I Released the World From Making Me Happy

What if nobody else is responsible for your happiness? 

Practical Wisdom: Living 5D in a 3D World

Integrating higher consciousness into everyday life—one miracle at a time!

Beloved,

For most of my life, I didn't realize how many people I had employed in the full-time job of making me happy.

My children had a job.

My husband had a job.

My friends had a job.

My family had a job.

Hell, complete strangers had a job.

And apparently, none of them had read the employee handbook. 😂

They were supposed to behave in ways that made me feel loved.

They were supposed to include me, appreciate me, understand me, agree with me, treat me fairly, make good choices, and—perhaps most importantly—not do anything that activated my shit.

And when they failed?

I had grievances.

I didn't understand it at the time, but every grievance was essentially saying:

If you were different, I would be okay.

A Course in Miracles calls this the ego's plan for salvation.

And once I really understood what that meant, I couldn't unsee it.

I Had Outsourced My Salvation

Lesson 71 says:

Only God's plan for salvation will work.

The ego has another plan.

Its plan says salvation is somewhere out there.

I'll be happy when my relationship gets better.

I'll be peaceful when my child gets his life together.

I'll feel safe when I have enough money.

I'll relax when the political situation changes.

I'll feel loved when someone finally loves me the way I deserve to be loved.

I'll be okay when you stop doing that thing I have decided you shouldn't be doing.

Different person.

Different job.

Different bank balance.

Different president.

Different body.

Different circumstances.

Then I'll be okay.

But buried underneath every one of those statements is the same declaration:

Something outside of me is responsible for something inside of me.

And that is one hell of a way to give away my power.

My Greatest Teachers Were People I Wanted to Change

Two of my greatest teachers arrived in my life at almost exactly the same time.

I married Ken in 2010.

Around that same time, my son Spencer began struggling with drugs.

Talk about an advanced classroom.

I loved them both deeply.

And because I loved them, my ego had plenty of ideas about what they needed to do differently.

Spencer needed to stop using drugs.

Ken needed to stop fearing I would cheat on him.

Surely those were reasonable requests.

Surely I could be happier if the people I loved weren't suffering—or weren't causing my suffering.

Except there was one tiny problem.

I was studying A Course in Miracles.

And the damn Course wouldn't let me keep making them responsible for my peace.

I began practicing with Spencer first.

Instead of judging his addiction, his choices, his behavior, I started asking:

Can I love him exactly where he is?

Not love the addiction.

Not pretend his choices didn't have consequences.

Not become a doormat.

Simply stop demanding that he become someone different before I allowed myself to be Love.

And something began to change.

Not necessarily in Spencer.

In me.

I felt freer.

More peaceful.

More loving.

Less afraid.

And eventually I had an uncomfortable realization:

If this works with Spencer, it has to work with Ken too.

😂

My ego had an argument ready.

Spencer is your son. Of course you can love him unconditionally.

But look at what Ken is doing.

Look at how he's treating you.

Surely this situation is different.

Nope.

Same ego.

Mine.

Same grievance.

Same attempt to place my salvation outside myself.

So eventually I had to tell that voice:

Shut the fuck up. I'm not doing this anymore.

Taking Them Off the Hook

Something extraordinary happened when I stopped requiring these two men to change.

I took them off the hook.

And in doing so, I took my power back.

I could love Spencer without requiring him to live the life I wanted him to live.

I could love Ken without requiring our marriage to become what I wanted it to become.

And eventually, when it became clear that our paths were separating, I could say:

I love you.

And I release you.

Go live your life.

I'll be okay.

That last sentence changed everything.

I'll be okay.

Not because you'll finally understand me.

Not because you'll apologize.

Not because you'll change.

Not because the relationship will survive.

Not because everything will turn out the way I hoped.

I'll be okay because my okayness was never yours to give me.

That was mine.

Then I Started Firing Everybody

After I experienced this in two of the biggest relationships of my life, I started seeing the pattern everywhere.

I could do it with my sister.

I could do it with a friend.

I could do it with a neighbor.

