The other night I dreamt I was driving a car whose brakes stopped working. I am at the steering wheel; my husband is in the passenger seat. I manage to maneuver through a fairly heavily trafficked area. I reach for the hand break to slow us down, but it pulls out-wires exposed and broken. I go on to drive brilliantly,slowing the car gradually with my clever manipulations, finally pulling safely into a back alley.
I am fascinated by how absolutely capable I felt in this dream. Nerve-wracking challenges - and I handled them beautifully. I find this refreshing. And not because I usually bumble through and fall apart before challenges. I consider myself capable. However, there's some fine print on that . Though I am willing to admit capability, there's no gusto behind it. No go-get-em-tiger behind the knowing that I am made of something (like everyone) that can work with anything and thrive.
The way I've currently got my psyche arranged is: I think I am capable, I even know it, but I am not living from that truth. I've got the net, but I'm refusing to jump.
I have a friend who was once on a road trip by herself and saw the most vivid rainbow. As she looked on, it appeared to be landing right on her car and she thought, "I am the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow".
How nice to think it, how great to know it, and how much better to trust and live boldly and securely from that truth.
From the Inside