I accepted a volunteer position for the Sonoma County writing group that I belong to. It currently has 259 members, and since I kept track of close to 2000 members while international secretary for a spiritual group for twelve years, I had the mistaken idea that this would be easy.

Instead, I have tight sensations in the belly, and thoughts arise that I’m not up to this. When I look carefully, of course the thoughts are just a story. The truth is that the software and systems for keeping track are completely different than I’m used to, and the training I received felt like an incision was made in the top of my head and information was poured in for three hours without a break. Then I was left with two or three banker boxes, a slew of three inch binders, and over 7,000 computer files. If feelings have any importance–and they do not, other than to notice and welcome them–I feel lost and incompetent.

I get to go to the board meeting tomorrow and it will be very clear that I’m stumbling in the dark. As little as five years ago, this would have been horrifying for me. Instead, I sit back and chuckle, knowing that awareness is completely untouched, and over time, I will grasp the methods here. I have figured out a few tasks–how to enter on the website system, view and respond to membership emails, and I have read and sorted the 140 emails that were waiting for me. Beyond that, the board will simply have to be patient.

If not? They can have their job back… but I suspect I won’t get out of this task quite that easily. It’s too clear an opportunity to meet and welcome this quiet sense of desperation and allow it to wash out of the body.

© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2013
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