That is exactly how I feel about my life (sometimes, too many days to admit), even though I am also well aware that I am a very blessed woman.
I've had several odds against me, which I've thankfully gone through—and come out of—with a grateful heart, including sexual abuse, family banishment, marriage to a sex addict, and 17 years as a single parent—often without a job for months on end (by choice), and during the recession, no less.
I am not clueless to the fact that I have been beautifully and carefully taken care of during all of it, and most of those years have been incredibly abundant.
But I do wonder why there are still things I have not been able to attain (yet) despite my diligence. I say “yet” because I believe a healthy relationship with a man is on its way, as well as a satisfying income doing the work that lights me up. But I wonder why it has taken so long to materialize these two “measly” things when so much of my life—the big and the small—has fallen into place seemingly effortlessly, over many decades.
After all, I am a Master Manifestor. And I've been tenacious and patient and grateful about manifesting both.
Except when I haven't been.
That's when I've been restless and angry and frustrated that “nothing is working!” despite hours of meditation, daily gratitude writing, and visualizing what I vividly—sometimes desperately—want.
During those times, it still feels like I'm venturing off-track, detouring onto the wrong road. I can see the highway I want to be on, but it's like I'm parallel to it—freaking out from the frontage road—trying desperately to find the path that leads me to the on-ramp of the highway. I want to jump the median to get on the “right” road—the fast track, the road that I think will get me to where I think I need to be.
Then a fellow Coach sent an article by Kate Northrup (“When it Looks Like Nothing is Happening”) that opened up a new perspective:
“You get clear on your desire, do your visualizing, magnetize it every day, and yet see no results. What you want appears to be nowhere in sight. For 9 months you go about your daily life (the best you can) while your belly gets softer and rounder, then swells incrementally each day. There’s not a lot of conscious effort going on. But somehow, an entire human being is formed.”
Then it hit me: What if all of my perseverance and pissiness and persistence means that I am on the right course, and have been all along?
That can only mean that all of my detours and mistakes and travels along the frontage road have been exactly right, and therefore—what I've needed—every step of the way! It's probably why I keep getting messages (from several sources) that I'm “on the right course, don't worry.”
But I do worry.
Because I haven't been able to see how my meanderings along the frontage road will one day get me to the highway. Instead, I see that I'm not quite in the job I want, making enough money, even though I love the job I'm currently doing; and I don't quite have the number of clients I need to support the work I long to do, but I do have workshop clients who love my work; and I don't have a long-term partner, even though I have many supportive men in my life whom I enjoy spending time with.
But according to Northrup,“worrying about whether or not our creation will eventually manifest doesn’t help it grow. And it certainly doesn’t speed the process. In fact, it’s just the opposite. Our impatience acts as a tourniquet on the progress we cannot see.”
And this is probably where I get myself tripped up (and maybe you do, too) because I don't really believe that something is on its way when I haven't been able to see any remnants of it showing up in a long, long (and exhausting) time.
But then I realized something else: aren't most frontage roads often slower, less frantic, and more scenic than congested and traffic-filled highways? It may take longer to get to our destination hanging out on the frontage roads, but it's often much more fun and sometimes, educational.
There has been no need for me (or you!) to long for the fast-track because in due time, the frontage road will eventually deposit me onto the precise road I've been trying to find all along. It has to—because for as long as I can remember, the destination has not left my thoughts. I've been moving toward it for decades.
Slowly. Steadfastly. Eagerly (and yes, often desperately).
Occasionally, I've just needed to get off at the nearest rest stop to take a break. And other times I've needed to slow down and drive the speed limit so I don't go off the road altogether. Sometimes I've had to pick up some passengers, and other times I've had to ask passengers to get out. Still other times I've needed to make a complete U-turn and try again.
But I've never not been on the right road. It has all been leading me somewhere, and it's got to be leading to somewhere great. How do I know this? Because when I am calm enough to remind myself, every road in the past has led to surprising and awesome places, even if they also took me through dark roads lined with fallen trees and unexpected detours along the way.
Just because I don't see my new road from the one I'm currently traveling, doesn't mean it's not there. It has already been created. It is already paved with street signs and lane markers and other people, for heaven's sakes!
“The key is trust. We trust that spring comes after winter. We trust that after 9 months the baby will be ready to come out. May we also trust that what we desire is on our way to us, even if the physical evidence appears to the contrary.”
This has allowed me to settle down (even for just a bit) and learn to enjoy this new frontage road—complete with potholes, construction, and the occasional detour—onto a road I've never traveled before.
I can learn to relax and more easily trust that I will eventually know when it's time to get off the frontage road and follow the signs toward the highway.
After all, I've always known when it was THE right time to leave relationships, jobs, and even states to move cross-country, and it was always in perfect timing.
I invite you to enjoy your own route along the frontage road—complete with snacks and loud music and a slower pace—as you take in the sights that will eventually lead you Home.
I'll be trying to do the same. Perhaps we'll meet at a roadside picnic along the way.