CHAPTER 1
Exit the Norm: "Something's Gotta Change!"
The Call
How we love the SQ, better known as the status quo. In truth, there is no such thing. Everything is always changing — this is fact. But we regularly delude ourselves into holding on to the idea that finally, at last, everything has settled down, and everything is going to remain nicely the same as right now forever — or at least for a good, long while. Sometimes it looks that way, for a while.
But the truth is nothing ever stays the same. The nature of our world is motion. All things are in motion all the time in this third-dimensional plane called Earth. Whether or not we resist it, the river of life is flowing along. We can become rocks in the river, waiting for the great storm to send us tumbling along. We can pout and shout, stomp and resist, take to our bed with the fevers. Or we can let go into the flow of the river, either with or without what we deem as vital accoutrements such as the boat, oars, food, extra clothes, and maybe even a mask and snorkel. We can lay back, hands behind our heads, and float along in a big trust mode. Or we can prepare and prepare, gathering all we may ever need, and finally let go.
But sooner or later we will have to let go, because of the nudges. Remember, all is in motion both inside and outside. Sooner or later, even the most solid of rocks is going to hear a whisper or feel a slight push of something coming. If there's no answering response, soon the rock will feel a stronger swirl, a call in the wind, an unmistakable call for movement.
And heaven forbid if there's still no answer, no movement. You know what happens next. Some call it the hit over the head, or the cosmic shove. Whatever you call it, it's generally not too pleasant. It appears to dramatically upset your world. It usually calls for at least some measure of that word we have been taught to demean, even despise: surrender. Of course, surrendering is very close to that old, nasty phrase give up. We may even be required to allow the final insult: asking for help.
The call can come in many forms. It generally starts with a niggle, almost like an itch at the barest edge of your awareness. You could so easily miss it or dismiss it because it's so subtle. You automatically want to brush it away, like a leaf that softly brushes your skin. "Did I hear something?" Yes, if you are paying attention or have cultivated a practice of noticing even the slightest hints. But most of us haven't.
Along comes the swirling current of a call, which can sound like the buzzing of a mozzie or a fly. Definitely irritating, but definitely a wake-up call. You have to get up and get moving; you have to do something. But what is it? Swat the critter, get rid of it, and lie back down? Or listen a little harder? "Now that I am up, what is it that's trying to get my attention? What was that dream? What am I missing?"
If you are awake enough to begin asking those questions, you'll probably begin noticing some strange coincidences, some synchronicities, some signs from your inner wise woman, some messages from the universe. "The article I just read in the magazine I happened to pick up while waiting in the office. The clear image of a horse in the clouds as I was taking my walk this afternoon. The butterfly that landed on my shoulder yesterday. The conversation with my neighbour, who mentioned Hawai'i — the third time I heard that word today."
Signs and synchronicities come in many ways and forms, and we get a lot of them every day. Mostly they are pretty obvious, and mostly we choose to pay little or no attention to them at all. We could, though. We could cultivate the habit of noticing and paying attention, learning from and getting the guidance from these signs. Mostly we don't, which is too bad because the consequences then become not fun.
We have all had a sledgehammer treatment or known someone who has. It often looks like a challenging health situation, a devastating loss of some kind, or an accident that changes everything. Whatever the event or process, it's as though you have been stripped bare, taken down to the bones, and left to stew. It asks you to listen deeper than ever before; really hear the call for change. It's a call you will never forget. Bit by bit, slowly and gradually in the enforced surrendering and deeper listening, you can come to an acceptance of the call, of the changes, of the wisdom that is growing in you.
Maybe you've heard the whisper and paid attention. Maybe you've read the message of the horse in the cloud. Maybe you've had the horrendous car accident, disease, divorce, or death of a loved one, and you've been forced to surrender to the quiet listening. Whatever your way — and they're all good in the big picture — the call will come. What was will pass away, will Exit.
Before you stretches the unknown, and it's very scary. You can try to run or hide, but the movement is inexorable. There has been a little death, and you are required to face it. By facing it, you begin to see intimations of the new. With every death, every ending, there is always a new beginning. The Exit is the entrance, the revolving door in the dance of life. May we all Exit as gracefully as possible when the call comes.
Misha's Story
At age fifteen, I attended a vocations camp at Knockna Gree, ostensibly to accompany my girlfriend who seriously wanted to be a nun. I hadn't been away from home to a camp or any holiday in my teenage years, so this sounded like a great opportunity. I convinced myself that I didn't really have to consider a religious vocation in order to go to the camp. My goal was to get married and have a family of ten kids: two sets of twins, one set of triplets, and the other three any way they came. But to qualify for the camp, I had to have the recommendation of our school. That was easy; all I had to say was that I would like to go to the camp, and there were no further questions asked. There were four of us from our fifth form class (year eleven) who eventually attended.
In terms of a vocation in life, I wanted to be a doctor but was told that nursing was what was open to girls. This was the early sixties, an era when nursing, teaching, or being a secretary were the usual choices open to women. If you were a Catholic, you could give your life to God in service as a nun. Nowadays there are so many more options for service at home and abroad.
For the most part, I had been schooled through the Catholic system, and in my impressionable years and beyond, we were told and read the stories of the saints, men, and women who gave their lives in service to God. The majority ended their lives in martyrdom and stayed faithful to their beliefs and service in spite of the brutality of the martyrdom. I hid a guilty secret from age twelve, when in class we were asked, after the completion of the story of Saint Maria Goretti (she was murdered at that age for protecting her virginity), if we were prepared to die for our faith. I put my hand up along with the rest of...
