A Year Of Abandoning Hope

If last year had a theme, it would have been Abandon Hope. Last spring we sold our Minnesota house, packed up our boys, and moved to Colorado. We say we moved for family reasons but it was really the hands of Chi gently guiding us and telling us that it was time for change. I have learned to listen to those hands over the years even if I do not know all the whys. When we moved to Minnesota without knowing anyone, we quickly developed a loving network of friends that felt like family. I started practicing T’ai Chi Chih soon afterward and became a part of an embracing TCC community. Looking back, it felt like a nurturing womb. But even the most nurturing of wombs cannot hold onto the child forever. Growth and change are the nature of life.

The first year in Colorado has been a year of labor pains. We lived in my sister’s basement for three months. I abandoned hope in the comfort and security of my own home and space. I was called to release attachment to an outer home and sink deeper into my inner home. My husband soon found out it would take eight months to find a job. I abandoned hope in feeling secure financially. I was called to release the need to know how and when it would all work out. I was called to deepen my trust in a universe that loves and supports us.

Internally, the ground as I knew it is gone. I feel lost, not really knowing exactly who I am anymore. I am abandoning hope in things I have long identified with because they all seem empty and flat now. I am being called to release into the raw present moment, to simply notice and be with what arises. Compassion and acceptance is the ground that nurtures me now. My labor is not yet over but I know the light of birth will come.

Chi calls for growth. It is the nature of life. My daily TCC practice has taught me to be open to this growth, to trust in the process and be willing to abandon hope in the old and release into the new. I am grateful.

Released, It Arrived

By Tina Wells, Oxford, UK

I had to abandon the hope of ever giving birth. We’d had four unsuccessful •invetro fertilization attempts, and my ability to survive the disappointment was based on detaching myself from the emotional longing for a child. I tried to view the medical intervention as a technical procedure. But it was not quite so easy to let go of hoping that I would be a mum some day. Gradually, I understood that the doctors could only assist to a certain point. After that it depended on the life force in the embryos to determine whether a baby would develop. I was surprised that the medical staff encouraged me to hope during those attempts. I intuitively knew that attachment to a desired outcome could only bring sadness if the outcome wasn’t what I’d hoped.

During our fifth attempt, I talked to a clinical psychologist to ask how people let go of the desire to have a family and leave IVF attempts behind. She explained that maybe we needed to grieve for the lost embryos. (In my detachment I had buried my emotion in order to lessen the blow of failed attempts.) Then we had to let go of trying any longer. We agreed that if this final attempt didn’t work, we would go to the Lake District and plant a tree in memory of the idea of becoming parents.

Unbeknownst to us at the time, our son’s life was taking hold. We still think about planting a tree in gratitude to Jamie for being a strong enough life force to come into this world regardless of whether we hoped for him or not. My T’ai Chi Chih practice is deepening my belief that true peace is achieved when we decide to no longer cling to desires and illusions of total happiness. Learning to go with the flow and accept the twists and turns in life is making my ride smoother.