Day 176: The Pieces Were Finally Falling Into Place
Last night I finished a novel I was reading.
Near the end, there was a passage where a 30 year old man who had messed up his life in many ways for several years, was grappling with the second chance he'd been given to use his immense talent as a cook to become a chef.
It meant he had to find a sitter he trusted for his 4 month old son, whose mother had died shortly after giving birth.
This is the passage that hit me hard:
"After schmoozing with the sweet residents (senior center), watching a few perform the dances they'd learned, and letting Margaret do the honors of giving Atlas a bottle when he woke up, Jonah drove home with a smile.
Atlas slept under his blue knit cap, so Jonah put the windows down and let the salt air rush through the car.
In that moment, he felt something he hadn't felt in so long that he almost didn't recognize it.
Not just hope. Not just relief. The bone-deep, unshakable certainty that the pieces were finally falling into place.
Not perfectly—nothing in Jonah Lawson's life had ever been perfect—but solidly.
You've got this, Jonah."
When I read that, I knew it. I felt it.
I talk to women over 50 going through the same thing after life cracks them open.
I had never thought about how there are young people thrust into the same kind of life quake who also need a way through it.
It made me want to cry. I know it's fiction, but it hit so close to home.
I wonder if the author was speaking from experience of knowing this pain or knowing someone who experienced it and found their way through it.
It was described so well.
And then this morning Louise Hay's affirmation was:
I deserve the best. And I accept it now. All my needs and desires are met before I even ask.
That's something that could benefit us all to repeat to ourselves.
That affirmation and that passage from the novel felt connected to me.
For decades I've believed that the Universe wants us to be happy.
That it is always leading us toward our expansion.
And yet, when we're in the middle of a life quake, it rarely feels that way.
It feels uncertain.
Messy.
Like we're putting one foot in front of the other without knowing where the path leads.
Then one day, often quietly and without fanfare, something shifts.
Not necessarily in our circumstances. Inside us.
We stop feeling like we're barely surviving and begin feeling like we're actually living again.
Not because everything is perfect now.
Because somewhere deep inside, we begin trusting ourselves again.
That line from the book wasn't really about Jonah becoming a chef.
It was about the moment he finally believed his life wasn't falling apart anymore. It was coming together.
I think that's a moment many of us experience after we've been cracked open by life.
Not all at once, or in one dramatic revelation, but little by little.
Until one day, we look around and realize something we couldn't have imagined during our hardest season.
The pieces really are falling into place.
Maybe not perfectly, but solidly.
And that's what Louise Hay's affirmation is inviting us to accept.
We don't have to earn the best or struggle long enough before life begins supporting us.
We're worthy of receiving good things now.
Sometimes the hardest part isn't believing life can get better.
It's believing we deserve it to get better.
Today is a good day to practice accepting that possibility.
Today's Gentle Practice
Think about a season of your life that once felt impossible to get through.
Maybe it was the end of a relationship.
A health challenge.
The loss of someone you loved.
A financial struggle.
Or simply a season where you couldn't see what was coming next.
Now ask yourself:
When did I first realize I was going to be okay?
It probably wasn't the day everything changed.
It was probably a quiet moment.
A moment when you noticed yourself laughing again.
Making plans again.
Feeling hopeful again.
Those moments matter.
They remind us that healing doesn't always arrive all at once.
Sometimes it arrives so gently we only recognize it when we look back.
With you,
Lynn
