Trust the Process

This is one of many answers to the seminal guestion: "How do you figure out what to do when you don't know what to do?
Trusting that I will have what I need is key to figuring out what to do. When I look back at my life, I feel that I usually ended up having what I needed, even if not always what I wanted. If I have had what I needed to get through past situations, I am likely to have it in the future. When I can trust the process, be open to possibilities and different ways of thinking, I know that what I need will flow out of me. In well functioning groups, it will flow out of the group.
Hugh Holly tells of an experience at Step Industries when they were celebrating Christmas during a break in their great work of helping recovering addicts become successful employees with enduring sobriety. They were running short of ham to serve the guests. The situation certainly had Hugh’s attention, and, just as he was thinking “I’d better do something about the ham”, someone walked in with a whole ham!
Is this luck? . . . coincidence? . . . synchronicity . . . miracle? . . . divine order?

Learning about our personal resources helps us trust the process. We have much greater mental, physical, and spiritual resources than we use on a regular basis. I learned about this in the course of many wilderness treks in the Grand Canyon and desert Southwest. Hiking with a heavy pack in treacherous terrain and desert conditions gave me many experiences of being physically exhausted and emotionally depleted, lacking energy to do anything. I learned I could reach down into myself and get resources I didn’t know I had. What I had thought was my limit turned out not to be my real limit. Many people seem to have had experiences like this, and remembering them is a great way to learn to trust the process.

I had a remarkable experience of trusting the process on a memorable trek in the Grand Canyon. We were hiking on the Hualapi reservation, using a map drawn on a place mat by a local man who knew the trails and likely sources of water. It is probably more accurate to say that he knew the routes, since trails are seldom marked on the reservation, and they navigate by landmarks that are embedded in the traditions of the Hualapi people. We were making a loop over a week’s time down a dry canyon, to the Colorado River, and back up another dry canyon. Water is a very big thing when you are moving through the desert. Following the descent, we found plenty of water near the Colorado River. On our way out of the canyon, after hiking several hours without finding water, concern arose about the possibility that we might run out. A spot of green high up on the canyon wall kindled hope that we would find water there, but the scouting party came back disappointed. In that terrain, side canyons divide and then divide again; it was not a certainty that we were in the canyon we had planned to be in. It was starting to get dark, and we didn’t know what to do. For some, it was a desperate situation. One person had his picture taken and wrote a letter to his infant daughter in Minnesota in case he didn’t see her again. Several people sat around discussing survival options. I said to Susan Doherty: “Let’s go find water”. Strong hikers, we set off with light packs up the canyon – on a mission. A couple miles up the darkening canyon we stop, mid-stride. What is that sound? It sounds like moving water. We round the bend, hoping this is not a mirage, and marvel at what we see – water rushing out of the canyon wall!
Is this luck? . . . coincidence? . . . synchronicity . . . miracle? . . . divine order?
Coming postings will furtheraddress this topic, along with other thoughts about ways to turn experiences into insight.