Where the Road Bends is a newsletter and podcast by Steve Schlafman offering musings on personal evolution, life transitions, and conscious change. If you were forwarded this email and it resonates, get the next issue delivered to your inbox:
“I can't believe this is happening," I kept thinking, the doubt echoing relentlessly in my mind.
I had just wrapped up the Hoffman process, a journey of profound healing and self-discovery, and was set for a weekend of integration at Kripalu—a haven for meditation, yoga and relaxation. Instead, I found myself stuck on the Massachusetts Turnpike, caught in the grip of Friday rush-hour traffic amidst a torrential downpour. The cascade of raindrops seemed to mirror the tears streaming down my face, awakening a flood of memories.
24 hours earlier, I received an unexpected call delivering sobering news—my father had begun his final transition. My heart descended to the depths of my soul. A mix of disbelief and sorrow washed over me as I grappled with the reality that my father’s life would soon be coming to an end.
Surreal doesn't even begin to describe the feeling of inching closer to a final farewell, a stark contrast to the relaxing weekend I had planned. Just a few days before, the thought of losing him hadn't even crossed my mind. Yet, here I was, suddenly pulled into the grips of an unplanned transition.
I was on the verge of crossing the threshold into a life without my father, a profound change that I had begun to prepare for but certainly hadn’t anticipated. It came so fast. My instincts told me this event wouldn’t just shape the rest of my year, but the remainder of my life.
Alone in the car, with the road stretching out before me, my mind was consumed by thoughts of my father taking his final breaths. Each mile in my rearview mirror measured the steps towards our last encounter. The urgency of just reaching him alive overshadowed everything else—the logistics of getting my family to Boston, the impending funeral arrangements, notifying my clients, and integrating my Hoffman experience. They all faded into the background. My entire being focused on the road ahead.
The shock was still alive within me, but one truth emerged as I drove: setting everything else aside required a leap of faith. Faith that he would still be alive when I arrived. Faith that the myriad details would somehow fall into place. Faith that I could handle the surge of emotions awaiting me. And most importantly, the faith that somehow, in the end, I would make it through this ok no matter how long it took to recover from the pain and void. Faith helped me focus on what was most important in that moment—getting to Boston safely so I could say goodbye.
2023 has been a tapestry of significant personal and professional transitions, a mix of planned and unforeseen, mirroring the complexity and unpredictability of life. Throughout it all, faith was the anchor and resource that allowed me to meet each moment with presence, courage and trust.
I entered this year brimming with optimism, grand visions and bold plans. My intentions included launching and scaling a podcast, designing and delivering a cohort-based course, and even kickstarting a book project. Personally, I aspired to lose 10 pounds, reduce my screen time, be more present with my kids, and deepen my connection and intimacy with my wife, Eliza. These endeavors were ambitious additions to my already thriving coaching business, growing newsletter, and demanding home responsibilities with two young girls. It was a formidable list, to say the least. Yet, as I would soon discover, life had other plans in store for me.
After 15 years in the hustle of New York City, our family sought a new beginning in the tranquil Hudson Valley. Professionally, I pivoted my coaching practice to support founders, executives, and creatives navigating their own transitions. In a move towards more intentional and conscious living, I chose to step away from Twitter and other social media platforms.
Amidst these changes, the most profound shift occurred with the loss of my father, a pivotal event that left an indelible mark on my heart and life. This loss not only reshaped my world but also brought a deeper understanding of life's impermanence, including my own.
Simultaneously, I found myself embracing a more significant role as a father and partner. The growing demands and joys of family life shifted my responsibilities and priorities, transforming me from predominantly a working man into a family man. This evolution of my identity reflected a deeper commitment to being even more present and nurturing at home.
This year also saw the pausing of my podcast and book project, creative pursuits into which I had poured considerable time, energy, and resources. And now, perhaps for the first time, I find myself firmly rooted in the realities of midlife.
Throughout the year, amid the swirl of change, the constants in my life became so clear: unwavering love for my family, steadfast dedication to my coaching clients, enduring commitment to meditation and writing, and an abiding faith that, in the end, everything would be okay.
Time brought a tapestry of unforeseen challenges, opportunities, realizations, and responsibilities. It was through daily meditations and morning pages that these elements came into sharper focus. In these moments of quiet introspection, biases, preconceived notions, and prejudices fell away, leaving space for pure presence. This was not about dwelling in rumination, but about being sufficiently still and quiet to tune into something beyond mere thoughts. To listen, really listen, to what needed attention in the present moment. It was about acknowledging these callings, giving them space, and staying with them, rather than pushing them away.
One question consistently guided my steps: What is life asking of me? Tuning towards this inquiry, I embraced the answers that surfaced, trusting they represented what wanted to emerge from within. This question and what it unearthed became a guiding light, prompting me to put aside my meticulously laid plans, projects and visions to focus on what was urgently emerging. Often, what life presented was in stark contrast to my original plans and desires, but it was essential to listen to the deeper calls I was hearing from my life and within me. As change not only reshaped the structure of my daily life but also fundamentally transformed my identity, the question 'What is life asking of me?' became a crucial navigational tool. It allowed me to respond to each new development with presence, openness, and intention.
