What do you do when the tide goes out, and it leaves you stranded in the sand, beached and static with nothing pushing you along? There comes a time when we must rely on our own steam, our own energy to get us to where we want to go. When the world seems to go against us, or more precisely when the world no longer does our work for us but tells us that it is time we did these things for ourselves, what then?

Maybe you have times when you feel stuck in life, when nothing new seems to be happening and you are just going through the motions of living, if you can call it that. Life seems grey and boring, and you may even be directing your frustrations inwards, focusing on the negative instead of the positive, on depression rather than happiness, on your faults and weakness instead of your skills and strengths. I know I have these times.

Yet, if we take a close look at things, are we really rudderless? Do we really have no power to choose our direction, or no idea of where we want to go? No. Often it is the case that we know what to do, it is just that we are afraid to do it. Maybe it’s end that relationship that has lost its spark, or leaving the job that grinds you down and leaves your spirit shattered and going off to find a job that is more fulfilling, or maybe it’s something as small as doing something you said you would do and know would do you good, like starting an exercise regime, or volunteering to help somewhere, or painting that first picture that you’ve been dreaming of but putting off claiming you had no talent. There are always changes you can make to make your life better, if only you can find the courage to make them.

There are times when you can’t see any possibilities ahead of you at all, and there are times when the possibilities seem so vast and endless that you become crippled with indecision, buckling under the weight of having to make a good choice out of all those choices. These are the times when the world seems to desert us. These are the times when the tide goes out and we are left beached. But we are not beached; we can move on land, we have our own power, and when we start using it the tide will come back in and take us with it out to sea.

How many times have you bumped your head on a branch you knew was there but somehow failed to avoid? Or stubbed your toe on something? Or got your clothing caught on a doorknob and had it yank you back when you tried to get away?

I live in the belief that the world is a metaphor, and that I attract the events of my life to me by my thoughts and actions. In that case, what are these things telling me? Firstly, and most obviously, Pay More Attention.

Yes, but what else? Is it a reflection of some subtle undermining thoughts I am having? Something self-destructive? Do I think I deserve these injuries on some level? Nothing too major, but just small, perhaps inconvenient pains. Perhaps on some level I wanted this injury, especially if it gives me an excuse not to do something I didn’t want to do.

Of course, you could go on forever, analysing every little thing that happens to you, searching for a meaning for it all. If something is obvious, that’s great. If not, perhaps the answer will come in time, or not. The most prudent question to ask about anything (and you don’t have to believe in any higher purpose at all) is this: “What can I learn from this?”

Many things can be gained from asking such a question about such small injuries. Perhaps you could stand to flow with life better. If your toe hurts to put weight on it, and you usually play football at the weekend, you can use it to do something different, to expand your horizons and do something else. Or to watch from the sidelines and experience a different kind of football experience. Perhaps you can learn patience, letting your body heal at its own pace, and if there are things you want to do that you now cannot because of the pain, be content with that, and use it as an opportunity to grow patient. Perhaps you could use the pain to teach you about the nature of pain, and how to effectively deal with pain while at the same respecting what the pain is telling you. Perhaps you could use it as an opportunity to bring love to your body instead of hating it for being injured.

I’ll leave you with a quote from a book by Dan Millman, called Way Of The Peaceful Warrior:

A warrior doesn’t seek pain, but if it comes, he uses it.

My hopes for you then, if pain comes, be it minor or major, are that you use it to grow stronger, wiser, happier and more loving.