Every Good Thing That Has Ever Happened to Me

Danny Trejo is one of my favorite speakers. His story is powerful and serves as a reminder that we are, in fact, here to show up for one another lovingly, recklessly, generously, and consistently.

He has often said, “Everything good that has ever happened to me has happened as a direct result of helping someone else.”

And my own life has proven that to be true time and time again.

In the moments when I feel as if I have nothing to give or nothing to contribute, a bright spotlight always seems to turn and focus on things about me I thought were the least valuable, least attractive, and that I was least willing to reveal to others.

The pieces have been moving around for months, and as someone who loves puzzles, I can tell you there is a powerful click that happens when you finally place the right pieces in the right spot, and it all starts coming together.

It usually happens when you stop trying.

So many areas of my life are ridiculously and disproportionately incredible. And my silence around them is indicative of how sacred they are to me.

But one or two areas of my life consistently fall out of alignment with my spirit and daily human existence. At some point, there was an Impulse to put energy into them to try to fix, help, change, or improve.

Then awareness blows through the windows of the situation like a soft breeze, and I suddenly get it.

This is not supposed to get better.

You are not supposed to feel comfortable in this.

Because if I wasn’t made to be uncomfortable, I’d never leave.

So, my sunrise coffee bedhead unwashed face prayer this morning was one of gratitude for discomfort and unhappiness. I mean that. Without them and my razor-sharp discernment and intuition, my foundation of self-worth, and my voice that can kindly yet firmly speak the language of boundaries, I’d never leave.

Surrender is always an accessible option and something to think about when you find yourself in a situation where there is a commitment to failure.

I’d rather surrender and be me (who I love and trust, much to the world's dismay) than fail trying to be something I’m not.