week 40: when the rug is pulled from under you

this week on the little dream farm

I really didn’t want to write about this.

As much as I’ve never minded sharing my heart and being vulnerable—even in an online space, it’s different when you’re in the midst of the hard thing to be able to say much of anything.

It’s like that friend you catch up with who you haven’t spoken to in a while and they tell you about this really trying thing they’ve been dealing with for months.

I’m so sorry this has been happening for you! Why didn’t you call me?! is what you’d likely say in response.

And there’s no good answer other than, sometimes when you’re in the thick of it you’ve just got to hang on tight to whatever comfort and safety you can while you get over the initial shock, ride the wave of feeling all the feelings, grieve as you need to, and then get yourself ready to get back in the game.

Three weeks ago, I found out just 12 days before my Air Force contract—my current full-time job—was set to renew that it no longer would—budgeting shortfalls and the chips not falling as they should. I’d been asking since the summer and my team had been reassuring me that it was almost definitely a done deal, so while I low-level worried about it I tried not to go into panic mode, trusting that the process would work out for the best.

My first reaction to the news? Fear. Panic. Worry. Wishing I’d applied to more jobs in earnest just in case. Kicking myself for not working harder on “the next thing” in order to be able to seamlessly jump from one thing to the next. Overwhelm about what the next thing should be. And a sense of betrayal that I’d actively tried to not worry about the contract renewing only to find out that it wouldn’t.

As an attempt to soften the blow, my boss (who is awesome and this is so far beyond her control), scored me another two months of work so that my contract will end at the end of November, buying me a little more time.

Three days before that news Chris had just returned home from the funeral of one of his long-time friends and an old Air Force buddy who died at the age of 40—only a few years older than the both of us. I’d been spending a lot of time and Chris and I had been talking a lot in that week about how short and precious life truly is.

In the weeks following the job news there’s seemed to be this series of unfortunate events making it feel as if it’s really just one crappy thing after the next. It takes a concerted effort in these times to not add up the sum total of all the crap and chalk it up to everything going wrong, even though I was doing a fair share of that until about midway through this week.

My mom has this saying, “Feel your feelings and grieve as you need to, but give yourself a time limit. And when that timer runs out, do your best to pick yourself up and keep going.” While I did a terribly poor job of setting my own timer in this instance, thankfully our chicken, Opal, who we’re currently treating for an impacted crop, helped snap me out of it.

I was sitting on the porch with her Wednesday afternoon feeling sorry for myself and the litany of things gone wrong. It occurred to me what Opal really needed was for me to get my attitude right in order to best help her heal.

Following the job news I also received word of some concerning bloodwork that made it very clear the stress isn’t doing me any favors.

It occurred to me what I really need is for me to get my attitude right in order for me to best navigate this time, too.

That part about trusting that the process would work out for the best? Sometimes we think we know what’s best…but our lives have something else—oftentimes something so much better and way beyond what we could have imagined—in store for us.

We could have bought this farm from literally anybody but the man we bought this farm from is a spiritual seeker who has spent his life listening and trusting and letting go and meditating and manifesting the life of his dreams.

I called David to catch up about our progress on finishing editing his book and shared with him this news when he asked me how things have been going. It is not lost on me that I’m in the process of editing a book on mindfulness and meditation whilst navigating this.

“It’s perfectly reasonable to be fearful and angry and sad and also to see this as a blessing, Sarah” he said to me. “Sometimes the void can be a very good thing and the most important thing you can do is to listen and allow what is meant to come next to come through instead of trying to control the situation and force what you think should or must happen next.”

As we got off the phone he said with excitement and a playfulness in his voice, “I wish you all the very best in navigating your void!” which really made me laugh out loud.

I believe and I’ve said many times to others that life is always talking to us, but sometimes we’re not all that good at listening. Often, that voice is a still, small, quiet whisper—a gentle inner knowing, if you will. The longer we go not listening or acting in opposition to it or choosing things that maybe feel safe or good but don’t quite get us on our true path…the louder that voice needs to become in order for us to actually pay attention.

It’s easy to look at this situation and say, “My contract didn’t renew and I didn’t get the job and now I don’t have a job and now I don’t know what I’m going to do next.”

When what life is now shouting is:

You’ve been choosing safe and comfortable things and that was ok for a little while but there is more in store for you. In order for you to become aware of that, I’m removing the comfort and that safety net because you are ready to step into the fullness of who you are and what is next for your soul and it cannot come if you remain where you are.

This doesn’t necessarily mean we’re going to know what’s next (spoiler alert: I don’t). But if we can loosen our grip on the need to control the outcome; if we can open our hearts and our minds; if we can flex our trust muscle; if we can create space and then allow what is trying to come through to actually come; then we can sooner and with greater ease and more fully step into the next chapter of our story.

How do I know this? Well, interestingly enough you know it, too. Within each of us is an innate knowing…a deeper wisdom. And that inner wisdom has shown me many times before, just as surely as it has shown you, too, that things always have a way of working out in the end.

As my nervous system begins to regulate from the ups and downs of the past few weeks, I’m continuing to let go of all of my expectations—of what I think I should do next or what I must do next or what must come next.

Now that the fear and worry are starting to subside, I’m beginning to more playfully dream about what I really want for me, for us, and for this farm.

The deeper work for me is that this farm and where we live has evolved so many of the things I previously thought I wanted, and so part of it is letting go of the old in order to begin calling in the new.

I’m keeping close to me the notions that what is for you will not pass you…that sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together…and that we’re not always given what we want in life, but rather, exactly what we most need.

Gosh, there’s so much more that I could say but I’ll leave it here for now.

The only promise I’m asking myself to keep during this time is to be still enough, to get quiet enough, and to listen deeply enough, to allow what is next to come through.

What an adventure it shall be to walk the path and see what’s up ahead!

Micro my little fuzzy editor…forever and always asleep on the job!

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Now I’d love to hear from you!

Tell me about a time the rug was pulled out from under you…it can be in any area of life, doesn’t have to be career-related. How did you navigate it? How’d things shake out in the end? Are you able to see now, looking back, how things worked out for the best? Sharing your experience could really be of benefit to me or someone else!

OR

If you had one piece of advice for me or for someone navigating a similar situation…what would that advice be? Your words could really be of help to me or to someone else!