As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I am currently reading Byron Katie’s Loving What Is: Four questions that can change your life. Katie has created a process for questioning our thoughts and beliefs that she calls The Work. I am not going to attempt to describe The Work or the questions that are part of “The Inquiry.” She details the entire process on her website, thework.com.

But I have to share this quote:

I can find only three kinds of business in the universe: mine, yours, and God’s. (For me, the word God means “reality.” Reality is God, because it rules. Anything that’s out of my control, your control, and everyone else’s control–I call that God’s business.)

Much of our stress comes from mentally living out of our own business. When I think, “You need to get a job, I want you to be happy, you should be on time, you need to take better care of yourself,” I am in your business. When I’m worried about earthquakes, floods, war, or when I will die, I am in God’s business.

Byron Katie, Loving What Is, pg. 3.

I felt an inner sea change as I read this quote. Currents traveling north to the Arctic suddenly reversed south for the equator.

This is what I do! I live in your business all the time, thinking about what you should be doing in order to be a happy person, and I am in God’s business constantly.

Take the pandemic. I am constantly thinking, This should not be happening, my life should be easier, my kids should be at school, I should have some certainty about the 2020-2021 school year. All those thoughts increase my stress. And yet: the pandemic is happening; we are sheltering at home; school has been cancelled. My thoughts are trying to deny reality! Every time I resist God’s business, I might as well be banging my head against a wall.

I read the passage quoted above yesterday morning and spent the rest of the day feeling light and free. Whenever I caught myself thinking about someone else’s business or the pandemic, I thought, Oh! That’s not my business. And then I felt an immediate relief.

This morning, a fellow mom texted about some drama at our kids’ elementary school that might affect who will be teaching our kids’ next year. Their first grade teacher is going to be their second grade teacher next year, which is exciting after all the chaos of the pandemic. But another first grade teacher decided, after all the teaching assignments were made, to retire after all (probably prompted by the pandemic) so now our teacher might have to stay with the first grade after all. I saw the text relaying this information and thought, I could get upset about this… but it is not my business. It’s the principal’s business, and to some extent, it’s God’s business. But do I get to decide how the principal is going to handle the sudden staffing change? Nope. It’s not my business.

It felt so good to learn about the drama and not get sucked into the blackhole of panic! stress! and despair! I nearly giggled with relief.

Then I wondered, am I being indifferent and passive about my daughter’s education?

Nope!

Nathan and I had already decided, months ago, that Pippa would continue at her current elementary school for another year. We made that decision before we knew who her second grade teacher would be and before we knew a first grade teacher would retire. That’s not something we have any control over. Teachers move, get pregnant, retire and even die. I can do my best to make sure my daughter is getting the best education for her needs, but I can’t control who any of her specific teachers will be. Nathan and I might decide at some point in the future that she needs to go to a different elementary school, but stressing about the retirement of a first grade teacher just adds unnecessary suffering to my life. I can be calm and interested in my daughter’s education at the same time.

I feel a bit like I did in fourth grade when I got my first pair of glasses. As the optometrist checked that the glasses fit right, he said, “You are going to be astonished when you step outside and see the leaves on the trees.”

I thought, No way, people can’t actually see leaves on trees!

Then I stepped outside and nearly tripped over my feet when I realized I could see thousands and thousands of individual leaves that had for years been a blur of green.

For years and years (probably most of my adult life), I thought I had to stress about everything: my business, your business, and God’s business. It was exhausting. Now I see that I just need to live in my business. I don’t have to worry about your business or God’s business.

Glasses helped me see thousands of leaves with sudden clarity. And a few sentences in Loving What Is helped me see the difference between my business, your business, and God’s business.

Life really is magical.