CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

A late summer pep talk for when the car won't start, our heart is racing, and we don't know which way to turn. Plus: writing workshop on 8/18 for paid subscribers!

Thank you for reading Resilience. I appreciate your presence here, however it works for you. Scroll down for info on this Sunday’s writing workshop for paid subscribers. We all need to take a minute, right? Now, for this week’s tiny tale, a jolt to remind us we’re not alone. Sending my best to you all, always. xx, Alexa

Choosing my own adventure!

Oh, summer.

After weeks of struggling to get work done with my kids at home—who kept telling me I was boring and asking why they weren’t in Europe or at sleep-away camp—and asking my husband daily, "Oh my god, have we raised monsters?" I finally, finally left the premises.

I took myself on a solo outing to a favorite shop, where I bought a deliciously scented candle. I deserved this candle. I felt like a monster myself, with my intense desire for said candle and every scent in the store. I inhaled all the fragrances—patchouli, rose otto, geranium, vanilla!—until they numbed the doomsday loop in my mind: Lou’s upcoming scans, the horrific state of the world, whether I’ll ever get any work done—all the things, made worse by the heat and the blazing sun.

This candle will save the day! I said to myself. This marks a new beginning! I will return home and be nice to my children. They’re just bored, after all. I will not fear Lou’s scans. I will not worry about money, my health, my career, the election, and all the things that are out of my control…

I returned to my car, only to find it wouldn’t start. Like, at all. I tried the key in the ignition again, but my Subaru let out a toot-toot, yeah beep-beep, then…nothing.

Moments like these, yes, we have a choice.

I thought of those Choose Your Own Adventure books I loved when I was my kids' age. "Turn to Page 9 if Sally should climb the mountain, or Page 34 if she should turn back and join the others."

What’s it going to be, Sally?

Are we going to freak out in the parking lot and let the hands of fear take us by the throat? Are we going to chastise ourselves for buying a candle (way to go!) when now we need to pay for a car repair? Or are we going to find our breath, inhaling the patchouli, the cocoa, the balsam fir?

My car felt hot. I sat for a few minutes in silence. I guess this is the space the Buddhists call the gap.

"I’m scared," I said. To no one. To the candle.

"I’m scared," I said again, to the steering wheel, to Sally at the foot of that god-awful mountain.

Then:

I turned to Page 27, where Sally is reminded she is not alone. That we fear the worst to protect ourselves from the times we were caught by surprise. That fear is normal; we just shouldn’t hold onto it so tightly. And that summers are hot, scans are scary, but as Pema Chödrön says:

You are the sky. Everything else—it’s just the weather.

Oh, let it be so.

With my spiritual teachers. Ha!

A MEDITATION

May I be the sky.

Sending you all love and deep breaths. Choose your own adventure.

Feel free to share a story or a time when you turned it all around. May we always find our breath, perspective, and remember to reach out to Sally, or Pema, or whoever we need so we don’t go it alone.

xx Alexa

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Pssst…upgrade to a paid subscription to join! Gift a friend a paid subscription and come one, come all. I am happy to offer these drop-in workshops as a thank you for supporting my work. We’ll meditate, write from prompts, share (or not), and just take a minute. If you need this offering and can’t swing a paid subscription right now, just email me alexa@alexawilding.com and I’ll comp you, no questions asked. I hope you can make it! Paid subscribers get early access to my other offerings, more coming soon. xx