I made an appointment yesterday to get some fluids this morning, and let me tell you—the fluids did not happen.
The first girl couldn’t get the needle where it needed to go. Eek. So we got a heating pad for my veins and tried to warm things up a little. Then another girl came in. She missed too. Then she tried the other arm.
Missed again.
And at that point I was like, I’m out of here.
I got up, got in my car, and left.
But something really cool happened while I was sitting in that chair getting unsuccessfully poked.
My mom texted me that she was having lunch with some friends, including Miss Vaughan. Her daughter, Katie Vaughan, was a childhood friend of mine. We used to spend summers at Edisto together, and she eventually went to Bishop England, where I also went for a little while.
But Katie’s life took a very different path. She got a calling to become a nun.
And she listened.
She left the life she knew, entered religious life, and committed herself to that calling in a way that meant surrendering so much of the ordinary world—including, for long stretches, regular contact with her family.
Here’s the wild part: I had just thought about Katie.
Last weekend, driving home from church, completely out of nowhere, I had this enormous rush of admiration for her. I had not thought about her in forever, and suddenly there she was in my mind.
I was thinking about the strength it must take to first hear a calling, then admit you’ve heard it, then actually follow it.
Because hearing the call is one thing. Surrendering to it is another.
And that is where I am right now.
I feel like I am dissolving.
Not disappearing. Becoming.
I’m in that strange in-between place where the caterpillar is no longer really a caterpillar, but the butterfly hasn’t quite stretched its wings yet.
I know I am being called toward service. I know I am here to be a light and to spread love in whatever way, shape, or form that takes.
I may never know exactly how it happens. I may never see the person who needed something I wrote. I may never know who needed a smile I gave them.
I may never know what conversation mattered, what kindness landed, what little moment traveled farther than I could ever see.
And apparently I have to be okay with that.
A performance review from the universe
Which is very spiritual and beautiful and everything…
BUT CAN I GET A LITTLE PROOF, PLEASE? 😂
Can somebody tell me I’m doing a freaking great job here on Earth?
Give me some recognition! Give me some money! Give me some love! Give me some respect!
Give me a performance review from the universe!
BROOKS: EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS.
Because I am still a human being. And as much as I believe in doing good without needing anything in return, there is still a little human part of me that wants somebody outside of me to say:
Good job, Brooks. Job well done.
And maybe part of surrender is learning that I don’t always get that. Maybe the call isn’t about seeing the results. Maybe it’s about answering.
So right now, I’m trying to stop asking exactly what my calling is supposed to look like.
I’m holding space. I’m doing me. I’m trying to uplift people.
I’m trying to reach as many people as I can and remind them that they are loved. Daily. Constantly. Completely.
I love you. Love loves you. We love each other.
And somehow, some way, love finds the way through.
That doesn’t mean I’m on my A-game every day.
Absolutely not.
I have off days. I have days when I’m tired. Irritated. Distracted. Human.
And those days do not mean I have disappointed God, the universe, my angels, my higher power—or myself.
I don’t believe spirit is sitting somewhere with a clipboard going:
Well, Brooks really blew Tuesday.
No.
I believe spirit is cheering us on. Always guiding us toward our best and highest good.
And maybe my job isn’t to become some perfectly enlightened human being floating three inches above the ground.
Maybe my job is to be a beautiful, imperfect human being who showed up for the Earth party.
That’s it.
We’ve got spirit
Cut out the barking dogs. Cut out the extra nonsense. Cut the fluff.
We don’t need Karen and Terry running around in our heads. We don’t need the Lazy Susan spinning us around in circles.
We need spirit.
Spirit is what keeps us connected. Spirit is what keeps us smiling. Spirit is what helps us take the next step.
Spirit is what excites us—and somehow, inside that excitement, also grounds us.
Spirit gets us where we need to go.
And suddenly I realized something hilarious. The first cheer I ever learned might actually be one of the most spiritually accurate things I’ve ever said:
We’ve got spirit, yes we do!
We’ve got spirit, how about you?
THAT’S IT. 😂
That’s the whole thing!
I’ve got spirit. I’ve got God. I’ve got my higher power.
And we’re working together symbiotically through this bizarre, enormous, gorgeous Earth party.
Then I yell, We’ve got spirit! How about you?
And you yell it back. And somebody else yells it back.
And suddenly we’re passing spirit around. We’re passing joy around. We’re passing love around.
Maybe that’s the calling. Maybe it doesn’t need to be more complicated than that.
One little kink
And I do feel myself getting closer to surrender.
There’s still one little kink.
I know what it is. I’m pretty sure I know what it is.
Okay. I definitely know what it is. 😂
I’m just not quite willing to completely give that one up yet.
But I’m not calling it a defect. It’s a kink.
A kink!
And maybe it will pop up every once in a while throughout my life. I’m okay with that.
It just doesn’t need to be an everyday kink.
So I’m working on it. I’m loosening my grip. I’m listening. I’m answering.
I’m trusting that I don’t have to know exactly where this thing is going to know that I’m going.
Because maybe surrender isn’t knowing the plan. Maybe surrender is hearing the call and taking the next step anyway.
Katie’s path reminded me of that.
Her calling looks like hers. Mine will look like mine. Yours will look like yours.
We don’t have to compare them. We just have to listen.
We’ve got spirit. Yes, we do.
And I’m surrendering to mine.
Surrender to the spirit, baby.
