05.18.2022

“How could I possibly explain the great freedom that comes from realizing to the depth of your being that life knows what it’s doing?”

— Michael Singer, The Surrender Experiment: My Journey into Life’s Perfection

This text was copied directly from an email I sent to my list on April 21, 2022. If you’d like to receive my emails, hop on the newsletter here. 🙂

Greetings from Bali, island of the Gods. Birds and frogs and critters chirp and chatter as I write this from my balcony.

I'm living in the kind of place where a new piece of gecko poo appears on your floor at night but is gone the next morning as some other creature has gobbled it (I don't care to know what type).

That detail is entirely gratuitous—nothing to do with the moral for you—but this will be a more personal note, because riding a scooter around Bali trumps even the shower as a context for mining insights about my life.

Recently I've been reflecting on flow vs. force.

I just sat with a man who successfully exited his startup, and is now dabbling in angel investing and plotting his next move.

He's filtering with the question, "Is this how I want to spend my next 10-20 years?"

I admire the commitment. To think like that is to be willing to devote yourself completely. It means vision, it means legacy.

But it can't possibly mean plan. Nor guarantee. Nor, "This is the way it will be."

I've been circled by another message lately, from several of my teachers. They've been speaking about surrender. They've been speaking about the ego's will vs. life's unfolding.

Flow vs. force.

Initially, my mind was like, "🤫 I don't want to hear this. Why is this message following me? I've got plans. I can do ANYTHING I WANT."

And then, as I wrote in my last letter/post, I faced more setbacks.

I felt frustrated, and confused, but quietly, beneath it all, not all that disappointed.

You can see, in that post, I was still forcing my will. No surrender. But again, recently, something clicked. Maybe it came off the clarifying week I spent bedridden and sick.

I've lost my desire—for now, anyway—to push for things.

Instead I've become interested in the unfolding.

Rather than use my mind to craft a vision, one imbued with logic and what makes sense and what is right, I'm letting my response to each moment lead me. I'm following my body rather than my brain.

We do burn out when we try too hard to figure things out.

On the flip side, life can be so satisfying when we flow with what is presented.

In practice, that means putting your worries down and responding to what's in front of you.

Here's a simple example:

I had to book a return flight from Indonesia in order to enter the country. I don't actually know my plan, and I didn't want to figure it out. Being imposed upon by the visa constraints might have sent my mind on a mission to figure it out, whirring on the pros and cons of flying to this city vs. that city, comparing the costs, factoring in friends I'd like to visit and events I'd like to attend.

Instead I let my gut instinct buy me a flight right back to Los Angeles, where I'd come from, on the date my Airbnb ends, even though I have no business there on May 21st and I might like to stay in Bali longer. I don't know yet, but I will when I need to.

In the meantime, the decision was simple. There's nothing I can do that can't be undone. Thus there's really nothing to think about.

I held onto the energy I'd have burned processing and stayed with the flow of life.

This is working for me, and I know it because during a daily practice, I found myself saying, "I have everything I want."

And to my surprise, it felt true. Things aren't going to plan, but I'm satisfied.

What a wild ride. How about you, is this a theme presenting in your life?

I know I'm not the only one with a wayward plan or two, and I'd love to hear your reflections. Write me back. 💌

Until next time—

​Rachel​

PS: listen to my favorite song if you need a little help flowing with life. It's just perfect. Jon Hopkins is brilliant. Ram Dass is enlightened. And the mix of them is magic.

PPS: If you signed up for this newsletter ages ago and this is the first time you've heard from me, I'm sorry. Squarespace and my email platform weren't syncing. Oops! Thanks for being here.