Saturday, August 5, 2017

8/6/17—Detaching From Trust

This is NOT my PT Cruiser. Mine was too dirty for a photo shoot and most
of the shots I found online sucked. So imagine this with a roof.
Like many of you here, I was manifestation before manifestation was cool.

It started for me with Deepak Chopra's The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success, a book written more than a decade before The Secret. In fact, I think of The Secret as a longer, inferior version of The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success. Chopra's book, along with Gary Zukav's Seat of the Soul, are the two most influential books (and probably the only two I've read cover to cover) informing my spiritual journey. Both are "hard" to read, in that a lot can go over your head if you're not actively paying to attention and thinking things through. Indeed, Zukav actually wrote a "dummies" version of his book because it was so dense. But those two books really resonated with me early on, and the Chopra book is one I've opened over and over during the past 20 years.

But just because I know something inside out doesn't mean I always practice it perfectly. And thus was the case when my car's check engine light went on over a month ago.

In Virginia, our cars have two inspections they have to go through—a yearly safety inspection and an emissions test you can either do yearly or every two years. I have my safety inspection every July. And almost every July, my check engine light comes on. It always happens on the first really hot day of the year. Most of the time it happens because the gas cap isn't on tight enough. If the gas cap isn't on right, it screws with the effectiveness of your emissions control system.

Many times, I just fill up my tank, make sure my cap is on tight and, after a handful of trips out and about, the light goes off. My car guy says you have to go at least 70 miles before it will go off. So I tightened the cap and drove a couple weeks (since I don't commute, I don't put a lot of miles on my car). But the light didn't go off. By this time, I'm getting worried...thinking of it a few times a day. If the light doesn't go off, that means it is not a loose gas cap and could cost upwards of $600 to fix. And I just don't have that to throw away right now.

So I decide that, because my car is 13 years old, maybe it's time for a new gas cap. So I order one online. And I wait. And I worry. Then it comes and I install it. And I wait. And I drive. And I worry. And now nearly a month has passed of going into into stress mode daily. I try to keep it at bay with a gut check. And I pull cards. And everything tells me everything is going to be OK. But still I worry. Then July 31 rolls around.

It was a stressful day. I had to find a way to put a good 50+ miles on the car, then when I'm out on the road, a client schedules a phone conference with me that starts in an hour. So I immediately go home before the 50 miles are up to take the call. Then when the call is over, I debate...should I just go and fail the inspection, which puts a two-week clock on fixing the car? Or should I evade the police as long as possible...haha?

Ultimately, I decide to just go and fail inspection. But then something happened. See, I once asked my inspection guy if they would ever inspect a car with a check engine light on and he said no. But either I didn't ask the question right or he misunderstood, because they actually don't care if your light is on during a safety inspection. They only care when you're testing emissions, which I don't need to do for another year. So, long story short, my car passed inspection. And all my worrying was for naught. In fact, all my worrying from many Julys past was for naught. 

See, I had forgotten Deepak's Law of Detachment. Not forgotten, really, but was ineffective when using it. And it's really one of the key laws...and the hardest to do. Because once you've put an intention out into the universe, you're supposed to detach from it. And trust. And by detachment, that means you don't worry about it (because worry sends out an intention of worry, sending nothing but more worry back your way) and you don't pathologically drive your car in hopes of effecting a result. You just let go and trust.

And once I got my car inspected, another thing happened. An intense exhaustion washed over me. It lasted all that night and all the next day. With the exception of one phone call I had to take the next day, I literally slept the day away. This was as bad, or worse than, my worst days back when I wasn't being treated for asthma. In fact, I hadn't felt that exhausted since I had been diagnosed. Then the next day I was fine. The only explanation I can think of is that the cumulative effects of a month of worry took their toll. All because I couldn't let go and trust.

For the post-menopausal woman, life never lets you get too far along without reminding you you're no longer as young and resilient as you once were. I guess this was one of those times. I believe I've had far more stressful things happen without having that kind of effect, but maybe having this on top of a general stress I've been having all year was too much. But it also reminded me to detach and trust. I do tend to try to control my environment too much. I'm good about trying not to control people, but I do like my life to be predictable and worry free. And when things fall apart, I take too much of that on, physically, psychically and emotionally. So reminder taken.

And if you're wondering about my gut check, I'll say that I think it's always correct. It's more reliable than tarot or a pendulum for me. It takes some practice to see how your gut talks to you, so give it some time and effort. Here you go:
Sit down and relax in a quiet place—no music or distractions. Once you're settled in, breathe deeply in and out a few times. Once you feel centered, quiet and still, then make a declarative statement to yourself quietly as you inhale. For example, "My car will pass inspection." Don't ask a question. Make a statement. Then, as you exhale, monitor your gut. If it feels relaxed and more expansive, you will pass inspection. If there is a slight, barely detectable sniggle in your gut, you'll probably pass, but with a small condition. And if you feel any sort of discomfort or butterflies, whether it comes at the beginning or the end of the exhale, you're probably going to fail inspection. Sometimes I will follow that by stating, "I will fail inspection." Then I'll see how that feels in my gut. That helps for times your first gut check is inconclusive. Or when you're super insecure. 
This is how it works for me and you will need to calibrate how it works for you over time. But it is a worthy tool to cultivate because, while I didn't listen well this time, it has helped me detach and trust more times than I can count. And, like I said, while I can remember times my fear got in the way of it, I can't remember it ever being wrong. 

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