s a tall order to accept reality when it doesn’t match the story living in our bones. The story we picked up from childhood dreams or movies or that one thing our parent said.
We talk a lot about the rhythm of death and resurrection around here. The invitation to pull the thread in the mess that is our life, to see what longs to unravel and exhale.
Where might you be invited to die to what you wanted to happen?
You had a good plan. Why isn’t everyone following it?
My brother who died almost two years ago didn’t follow my plans.
My mental health journey took more right turns than I thought possible.
This season of parenting is kicking my butt. Not what I planned.
I can keep fighting those realities. It’s my choice. But once I see how I’m causing myself more suffering, the invitation to let the old story go gets more compelling.
As hard as it is think about accepting those realities, I can’t ignore how curious it feels to stop propping up a reality that’s not true.
It feels like…relief.
Like I could breathe myself home to what simply is true now.
And once I do that — now the work can begin because we’re left holding what actually is.
A few minutes later, Rob leaned in and said to the beloved human in the chair across from him: “What if you set them free?”
What if you set them free?
What if you set your marriage, your body, your pet, your child, our planet, your job, that relationship free from all the things it isn’t?
So you can open your hands to what is.
Sending big love your way, my dear reader. Grateful to be with you in this journey.
I love this, Jenny. My mantra of the year last year was "Be with what is." So yes. This. Precisely!
Thank you for this! I've been challenged with immanent fighting reality the past couple of months, with my mother's illness and ultimate transition. A piece of me is still looking for fists (I'm going to steal that term, it fits so well), while overall I am sad, and so very grateful to have had her so long.