Step by Step is the Only Way to Complete My Journey

Following the path of my life step by step (Image courtesy of worldofmiri.com)

And why skipping ahead is not possible

This lesson involved a lot of jetlag.

Step by step.

I keep getting this message whenever I reflect on my life path.

Move forward step by step.

Imagine climbing a tall mountain. The staircase winds through ditches and valleys, up steep inclines, around rocks, underneath trees, passing fresh springs with lush bushes, and then again across barren stone.

This is the path of my life and if I want to reach the top, I need to set one foot after the other, following the track with every twist and turn.

Skipping a step is not possible. Leaving out a step is not possible. Resisting a step is not possible. Seeing the end of the staircase is out of the question.

It drives me mad.

I like to be in control.

I like to know where my journey is going.

I like to see the great picture and every single step on the way.

I want a precise outline of the events unfolding.

I want to understand why something is happening.

I like to analyze what is going on.

I question the whats and whys.

If my mind cannot put it together in a satisfying manner, I feel resistance.

Resistance towards the next step and the next lesson.

Resistance towards the unknown, the insecurity, and the question marks that keep arising.

Of course, I know it is unhealthy, and futile, trying to make sense of everything. The contemplating and worrying keeps me in a state of alert, burning up my resources. It does not make life easier.

The overall lesson is to surrender into the divine flow of life, and to believe I am safely guided towards my future. This requires trust and faith.

I often lack these.

Before the pandemic, we went back to Germany twice within a year. This was not our usual pattern. With a trip that can easily last more than 35 hours door-to-door, the jetlag, and overall time spent, we went once per year or every other year. That year was different.

We booked a trip to celebrate Christmas, excited to reintroduce our children to our Christmas traditions. Imagine bitter cold and rain, everything outside lost in various shades of grey, including people’s faces, contrasting beautifully with indoors brimming with candles, smells of gingerbread and fresh pines, feeling warm and soft.

After living in Australia most of their lives, our children think Christmas involves scorching heat causing candles to bend over graciously, church service in thongs because other shoes are too hot, a dip right before Christmas Dinner, and a plastic tree because pines just don’t last.

Shortly after we arranged everything for our journey, my mother-in-law announced a family reunion six months later to celebrate her seventieth birthday. It was out of question we’d go.

I did not commit happily.

These trips, as wonderful as they are, put a strain on me. I tend to get exhausted easily in daily life. A journey like this is beautiful, but extra demanding. We spend hours crammed into small airplane seats, getting over the jetlag, following a tight schedule of “who-to-see” because there are too many wonderful people, not allowing enough ‘me’ time, followed by the reverse trip plus jetlag on the way back. It does not go unnoticed on my body and mental health. It takes me weeks to unwind, process everything, and get back to “normal”. That’s just the way it is.

Adding extra resentment towards that journey did not improve the situation.

In the end, we had a wonderful trip. Everything went smoothly, except for the normal hiccups.

About six months after our second overseas trip, the pandemic struck.

Everything closed down. Australia closed its borders. We could only get in or out with special permission.

I remember one morning, sitting at home with the whole family because schools and offices were closed, when I suddenly understood why we had traveled twice in such a short time.

Who knew when we’d be able visit our family and friends again? This way, we got extra time, a bit like in a savings account where we deposited a load just before we hit a period of drought. Had that not been arranged beautifully?

I’d love to say I handled this insight with glorious serenity. This wasn’t the case.

I experienced strong resistance towards my resistance. Why didn’t I surrender into the experience back then? Had I known this, it would have been easy!

But I didn’t know back then. I had no idea.

In such a situation, it is sensible to take a deep breath, let it all go, smile, accept and forgive, and love myself for everything.

I admit I am still working on that.

This lesson teaches me that a plan and divine light is guiding me and the events in my life. Always.

I know this.

Still, I forget. I rebel against the step-by-step approach. I ask to see the bigger picture. Sometimes, I get glimpses, but the overall image is not clear. The path forward is not visible. The next step on my life’s staircase only appears once I’ve mastered the last one. The rest of the track is lost in fog or maybe just hidden behind the bend.

Who knows what’s waiting tomorrow?