When I'm in my occasional low mood thinking about my delivery of the 2-hour Innate Wellbeing workshops at the homeless shelter, I can easily get discouraged.
Having been witness to the magical work of the world's most highly skilled
practitioners in this field, watching them spend days or weeks or even months gracefully teasing insights out of their attentive and adoring learners, I reflect on the seeming futility of my chosen task. And so my creative capacity for insecure thinking happily
throws me onto the sinking ship of HMS Hopeless Comparison. 
So what the heck do I think I'm doing?
After
all, I'm not just training the process to handle a customer objection, or the subtleties of using a high gain question. I'm asking my participants to see past the complete illusion of their entire lifetime of thinking, into the limitless well of love, resilience,
wisdom, and wellbeing that has always existed within, despite their very real experience of a lifetime of suffering.
So what the heck do I think I'm doing?
After all, I'm trying to make the invisible visible, not just
for those who are denied the very basics of human existence (food, clothing, and shelter), but for those who are likely also suffering with some level of chronic psychological condition?
So what the heck do I think I'm doing?
After all, I'm not yet feeling even close to the easy-going delivery that comes from a confidence in the work and the results. And the fog has not yet cleared for finding my way to that "quiet space of certain connection". I know what that space feels like
within the surreal realm of complete unconditional love, but how that translates to a more practical accessible state of grace from which to work, has yet eluded me.
So what the heck do I think I am doing?
I really,
honestly, don't know.
At the moment, despite this occasional wave of insecurity, this choice to work at the shelter just seems to be the most sensible and easy thing for me to do. Part of the ease could be from the mysterious "path of
least resistance" that started with the circumstances of my initial awakening into our common humanity. Part of it could be the lack of risk in achieving the impossible, and therefore the safety of a justifiable failure. And yet truthfully and knowingly, all
of it is just whatever happens to pop up in the flotsam and jetsam of my continually changing flow of thought.
I'm not particularly fond of the sinking ship, or the fog, or the waves, or some of the flotsam and jetsam, but I do always
see them (whether good or bad) for the illusions they are, even when I don't.
Let's hope for clearer sailing ahead.