Spiritual upending in infertility’s aftermath
I have some confessions I need to get off my chest, if only to myself. I’m not big on confessions – after all I was raised as a Unitarian Universalist, not as a Catholic – but they can serve as a starting point of sorts. An “I was there” clarification. An added dot to connect to the dot of where I am now providing a framework for what is really the beefy part of the matter. Which is “how in the world did I get from there to here??”
I purchased “The Secret” DVD back when it was all the rage.
Yes, that’s so cringe worthy I hereby award it its own paragraph. But there’s more. I used to believe (or thought I did) that everything happens for a reason. That we could manifest good things into our lives if we wanted to. That life’s catastrophes had the purpose of evolving the human soul that made it all “worth it”. And I even took it upon myself to presume this of other people’s hardships. I used to believe in meant to be.
At my latest session, my acupuncturist asked if I was still thinking of pursuing yoga teacher training. I alluded to the fact that I had been thinking about it for much longer than I had anticipated I would. “And suddenly you’ll find that you’re in the right place and with the right people and it’ll all make sense why it happened that way,” she offered. Ahh, the good ole cushy belief in law and order in the universe. Although a simple “or maybe not” response would have done the trick, I was caught off guard by my new found repulsion towards this concept. A most unenthusiastic “yeah” was all I could muster. Read more