I’ve been berating myself lately for taking the retreat I knew I needed, too. I’ve been feeling anxious; going back and forth in my mind, obsessing on finding new resolutions, new action points that could push me forward in my path. I couldn’t keep myself from asking the Universe, “What’s next? What should I be doing at this point?”
All I’ve been getting was the guidance to stay still, to allow myself to go through this process and above all, to have more patience.
Maybe the Universe knew that all its past efforts were no longer enough to hold me together. I remained anxious. So it sent me a more lasting, more concrete and a more compelling (and really funny) reminder.
Yesterday, as I was walking towards my bedroom, coming out from the bathroom, my view somehow brushed over the top of an old bookshelf. At first I thought my mind was just playing tricks on me. But as soon as I got closer to confirm what I thought I had seen, I knew I was right – on top was a sculpture of Jesus, sleeping like a baby.
I was raised a Catholic, and all my life the images I’ve mostly seen of Jesus were him crucified on the cross, risen from the dead, preaching in public or making miracles. So just imagine my disbelief and amusement when I saw this sculpture.
I’m not religious, but I have a personal affinity with stories about him. I think he’s a very wise and kind person. He’s someone I can be friends with, someone I can trust.
“How could it be there all this time and I haven’t even noticed? Where did this come from? And how come I noticed it now?”, were my initial thoughts.
Two seconds later though, I was already grabbing him by his tummy. I kidnapped Jesus and put him in the altar in my bedroom where my “good-vibes things” chill side-by-side. And he is, literally, the most chill one there now.
Since then every time I start to feel anxious again and lie in bed fully awake – I look at Jesus in complete surrender, trusting that he’s safe to take a rest as long as he needs to.
The Universe’s reminder can never be more clear than this.