Whispering Angels

Let me just open this one up by saying that I am not really into angels. If you find you read the first paragraph of this blog post and wonder when I jumped on the spiritual bandwagon to fruit loop town, please just keep reading.

“If you stay very still in life and in nature, you will hear us.”

This is the quote, spoken by the instructor, which served as the opening words for the yoga class I took yesterday. She explained that she had seen the quotation on a calendar at another studio where she practiced yoga this past weekend. Accompanying the words on the calendar were drawings of angels.

This whole situation is one which a year or two ago I think I would have groaned audibly, maybe physically left the class, and definitely would have emotionally and mentally tuned out from the first mention of the word “angel.” If you know anything about me and my history with people talking about and to angels, then this reaction would come as no surprise.

Yesterday, however, I found myself sort of moved.

I am not saying that I now feel the idea of angels whispering to us as they flitter around unseen and unnoticed by the general population is something with which I feel completely at ease. Or even something with which I feel remotely at ease.

Because the truth of the matter is that I do not really get it.

Of course, I understand the concept of the angels, but the logistics of the meaning behind my instructor’s quotation made no initial sense to me.

Frankly, the lack of the tangible can be hard for me to intellectually grasp, and so I often dismiss things, concepts, and ideas that do not have concrete "answers." But I want to be able to grasp such notions. I want to not “need” to have answers to every question I ask.

I am trying to work through these personal cognitive hurdles because, it seems to me, in order to evolve mentally and emotionally, it appears necessary; it seems that to be happy with myself and my place in life, requires quite a lot of acceptance for the fact that there are often no tangible answers.

Moreover, it seems the questions we ask with the most frequency and the most urgency are those with the most elusive “solutions.” Questions about love, happiness, closure, the future.

As someone who has trouble “staying in the question,” I also have trouble believing that the (presumably wise) words of angels are being whispered within my hearing range at all times. Is it really just up to me to silence all the “other,” to prick up my ears, to make a concerted effort to listen, in order to be granted some much needed sage counsel? Is it? I mean honestly: Angels? Whispering? Really?

But of course, once I spend a few minutes thinking about it all, I realize that is not the point. The point is that you can believe in angels or you cannot believe in angels. You can believe in God, you can believe in ghosts, you can believe in granola. None of that is what matters. Really. You can pray, you can swear, you can pray and swear in the same sentence. You can eat organic vegetables or you can eat ho-hos. None of that is what matters.

At least none of that is what matters surrounding my own interpretation of this whole idea of whispering angels. You may have another take altogether, but that is for you and your blog, so let us continue.

The point is that we will never hear anything if we do not take the time to listen. We will never allow a new idea to come unbidden if we continue the cycle of constantly cluttering our minds and bodies with whatever we can stuff into ourselves.

It is like the idea of cleaning out your closet. You may not think your particular closet needs any purging. You might think: “Well, everything fits in there right now, so why do I need to make room? Make room for what exactly?”

Well, I will tell you what it is exactly that you need to make room for: You need to make room for life.

Not to boss you around or anything.

But it makes sense. We expend so much energy filling up the "voids," the empty spaces, the closets of our life, that we really do not leave a whole lot of room for the unexpected to fit in.

In my own life, lately, I have been feeling very overwhelmed. I often feel overwhelmed when I am uncertain of my next step, or steps, in life. Without going into the details of what is confusing me, I feel it is important to share that I have a lovely life. I am a generally happy person who works hard to create a reality for myself that is constantly evolving and improving.
I am not always successful, in fact there are times when I rarely seem so, but I am always aware of the possibility of success.

It might now be obvious that I do not like the gray area. So--too bad for me--at this particular moment in time, I acutely feel uncertainty. I am not sure how my life will transpire over the next few years. Of course no one does; there are always a lot of unknowns. But there are times when all of the unknowns seem to be ganging up together and eclipsing all that I do know. This is one of those times.

And I dislike that—why hide my knowns from me? It seems sort of cruel.

So now my unknowns are taking center stage. Some of the most visceral of the wily unknown gang: Will I have children? Will my family, and the few close family members about whom I worry almost constantly, soon uncover happiness and peace? What is this concept of “home” and how do I define it? Am I any closer to finally understanding that the happiness of others is not my responsibility?

Anyway, back to my point, whenever I am overwhelmed by life’s uncertainty, by where the next stone on my path will be set (likely only to be moved, and re-moved countless times again), I seek answers. Any answers. But now, as I try to "stay in the question," I am learning that the quick fix, however instantly gratifying it can be, is only that: a quick fix.

I am learning that to grab on to the quick fixes, the most readily available solutions, is only serving to clutter up my proverbial closet. These "solutions" are merely filling my life with noise that is, in essence, not saying a darn thing, but is acting as a very effective distraction. I am learning that what I could most benefit from, in moments like these, is stillness--a chance to allow a new solution to develop, an angel to whisper, and all that jazz.

It is becoming clear to me that a big part of my uneasiness at these times of personal uncertainty is that I do not want to disappoint the people in my life whom I love. I worry that these people will be disheartened when they learn I have made a decision for myself that they would not make for themselves. I do not want to let people down by not following the path I think they think I ought to follow, the path that they thought I would follow, the path that makes “sense,” the path that I, for all intents and purposes, “should” be following.

But then I remember what I always seem to be telling other people: “should” and “ought” are icky, bad, evil words. If I live my life by what I “should” be doing—by my own or anyone else’s (real or imaginary standards), then I really “should” have just checked out a long time ago.

And, really, who am I to presume to know what other people really think? Who am I to put words, ideas, and judgments in their mouths about me?

I will tell you who I am. I am me. And the fact that I worry so much about letting other people down really only means one thing: I am worried about letting myself down.

Sometimes I am so fearful of doing the wrong thing, of making the wrong step or the wrong decision that I either jump headlong into the first thing that comes my way, or I just sit around and talk about all that I will or will not do, without ever doing anything. Basically, I fill my life, my minds, and all my "closets" with noise and clutter because it erroneously seems to be a "solution" to the silence that I sometimes fear above all else. And yet, I am starting to learn that it is only in the space of quiet that the real revelations manifest.

All that considered, maybe it is obvious why the words of the yoga instructor moved me yesterday. Maybe what I need to be doing is just listening for those darn angels.

With that I better sign off. I can only really listen if I shut up long enough to do so.