How Is This Happening?

Running the business of your life is hard

Photo by Anubhav Saxena on Unsplash

Running the business of your life is hard.

A lot of people talk about reinventing yourself, starting over, or building something meaningful. Very few talk honestly about what it asks of you internally.

When you look at successful people, you usually only see the outcome. You don’t see the days where nothing works, nobody responds, and you start quietly asking yourself what the hell you’re doing.

When I was let go from my W2 job, I didn’t feel inspired. I felt cornered.

I had no choice but to try to build something of my own.

I’m grateful I did, but there are still days where fear takes over. Yesterday was one of those days.

Nothing was lining up. The tools I use weren’t working. I was having problems with my website. Calls and emails were going unanswered. At one point, I got up from my desk and walked around the neighborhood just to clear my head.

When I got back, I saw a message on LinkedIn.

“We’re currently looking for help. Let’s chat.”

A meeting was booked.

By the end of the night, two more meetings were scheduled.

My partner looked at me and said, “Every time you feel this way, something good happens.”

Lately, that’s felt strangely true.

Then she said, “I think you’re surrounded by love and protection.”

And honestly, I think that’s true too.

Because it isn’t just business.

---

If this resonated with you, please consider supporting my writing with a coffee!

---

Before I moved in with my partner, I was living alone in an apartment. One night, while I happened to be staying at her place, the ceiling in my bedroom collapsed because of a leak in the roof.

Then there was the time my Buick died on the highway on my way to work. It got towed to my mechanic, and somehow he fixed it for free.

When I told my ex-wife I thought we should separate, I had no idea what would happen next. But over time, things started aligning in ways I never could’ve planned.

When I lost my job, I somehow ended up building a business.

Again and again, life has unfolded in ways that make me feel like I’m being carried through something I don’t fully understand.

Part of it is faith.

Part of it is effort.

And part of it is patient acceptance.

Faith in my teacher, Geshe-la. Faith in my yidam. Faith in the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. Faith in the practice itself.

Not in a dramatic way. Not perfectly.

Just enough to keep returning to it.

Enough to create small moments of clarity in the middle of confusion.

Then there’s effort.

Showing up when I want to disappear. Continuing when things feel uncertain. Taking small steps when I’d rather escape into the desert somewhere and leave all of it behind.

And not just in work.

In friendships. In family. In trying to stay present with myself.

But patient acceptance may be the deepest part of all this.

Over the past two years, I’ve had to let go of roles, titles, expectations, and the illusion that I can control where life goes next.

There’s been grief in that.

But there’s also been freedom.

So when I ask myself, “How is this happening?” the only real answer I can find is this:

Through faith.

Through effort.

Through patient acceptance.

And maybe through being held by something larger than I can fully explain.

---