faith

We opened the new location today.

I just can't believe how well everything turned out. From running into a student at the Fedex who was dying to lend me her truck (which I really needed right then), to the crew of people who showed up to help yesterday (always just enough people, more would have gotten awkward), to the way the furniture from the old space fit right in like it was made for the new location. It makes me think it was made for the new location. Time, after all, is not what we think it is.

But that's off topic. I took the 11 am class this morning, and it was packed. Alexandra, who teaches that class, was not expecting me to be there, but she talked about the faith required to open the studio, about the faith required for all transformation.

I got all teary because I didn't know before that moment that I had faith. I knew the studio would open on the date that was set. I always knew that. A couple of times yesterday people gave me odd looks when I told them that, yes, we were opening tomorrow. There was a lot of work to do, but I never doubted that it would get done. And then people showed up. Lots of them. They painted the baseboards, framed the signs, scraped the paint off the kitchen floor. Some of them risked tetanus and bodily harm by doing real construction demo and rebuilding. All of them worked really hard and selflessly to make it happen.

I do have faith. I don't have to worry. I know that I am on the right track with square one. I know because everything that I need always comes to me just when I need it.

The rest of my life isn't usually like that, of course. And sometimes square one doesn't feel like that either. What would it be like to understand that everything is always being taken care of? Always. That, I'm learning, is faith.

I want everyone to take the plunge. Quit your job. Do what you love. Dive. You can worry, and you will worry, but do it anyway. You never know. It might just work. In fact, it will always work. The only danger is that you'll have to change your perspective on what it means to be working.