I don’t know about you, but I have barely begun to grasp that it’s 2013, and now they’re playing “Jingle Bells” in Walgreens. How did this happen? The months zipped by like red Camaros. And now there is the “reckoning” with ourselves– did we use and live our year the way we meant to?

If you’re feeling as though you wish you’d moved closer to your ultimate dreams, I have a story/ritual to share. I want to give you a pivotal way to open to the abundance that is heading your way right now.

When my latest book Inspired & Unstoppable: Wildly Succeeding in Your Life’s Work! first got released into hard cover, I was feeling anxious and fearful, about how much I “hadn’t gotten done,” and how the time had crept up on me. I hadn’t finished designing the website. I hadn’t come up with a book launch and I hadn’t become confident, pithy, slim, or organized or blonde. I couldn’t sleep. I felt like I was running out of chances, and running out of steam. I had such a limited time to become perfect, and I was so far behind. If I’d met you at a party, my name badge would have said, “Hello, I’m Overwhelmed.”

I drove to the mountains to see this woman, a coach, a friend had mentioned. We talked and then we hiked to a field where a raging stream ran.

Mary told me to step into the river.

The water was ice cold and the current ferocious, but she found a place where I could easily stand in the middle. My ankles stung from the cold, then turned numb. (My first lesson: Shocking discomfort didn’t kill or stop me; my “comfort zone” would expand.)

The generous Colorado sun beat down upon me in full summer radiance. The water was as frisky as kittens playing with a sock, splashing my legs heedlessly as though they were rocks.

We prayed out loud. Yes, this is what some of us intelligent, creative types do here in Colorado, in the beauty of the wilderness. Then she turned up the sassy factor. She commanded that I release all that I’d been worrying about, all I “should have, would have, and could have done.”

She pointed to the water rushing behind me, and pretended it was carrying away everything I’d intended to— but didn’t accomplish.

“Woops, there goes the email campaign you could have done for the book,” she hooted. “Whoa, there’s a great idea for a book launch that just rushed by you. Oh my, someone else downstream just got it, loves it, will become a New York Timesbestseller. I watched a leaf fly by on the current of the water, just as she said those words. There was no saving it. “Oh, look, there go the phone calls you didn’t make. There go the emails you didn’t answer.” I yanked my head back in that direction, watching the current sweep twigs, leaves, debris with it. I felt helpless. I wanted to dive in after them. I wanted to rescue every single one of them. I wanted a do-over. But the current was moving too fast.

I kept looking behind me, missing anything new that might be coming my way. She kept speaking faster. I couldn’t keep up. I couldn’t make it right. And finally I croaked the magic words. “Everything is out of control,” I said. “I can’t keep up.” This shaman-priestess- Midwestern woman prodded me on. “Yes,” she said, “What else?”

“I can’t control it. I’m not in control.” The words tumbled from my lips as slippery as the water itself.

And then I laughed, the laugh of those who have gone too far and know they are never coming back the same. I laughed at the age old joke of trying to control my life as though this time maybe I just might. I laughed as I remembered every other time I had surrendered, come to realize that there was something bigger than my self-will and it wasn’t my laziness or stupidity, it was my alignment to something essential, majestic, and mysterious, something that felt like True Life.

I just stood there and felt what it would feel like to let go. I felt giddy. I felt naked. It felt dangerous and wholesome at the same time. She asked me if I could forgive myself, because maybe, just maybe I couldn’t have done anything differently than I’d done it, and maybe, just maybe, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter a fig, or a battered leaf or a broken twig. For just a split second, I dropped my anger, ache and weight. I dropped my failures. I felt like jelly. I let go of thudding disappointments, so many of them, a sack of potatoes, heavy as hell, black rot fermenting in the bottom of the bag.

I let go of my inadequacy, the part of me that felt immobilized when it came to doing all the things I imagine more “ambitious” people do. I realized it was gone, done. I couldn’t get back the time. And later, much later, like maybe years, I’d realize that I wouldn’t even want to get back that time and do it differently. That in fact, I’d moved in perfection. I moved in my own rhythm and it was its own genius. I didn’t have to do all those other things. I had to do what I could do. I was meant to follow the flow of my being, over the force of my intellect.

Then she had me look in front of me. “What do you see?” she said. “A forceful current,” I said. Tell me more about it. “It’s strong. It’s relentless.” I said. “Do you think it’s going to stop bringing new energy?” she said. “Not anytime soon, that’s for sure.”

She didn’t have to say the rest. I got where she was going. I started to cry with silent, sloppy, juicy gratitude. I beheld the energy of that current. I felt like a disciple seeing the anointing eyes of Christ, and I’m a reformed Jew, for Christ’s sake, oops. I saw Buddha, Allah, inventors, poets, humanitarians, and mothers feeding their children.

I saw this loving current of life, how it would always give and create fresh possibilities.

The water surged forward, filling in gaps, renewing itself with spontaneous, impossible abundance, and I realized life was always rushing at us—with new developments, ripples, redemption, and chances to offer us, instant after instant after instant.

“I’ve been so busy looking at all I haven’t done or don’t have, that I haven’t been aware or available to what’s coming my way.” I said.

Now I saw nothing but endless, fierce abundance. I remembered a lesson from A Course in Miracles that says, “Let miracles replace all grievances.” I got it. It was all a matter of consciously applying my focus. Grievances came from looking backward. But miracles come from focusing on the life in front of me, and the power of the current.

Love isn’t linear. It’s infinite, creative, and regenerative. And, likewise, your wildly inspired life doesn’t depend on what you have or haven’t experienced in the past.

The past doesn’t create the future. The present does. You can experience a miracle at any second. You don’t know how any of this can happen. And yet it can. Drop your burdens.

Opportunities will keep rushing at you.

It’s the nature of life. It doesn’t matter how many situations you’ve blown or missed or turned into nightmares. We live in an abundant Universe. It’s always waiting to help you turn your life around. It’s rolling out the goodies as we speak.

I don’t know if Santa Claus is real or not, but I know that Brilliant Love is. I know that every day it’s the Season of Giving in a Loving Universe and we are the children of this universe. It doesn’t even matter if we’ve been naughty or nice or written mean things in our journal and underlined them twice. It’s not about what we think we deserve. It’s about how much we’re willing to receive unexpected good, and meet our lives with joy.

It takes wild courage to start again. It takes power to drop the past and give everything to our current lives. But there is a current here. It is the nature of life to sting you, startle you, energize you and carry you into the life in which you belong. The current will move you forward. It’s the nature of an unlimited love. It’s the nature of Spirit.

This holiday season, give others the gift of forgiving and freeing yourself– and stepping, once again, into the current of believing in your dreams. Let go of what didn’t happen this year the way you thought it should. The Universe is always giving. There’s so much love coming down the pike. There are ideas, shifts, and opportunities flying your way. There are so many chances to begin again and again and it’s always the perfect time and you’ve never missed out. It’s all here for you now. Only we limit what we allow ourselves to receive.

Copyright © Tama Kieves  All rights reserved.

Tama J. Kieves is the bestselling author of THIS TIME I DANCE! Creating the Work You Love (How One Harvard Lawyer Left It All to Have It All!) and is a sought-after speaker and career coach who has helped thousands world-wide to discover and live their true work in the world. Visit her at www.ThisTimeIDance and sign up for free inspiration and support through her monthly e-newsletter or download her Free Transformational Report on “Finding Your Calling Now.”
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