It appears as though a great many of my most profound spiritual lessons come by way of parking spots, or the lack thereof, as the case may be. This is slightly embarrassing considering that I am a person others come to for spiritual guidance. I feel like my lessons should come through in much more elegant ways, but when there is a lesson that I seem to be having difficulty grasping in my daily life, I am generally presented with some sort of parking “situation.”

The parking garage at my gym is one of those parking structures that have fewer spaces than cars that need to park. Also, everyone in Los Angeles seems to drive an SUV and all of the spots are for “compact cars only.”

I have a very deep need to park as closely to the entrance of my gym as is physically possible. I will workout for two hours, but I refuse to walk any further than I have to in the parking garage. I understand that this is unsound logic, but just let that one be.

I know from decades of studying the Vedic principles of spiritual truths (too complicated to explain, but you can look it up here) that if I expect one of those spots to be open, it will be. And so, it usually is.

Unless of course I am having a particularly ornery or grumpy kind of morning and then there are no spots anywhere. Well, except for that one in that area of the garage where I hate to park. In that moment, I’m convinced this is because the “universe” is not a benevolent place.

So I circle that garage like a determined vulture telling myself:

Fuck the universe. I don’t need a handout from the universe. I’m going to will this shit to happen.

And then a spot fairly-close-but-not-quite-right to the entrance opens up.

This happened yesterday.

I was on a tear, having not slept after breaking it off with a new magical love that was so perfect for me in so many ways, except for one (but that’s another story). I was feeling hopeless and broken and all of the things that those of us who know about manifesting and positivity never feel, right? WRONG.

I know enough about this to know that when a feeling hits you, no matter what it is, you had better just let that shit roll right through you without judgment. So, there I was letting it rip right through me. Though I was perhaps a bit less successful with the not judging part. This left me completely “out of the vortex.”

So, I circled the garage.  And I willed my usual parking space to open up.  And like clockwork, right on time, one of the fairly-close-but-not-quite-right spots appeared.

One of this parking spot’s shortcomings was that it was about half of its allotted size on account of the two SUVs that were spilling out of their designated spaces right into MY (fairly right) spot. “Here we go again” and “fuck you life” ran through my mind simultaneously. But like a determined soldier (or vulture), I persevered. I can do this. I can get into this spot.

I took a deep breath and positioned myself in the best possible way to get into that spot.

First try: unsuccessful. No problem… I backed out (cars now lining up behind me) and tried again. Second try: even less successful.

This is when the tears started welling up. Not because of the spot, but because of life and that boy who I liked so much, even though we didn’t fit. Then, I got it.

I couldn’t fit myself into the spot he wanted me to fit into in his life.

In the moment that realization came through, I surrendered.  I gave up on my parking spot. Because the spiritual “Truth” with a capital T is, if you keep moving and don’t stay too long clinging to this thing you are attached to, a thing that “does not quite fit” (be it a parking spot, a man, a job or even a pair of jeans), you will be given something that is right for you. You will get something that fits you better.

So I pulled out of that parking spot and took a deep breath. I kept moving even though I could see very clearly from where I was in the garage that none of the “good spots” were open. When I got a bit further, there it was. The best spot.

My number one favorite-right-by-the-good-elevator-spot had been hidden from my view by other cars, but it was open. And I pulled right in effortlessly.

Here’s to keeping it moving, everyone…

Feature image by @notw2 on Twenty20