by Jill MacGregor
There is a wind that kicks up in me on a regular basis—an enormous dust devil that obscures my view, a tornado that picks up my house but never sets it down gently. Do you feel it? The sharp gnawing in your gut? Oh, yes, its hunger and yes, it’s for nourishment—but not food. That feeling is a little cupcake called gimme, frosted with neediness and topped with tiny, little sprinkles of unnecessary torment.
So much in life is obvious, in fact apparent, and we could see it, if we’d look–if we’d point our focus outside instead of inside. The responsibility is ours to focus in the direction of have, instead of have not. It’s our responsibility to notice beauty even if it’s wrapped in pain. It’s ours to see the opportunity in any seeming hardship or unfairness. The onus is on us to understand what we’ve gained with each loss.
Our focus can fill life with bounty instead of scarcity, with more instead of less. We’re responsible for the give and take, for the steal and borrow, for the need and the desires in each of our lives.
Sometimes, it feels like I sit at an overcrowded table…sit with a giant, hungry family…and on this table, there are a few tiny bowls of stale saltines. We are hon-gray throwing each other a quick side eye, waiting for the grabbing to commence. Like a horrible game of musical chairs, it is obvious before start that someone’s going to get left out. There’s not enough for everyone. Because everything is fixing to run dry—and we all want the same things. We are greedy. We NEED. We WANT. We’ve waited and we’re tired of being patient.
I increase my internal volume until I can finally hear a different voice—a voice that says, there is enough for everyone. There is enough love, success, talent, money, happiness, reward, acclaim, esteem, acknowledgement, all the things that feed us—these things don’t flow from a tiny well that is near depletion—even if our glass never feels quite full. These things flow from a limitless spring that is constantly fed by other sources. Sources that never run dry regardless of how much we claim.
I struggle to remember that there is enough for everyone as I compete with myself to accomplish new goals, as I shuffle around in the dark trying to gather up all of the elusive things that I believe will make me ME. I grit my teeth and furrow my brow as I witness things that I want—no, have earned, deserve—effortlessly fall into the lap of others while I crazily grab at butterflies as they fly up, up , up out of my reach.
If life were a buffet, I would understand the breathless anticipation we feel as we wait for our turn in line to RECEIVE—so fearful that the person in front of us is going to get the last delicious morsel that we have been waiting so long and so patiently for.
Goodness is not finite.
Someone is not going to take the last chunk of love or success or plenty or happiness that you’ve been longing for—all the things you’ve desired, worked for and felt you deserved—because there is enough for everyone.
No one’s going to take the love that is yours—it’s just waiting for you to claim it.
No one’s going to rob you of the success you’ve worked for—you can make it yours without elbowing and cutting to the front of the line.
No one’s going to pilfer the thing you’ve been working hard to acquire, the thing you’ve been searching the horizon to so hard to see, the thing you’ve worked to open yourself up to experience—when you are ready (and unfortunately you are not always the person who gets to decide that) it will all come to you.
It’s all about perspective. Point yourself toward the have, not the have not.
