So great to be reminded of these not unconnected truths.

I also wonder if part of what enables the saying no to expectation is the feeling that there is something else coming through, even, and especially when I’m not quite sure what it is, but I have an inkling that it’s worth the risk.

But recognising the lived experience is priceless.

Sometimes it takes a while to see the new thing and sometimes it’s already there.

A bit like losing those baby teeth… sometimes there’s an awkward gap.

This week in my own life I closed the door on the retreat I’ve been talking about for months.  I was excited about it – but that’s not enough.  Such a humbling reminder that it’s one thing to organise an event, and another for the guests to show up.   Always gratitude and appreciation for those who accept an invitation.

But this is not feeling like a huge loss, because it simply did not resonate with enough people at this time.  Lesson learned.   And in shedding it has split into multiple pieces that are already sprouting independently, in different places and times.     I’ll be talking more about some of them going forward.

Right now though, acknowledging the truth that letting go of something that was not working is simultaneously creating space for something new that is also wiser and more informed for the experience.  Built on it.  The past is not forgotten, but foundational, when we are able to make a conscious transition.

So there is no failure there, only learning and expanding.   Uncomfortable as that often is.

Those deeply conditioned expectations in my case are definitely around being the good girl.  Competent, organised and making it look effortless.   Also, not asking for help.

I’ve been reading “Acedia and me” by Kathleen Norris recently.  It’s a reflection on internal resistance to doing our real spiritually creative work in life, based on ancient and timeless Christian monastic principles.  I have plenty of reflexive resistance myself to religious guidance after twelve years of Catholic schooling.  And am simultaneously intrigued by the mystic traditions of Christianity.

It’s a beautifully written book – the author is a poet in between and before best selling memoirist.

I struggled to find a workable takeaway until right towards the end, when I started paying more attention to the concept of sin.   Defined as knowing something is wrong/harmful, and doing it anyway.   But this is not the end, is the point I eventually recognised.   Earlier in the book she notes that the church is built by sinners, for sinners.    Hmmm.   And the ancient wisdom that brought it home for me 

“Brother, the monastic life is this: I rise up and I fall down, I rise up and I fall down, I rise up and I fall down”. 

But in this repeated ebb and flow, the danger is that I will grow weary and more easily discouraged, less able to appreciate that grace is as real and as available to me as acedia.  If I am inspired by some good thought, if I aspire to do better next time, I am not a fool.  I am.only being the person I was created by God to be.

The paradoxically auspicious nature of sin.  For only when I become aware of how badly I am acting…. Can other, better possibilities emerge.

This reminded me eventually of another book about Christian mystic tradition “The great cloud of unknowing”, which directed the reader to meditate on two simple words “God” and “sin”.  I was confused by why these two would be held together.

Until I suddenly understood that it is only through truly acknowledging and owning – and in that moment releasing – our sins/vulnerabilities that it becomes possible to recognise and fully receive grace and love.   We go down, and we are lifted.   This is profoundly humbling and awe inspiring.

And then I was looking into some symbols of Eid Fitr, the celebration marking the end of Ramadan, the Islamic month of fasting.    In Malaysia, ketupat rice cakes are traditionally prepared wrapped in a pocket of woven palm leaves.    

“Remember the basic principle of weaving ketupat:  atas, bawah, atas, bawah (up, down, up, down)”

Ancient wisdom—across spiritual traditions—holds space for this ebb and flow. Whether in monastic teachings, mystical traditions, or cultural rituals, there’s a shared understanding that we rise and fall, over and over. 

The key isn’t to avoid falling but to recognize that grace, renewal, and transformation always follow.

The real work is not in preventing the fall but in trusting that rising again is just as natural, just as inevitable.

 And that there are people around us who will meet us with love and care wherever we are in the cycle, if we allow that.  Starting with ourselves, and our own curiosity about where we are at, rather than judging and categorising as good or bad, show or hide

.

Leading to Ominous optimism, which also showed up in my life this morning.- 

You will be ok.  You have no choice.

Everything will turn out fine.  You cannot stop it.

You will succeed.  It is inevitable.

Better days are coming.   It’s too late now.

Happiness will find you.  You can’t escape it.