Finding Choice in Difficult Times

and having certainty beyond logic

For those who know me personally, this may be surprising to hear, but finding emotions like happiness, gratitude, and joy have always been difficult for me.

“Positive” emotions as they say…

But why?

The first time I became acutely aware of this seeming defect, I was about 8 or 9 years old. My parents had neighbors and friends over, our house was filled with people and laughter, and I recall standing in the kitchen, looking around at everyone, feeling a deep sense of existential sadness.

“Why does happiness sometimes feel so hard? Why does it seem so easy for other people?”

This memory is etched into my brain.

While I don’t over rely on tools like astrology and human design, I must say, they have been instrumental in helping me understand the emotional weight I have carried my entire life.

If you speak astrology and human design — I’m referring to my Moon conjunct my Chiron in Cancer in the second house, as well as being an Emotional Projector with Channel 39-55.

If that sounds like gibberish and you do not speak astrology and human design, that basically means that I walk around the world feeling like my heart is an open, gaping wound, all whilst being on an emotional roller coaster where I feel deep sadness and grief at any given moment, for no apparent reason.

Lovely.

Over the years, I’ve learned so much about my emotions. It’s ultimately what drew me to a spiritual path.

This past weekend, I was visiting one of my dearest friends

Rohini Mauk

in Tennessee. Something to know about Ro: she is the strongest human being I know. I know that people who go through difficult things don’t like to be labeled as strong, but how else does someone survive the unexpected death of their beloved mother, followed by the unexpected death of their 3.5 month old daughter within a years time?

I’m not sure. But I know it requires a level of emotional and spiritual strength that I’m not sure I have. I’m utterly convinced she was sent to Earth on one of the greatest spiritual missions. In fact, I believe that all parents who have lost a child are on the greatest spiritual mission of all… here to realize the ultimate truth: that at the end of the day, we only ever have God.

On the final day of our visit, just hours before getting in the car to drive back to NC, I tore my meniscus in a silly accident and was laid up on her sofa, while she held space for my tears and pain.

In my emotional, pain-riddled state, I started weeping over the inevitable fact that I will someday lose my parents (something I’ve dreaded since about age 5 — for several years in elementary school I was convinced my parents were going to die in a car accident in the rain — past life memory?)

She stood there, bouncing her 8 month old, beautiful, healthy baby boy, with tears in her eyes and said something to the effect of: “when you lose the ones you love, there’s nowhere else to go… no one else to lean on but God.”

Spirituality becomes utterly simplistic in these moments. No crystals, no ceremonies, no plant medicines, no show. If you can let yourself feel it, grief is the quickest doorway to God, always.

Now this leads me back to my point — choice.

Recently, I have been studying Kabbalah. If you’re thinking of Madonna in the 90’s and red bracelets, yes… that Kabbalah. No, it’s not a relgion or a cult — it’s thought of as an ancient map, or secrets if you will, to the “universe”. That sounds really fluffy and new agey, but I promise it’s actually incredibly simple and insightful. I plan to write a more in depth piece about where I’m currently at on my spiritual journey, because it has been nothing short of just that… a journey.

Kabbalah often speaks of a concept referred to as “certainty beyond logic.” In short, despite what our logical mind may say about a difficult situation, can we have absolute certainty that God is guiding us? Even in the worst of situations, can we trust that it has a purpose beyond what we can see in this moment? And in that trust, can we let go of fear and control, and lean into God’s plan for us?

One of the first lessons of Kabbalah is to essentially give thanks for hardship and triggers — whether that be an annoying driver on the highway, a colleague who stole money from you, a partner who’s cheating on you, a shitty parent or ill-behaved child — and to say “what a pleasure!” Or “what a gift!”

It’s become somewhat of a joke in this household — things will be tense, or something not ideal will happen — and one of us yells: “what a gift!!” Which always turns into laughter.

But really… what if it is a gift?

This practice has helped me find choice when I’ve otherwise had a terribly difficult time finding it.

Can you recall a time in life that felt really difficult, only to learn that it had a purpose? We can hardly ever see it in the moment, but can we trust it?

For me, that moment is happening now with my torn meniscus.

I’m laid up in bed, I cannot walk, I am in terrible pain, I find myself in tears every few hours.

And yet… might this be a gift?

I have to trust that it is serving a purpose.

Why do I have to do that? Because it’s happening, and I cannot change it. I can only learn from each next step - or hobble in my case - but that is true for all of life.

The good, the bad, the highs, the lows.

Viktor Frankl, an Austrian psychiatrist who survived Auschwitz, wrote Man’s Search for Meaning — a book about his time in concentration camps and his ability to choose forgiveness and compassion in the most unforgivable circumstances. He describes moments of recognizing the shared humanity of even his oppressors. Not as a way of forgiving atrocities, but as part of his belief that no one is defined entirely by circumstance.

“When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.” - Viktor Frankl

I’ve come to learn that it’s not about choosing happiness, per se, but about choosing to trust in life and in God, no matter the situation.

Because as Rohini said, at the end of the day, what else do we have?

We will leave this Earthly plane with nothing but ourselves. No money, no clothes, no houses, no cars, no animals, no humans — just us and God.

And so, I invite you to see a challenge you face today as a gift, no matter the level of pain, discomfort, anger, frustration, or heartbreak it is causing you.

Because God always has a plan.