Recently, a website I work for sent out a poem to our email list. The poem was by Amara Karuna and was titled 'What Would It Feel Like to Trust the Universe?' You can read the whole thing here. To give you a sense of the piece, here's how it ends:
What would it feel like
To lean in to the future grinning
Like leaning in to a strong wild wind
With arms spread wide
And hair whipping everywhere
Letting the forces that guide us
Have their way?
What would it feel like
To really trust the universe.
This is an excellent poem with a good message. But reading it, I found myself ready to argue. It would be nice to trust the universe, but doing so hasn't always worked out well for me. In fact, actively distrusting the universe has almost always worked out better.
Some people are supported by the fine structure of society. Maybe trusting the universe is an appropriate strategy for them. My universe includes horrendous chronic illness and trusting this universe generally produces negative outcomes. If I'm doing alright, it's in spite of this universe, not because of it.
I would love to "lean in to the future grinning like leaning in to a strong wild wind." This is strong imagery, and it reminds me of some great moments in my life. But my future doesn't feel this way at all. My future is not a strong wild wind coming in from elsewhere. It's a forest growing out of a clockwork of stupid human systems. That forest is filled with the terrible results of other people's actions. Trusting it is like trusting a pit of vipers.
Having said that, I do feel strongly like my individual life is unfolding how it should be, in ways that are often beautiful and surprising. There's magic in my relationships and in my creative process. I trust that this will continue and maybe get better with time.
And while I don't trust the universe, I do trust the unconscious. I'm in constant dialog with my own unconscious, and I trust the collective unconscious to coordinate our actions in ways that bring about a meaningful future. So I trust consciousness and not the universe. In other words, I trust the aliveness in reality over the model that we use to describe this reality.
To answer the poem, I have no idea what it might be like to trust the universe and have it be okay. Reading the piece makes me wonder if I'm missing out on something grand by distrusting my untrustworthy reality. Maybe the universe will earn my trust someday. I doubt that'll happen, but I'm open to it.
(Feature image from Pixabay.)
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