Trust the Process

“Trust the process” is what I woke up thinking the day I lost my keys before going to work as a lady of lunch at the local public middle school wondering if I would have the nerve to submit my resignation. While waiting for the key fairy, with all three of my middle schoolers in the car, Joey-Pup, our 9-year-old Border Collie, who is not allowed on the sofa, was standing on it, inquisitively gazing at us in our stationary car with her head so cutely cocked sideways. All four of us split a gut laughing and stared at Joey, while Joey sat on the forbidden furniture staring at us. She finally gave up and dropped out of view, curling up on the couch just prior to our rescue. Trust the process. It was the most fun lost set of keys ever. We even made it to school just in time. Sure beats me being frantic and worried.

Two weeks prior, I had run out of gas on our morning trek to the middle school. Miraculously, our car stopped beside some beautiful rushes that I had always wanted to photograph. I got out of the car, much to the dismay of my three mortified middle school passengers, along a busy highway and took the long anticipated picture, while waiting to be shuttled to school. Trust the process. The kids and I got a chuckle out of the experience, especially because most morning commute topics center around miracle sharing and the miracle of an empty gas tank was a scenic picture of my dreams.
We even made it to school just in time. Sure beats me beating myself up for not looking at my dashboard gauges.

I’ve been studying my dreams and developing my intuition. These two incidences hit me over the head with the message that I am not supposed to be a lunch lady anymore. I might have backed out on giving my notice had I not misplaced my keys. While I had fun yucking it up with my kids about the dog, deep in my soul I knew my mission for the day was to let the powers-that-be know that I would hang up my hairnet at winter break.

It’s been four good years. I LOVE the kids. I often say that I am like a bartender or hairstylist listening to concerns over tests, boyfriend/girlfriend troubles, and happy events too. I started being a lunch lady when my youngest went into kinder, so that I would share the same hours and days off with my children. Two years ago, I became a Nutritional Therapy Practitioner and Certified GAPS Practitioner. Becoming a certified health nut conflicted my heart with the knowledge that school lunches contain almost no quality fats necessary for healthy brain and cell function. I struggled with my internal conflict, yet, I continued to don my hairnet telling myself that when my healing practice blossomed, I would leave. The catch is that it’s hard to grow a practice with part-time energy. Trust the process. I mustered up the courage and submitted my resignation thanks to the push of my lost keys and an empty gas tank. One of my nighttime dreams prior to the key incident, was me as a dog on a leash frustrated, trying so hard to get somewhere, while wrapping my leash around and around a tree trunk. The miracle of the lost keys is that I now feel like a dog unleashed and untangled as I get up and live my soul’s dream, trusting the process.