About a month ago, a friend of mine on Facebook shared a link to a great deal on an arguably frivolous item that she really wanted. To be honest, this particular thing is on my want-it list too. I understand the desire for something just-because. I sneakily ordered it and shipped it to her.
When I got a delivery confirmation I subtly suggested she check her mail, and there was nothing there. I confirmed her address only to realize that I’d shipped the damn thing to her old address and she had moved.
I emailed the vendor and admitted my mistake, hoping they’d let me re-order it at the sale price. No dice. I resolved to order it again for her the next time they put it on sale and just let the whole thing go. I hoped that the new tenant of her apartment would actually like it and figured maybe that person needed a boost from a new piece of pretty.
Imagine my surprise when I checked my email this week, weeks later, saying that the vendor had received my order back to their warehouse. Just confirm the address and we’ll send it right back out, or we’ll issue you a refund.
I updated the address and away it went to its rightful destination after all.
When I had given up on the thing I thought was over, it ended up coming back and working out.
This is not the first time this has happened recently, either.
Also about a month ago (I was apparently feeling exceptionally charitable in August!) I did a good deed to the tune of $75 and within hours had a new resume client asking for my $75 special for a resume and cover letter. It was almost like the universe said “Hey, good job, here’s something nice for you too.”
I’d chalk that up to cosmic coincidence except that it happened again this month too. Another $75 good deed, another $75 resume gig.
What you put into the universe comes back to you. Giving is receiving, if we let it happen.
Some more examples from my own life:
I had $200 in resume orders just this week. Last week, I sent my sister $200 to rent a car so she could attend our dad’s birthday party.
When my sister lived with me, she had loaned some money to a friend who later ghosted her and never paid her back. It was about $300. I advised her to just consider it a gift and tell the friend that it wasn’t worth straining or losing their friendship over the $300 loan. She let it go. Over the next weekend serving tables at her restaurant job, my sister brought home roughly $300 in tips – well over her average.
The best part of this is that I am always completely surprised when it happens. I’ve never gone into a good deed thinking “I wonder how this will come back around to benefit me!” But a while after any of this comes to fruition, I realize what has happened. It’s eerie and awesome.
Make Giving a Regular Part of Your Life
While an evangelical Christian Dave Ramsey baby-stepper would be tithing 10% of their income to the church, I prefer to designate roughly 10% of my income to just doing nice things for people.
Whether it’s donating to individuals fundraising on GoFundMe or social media, sending a friend some quick cash just to get themselves a treat, or putting in an order for somebody who ran out of cat litter two days to payday, knowing that I have that type of spending worked into my plan is a huge freedom and my favorite part of my monthly budget.
Even if you can’t give ten percent, I encourage everyone to plan a small kindness into their regular routine. It doesn’t have to cost a cent to put a smile on someone’s face. And that smile will come right back around!
5 thoughts on “On Trusting the Universe and Letting Go”
We have a number of down-and-out folks in our neighbourhood who ask for spare change, but in an increasingly cashless time, I often have nothing to give them. What I do have is my dog. When I give them the bad news that I have no cash, I offer to let them pet the dog. It’s not going to fill an empty belly, and maybe it doesn’t amount to much, but so far I’ve been able to put a smile on some faces and spread a bit of good feeling. And Frankie’s always up for scritches, judgement-free.
I would love doggy snuggles!
Such lovely story 🙂
…yes…a very good idea…minimalist kindnesses. The big one, like 50 euros…gets stuck…because of fear..in the pipeline..”Medecins sans Frontieres” …positively pushes *the little kindness* plan by suggesting a commitment to one euro a week, for sick kiddos… but just one euro, sans commitment…would be a kindness, anyway… for one little kid. Must think more about this….I adore *minimal* …I’m currently wallowing in the liberty it bestows..to be set free from everyone else’s sense of “got to get xyz..* …….I don’t want it, don’t need it…
Yeah …and the universe gave me a kind of splash of enlightenment..
One day a few years ago, I thought I was as sad and low as anyone could go. No friends, broke, hopeless, alone.
I thought there was no way that ‘I’ could be counted as anything but a worthless dustbin filler, but, still.. there would always be another day…. I got up very early and in semi darkness, went to the garden, and could see then, the broken little figure of my pet dove, on the floor of her cage. She was close to death, having been attacked by a rat, in the night.
She was especially defenceless, because she was born with a twisted leg and wing and she couldn’t fly.
I can’t express the chasm of grief that opened and enveloped me. There was no one to hear, And so I just screamed in rage, hate and pain, that there is not a speck of love of care or compassion in any corner of this vile filthy world. My heart was as broken into shards I felt as if I would die of sadness. I picked her up and held her very close so that I could feel her heart beating, and sat holding her, as the pale grey sun rose on frost…I kept her warm, she stopped trembling, she died in my hands. Death seemed to me then a blessing, I wanted to die, too ..what is there in such a cruel universe, to live for…?
. It was curious that at almost the same moment, I had a sense of a light? A sound? Something, I don’t know what, seemed to be claiming some small part of my attention. Maybe just an idea,, a memory, I don’t know, but I recognized, then, very suddenly, the colossal force of my *own* love, and for such a tiny scrawny creature. Crippled, not even a whole pigeon. A broken flightless little bird, was so dear, so precious, My own love for her, reflected back to me. It was not a sorrowful thing, but a force I could hold and redirect. She gave me that.
So …it was ok…I felt better after that… and I never forget her.
Thank you for sharing your story. It’s heartbreaking but I am glad you found a way to take peace from it.