I could do it with someone who didn't like me.

Eventually, I could do it with strangers.

Little by little, the circle expanded until one day I realized:

I had released the whole world from having to make me happy.

Holy Cannoli!

Do you know how exhausting it is to have eight billion people responsible for your happiness?

Especially when most of them don't even know they've been hired.

No wonder we are miserable.

We're constantly conducting performance reviews.

You're doing it wrong.

You shouldn't have said that.

You should believe what I believe.

You should vote the way I vote.

You should understand me.

You shouldn't look at me that way.

You should include me.

You should appreciate me.

You should apologize.

You should change.

And underneath all of it:

Then I can be okay.

That is bondage disguised as righteousness.

Freedom Doesn't Mean I Don't Have Preferences

This doesn't mean I suddenly stopped having preferences.

Of course I have preferences.

I prefer kindness over cruelty.

Peace over conflict.

Health over illness.

Connection over separation.

Cooperation over competition.

Transparency over secrets.

Fun over seriousness.

Financial ease over financial struggle.

And there are certainly behaviors I don't choose to participate in.

But freedom means I no longer make the fulfillment of my preferences the price of my peace.

That's different.

I can say no without hatred.

I can leave without condemnation.

I can disagree without needing to destroy you.

I can establish a boundary without building a moat around my heart.

I can allow a relationship to end without deciding somebody has to be the villain.

I can let you have your journey without making your journey about me.

That's love.

Love doesn't require agreement.

Love doesn't require proximity.

Love doesn't even require a continuing relationship.

Love sets everything free.

Control Is Just Fear Wearing a Clipboard

This is where the ego gets really sneaky.

Control often looks responsible.

Helpful.

Protective.

Even loving.

I'm only trying to help.

I just want what's best for you.

I'm worried about you.

Someone needs to do something.

Sometimes action absolutely is appropriate.

But I've learned to ask a different question:

What am I afraid will happen if I stop trying to control this?

There it is.

Because anything I need to control, I don't trust.

If I need you to behave differently so I can be peaceful, I don't trust my peace.

If I need circumstances to unfold according to my plan so I can feel safe, I don't trust my safety.

If I need the world to look the way I think it should before I can experience God, I've forgotten where God is.

And that's when I know I've handed the clipboard back to the ego.

The Most Liberating Question I Know

These days, when I feel myself contract around someone or something, I can usually find some version of this underneath it:

This needs to be different for me to be okay.

And that's my invitation.

Not to change them.

To look at me.

What am I believing?

What am I afraid of?

Where have I assigned responsibility for my peace?

Where am I demanding salvation from a person, circumstance, institution, bank account, relationship, body, government—or future?

And then I can return to the questions Lesson 71 gives us:

What would You have me do?
Where would You have me go?
What would You have me say, and to whom?

Those questions require humility.

Because the ego already knows what everybody should be doing.

😂

God asks me to become quiet enough to listen.

Nobody Is Coming to Save Me

That sentence used to sound harsh.

Today, it feels like freedom.

Nobody is coming to save me.

Because nobody needs to.

I am not waiting for someone else to hand me the peace God already placed within me.

I am not waiting for another human being to give me permission to be what God created me to be.

Whole.

Perfect.

Complete.

Love.

And neither should you.

So maybe today we can fire a few people from jobs they never applied for.

Release your partner from having to make you happy.

Release your children from having to make choices you understand.

Release your parents from having to become the parents you wish they'd been.

Release your friends from having to validate you.

Release strangers from having to agree with you.

Release the world from having to behave according to your plan.

And then notice what remains when nobody else is responsible for your peace.

You.

And maybe that's what salvation has been pointing to all along.

Not a world finally arranged exactly the way I want it.

But a mind that no longer requires the world to change before it remembers:

I am already as God created me.

And from here?

Everybody gets to be free.

Including me.

Shift. Lift. Laugh. Repeat. 🔥❤️✨

Founder, The Awareness Academy 

"Only God's plan for salvation will work” – ACIM Lesson 71