In the movie The Sound of Music, Maria says “When the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window.” It’s the moment when Captain Von Trapp says he is not marrying the Baroness because he is in love with Maria.
While I understand what she is trying to say, I don’t think there is an exact if-then/that-this effect. If I end this relationship, I get a new one? If I total this car, I get a Mercedes? Somehow, I don’t think the Universe works that way.
I do think there is a cause and effect, but it has more to do with your intentions. We don’t step into a new relationship simply because we ended another one. But we do open up the possibility for movement and change.
Shutting a door, like ending a relationship, is just you saying “I’m ready for change. I’m open to what’s next. Bring it on, baby!”
And it’s that intention—that willingness to shake things up a little—that is the driving force for what comes next.
The tricky part is the first step, though, right? Closing that door?
It’s where I was last week, when the Universe presented a bit of a puzzle to me. As you may recall, I had asked her for something and she gave it to me. But there were strings attached. I manifested something I needed, but the consequence of accepting it meant compromising things I believe.
Turns out the hard part was not the compromising itself, or the challenge to my beliefs. The hard part was saying—out loud—No thank you. I don’t want to do that. That’s just not who I am.
And the strings were a tangle of needing to please everyone, and being a “good person,” and play-acting who I think I’m supposed to be in the world.
But that’s just not who I am…anymore.
(Did you hear the door shut?)
It took a while for me to get there. “I have to sit with this for a few days,” I told the person extending the offer I had manifested.
The truth is, I didn’t have to sit with anything. Or think about much at all. I knew my decision half-way through the initial conversation. I just needed time to get up the courage to say it out loud.
“I’m sorry,” I said in a very professional tone. “This is not a good fit for me.”
Now, here’s the cause and effect.
As is usually the case with the Universe, there have been several parallel experiences the past few weeks. Opportunities to learn that same lesson—in the friendship that has run its course, in the relationship that needs to change, in the offer with strings.
But, suddenly the “I’m sorry, this is not a good fit for me” comes easier and easier.
Snip! Snip! Snip!
I’m practicing and cutting strings everywhere I can find them, because you know what? That’s just not who I am anymore.
(Can you feel the breeze coming through that window?)
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Scissors papercut art (and patient, loving sounding board) courtesy of Martha Link Walsh.