In the midst of chaos and complexity, listening for answers to that pivotal inquiry required not only stillness but, as I learned, a profound reliance on faith and trust. I had to believe that our family would embrace and love our new life in the Hudson Valley. I needed faith that my coaching practice wouldn’t just survive but continue to thrive in its new direction. There was a leap of faith in stepping away from social media, trusting that my absence wouldn't lead to obscurity and isolation. And most importantly, I held faith that fully embracing my role as a father was the most valuable use of my time. In the wake of my father's passing, I clung to the belief that this profound loss would, in some way, bring me wisdom and resilience.
A. H. Almaas articulates, in Facets of Unity, the idea of 'basic trust':
“An unspoken, implicit trust that what is optimal will happen, the sense that whatever happens will ultimately be fine. It is the confidence that reality is ultimately good; that nature, the universe, and all that exists are of their very nature good and trustworthy; that what happens is the best that can happen.”
To me, faith embodies an unwavering trust and acceptance of our full experience, guiding us through uncertainty and change. It’s the conviction that the path ahead will unfold as it's meant to, and the willingness to trust each successive step, one at a time, even when the destination remains obscured. This faith assures us that the eventual outcome will be manageable and perhaps even positive, enabling us to navigate whatever challenges or opportunities arise. This trust empowers us to face transitions with courage and ease, embracing the wisdom and lessons that each moment brings.
Faith, at its core, is trust in yourself and the totality of your experience. This is not to be confused with mere hope, which is more a passive longing for a desired outcome. Hope often hinges on external circumstances, while faith involves a deeper, active commitment to trust in the process and the journey, regardless of the outcome. Faith is a highly active state, marked by an acceptance of the present, an inner surrendering, and a gentle softening in the heart and body.
In our achievement driven and increasingly secular culture, the words 'acceptance,' 'surrender,' and 'faith' might seem like relinquishing agency and control, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Having faith, having trust is an active pursuit. It involves allowing, acknowledging, and accepting what’s present—a situation, an emotion, a sensation, or an inkling—even if it conflicts with what we think we want or what our social network values. Faith is not about taking our hands off the wheel. Rather, it's about navigating life’s twists and turns with a different kind of guidance and resource, one that empowers us to meet and engage with life's complexities and uncertainties.
Throughout the past decade, I've leaned on faith to guide me through challenging transitions, like getting sober and stepping away from venture capital. But looking back, this faith was often fleeting, more of an intellectual concept than a felt sense. My notion of faith was frequently clouded by inner conflict and fear, receding into the background once the decisions were made and I was onto the next chapter. Only recently have I come to a profound realization: faith is not merely a temporary aid in times of change; it can be a guiding inner resource accompanying us at every step of our journey.
Earlier this year, during a profound psychedelic journey, a fundamental shift occurred within me—I awakened to the profound interconnectedness of everything. This awakening brought with it an acknowledgment of life's inherent cycles and rhythms: the rotation of celestial bodies, the natural rhythms of our planet, and the more subtle yet equally significant cycles within ourselves. This realization led me to see myself as an integral part of these cycles, deeply embedded within and connected to the world around me.
To truly embrace this interconnectedness means to sense into these cycles, to observe birth, death and rebirth, to feel their constant rhythm and flow. It requires faith to believe in the intelligence that orchestrates these patterns, understanding that they are not random but a part of a larger, cohesive system of life.
The renowned naturalist John Muir wrote in 1911, “When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.”
I began to understand and feel in my bones that we are not isolated actors on life's stage. Our movements through the world, and our interactions within it, profoundly shape our experiences and mold our sense of self. It's not just about how we perceive the world, but also how our mindset and presence influence the world's response to us. This realization highlighted a dance of mutual influence, where our internal state and the external world continually inform and reshape each other.
As I immersed myself more deeply into the study of life’s transitions and reflected on this interconnectedness, I came to a profound realization: faith is not merely beneficial, but absolutely essential for anyone journeying through change. Whether it's coping with the loss of a loved one, embarking on a significant move, or undergoing a career transformation, faith is an essential inner resource, guiding and supporting us through these life-shifting moments.
Faith, in its truest form, involves recognizing that we are not the sole architects of our destiny. It requires an acknowledgment of a deeper, more profound intelligence at work—the same intelligence that wove together an infinite tapestry of causes and conditions to give you life and bring you to this exact moment. When we understand that there are billions, if not trillions, of factors in motion at any given time, all beyond our direct experience and control, we can learn to relax into the flow of things. We trust in the inherent wisdom, power and beauty of this greater force. From this place of trust, we can step into each moment with our best effort, comforted by the knowledge that there will be another moment, another opportunity to start again, to learn, and to evolve.
This kind of faith, rooted in deep-seated trust, profoundly enhances our capacity to attune to our bodies and listen attentively to our inner voices. By cultivating both faith and stillness, we learn to honor and trust the insights that emerge, allowing them to guide us forward into the abyss with courage and clarity.
In Faith: Trusting Your Own Deepest Experience, buddhist teacher Sharon Salzberg articulates a powerful truth about faith:
“Whatever takes us to our edge, to our outer limits, leads us to the heart of life’s mystery, and there we find faith.”
Transition and change propel us into uncharted territories—within our lives and deep within ourselves. This journey into the unknown is what makes change so daunting. It's the uncertainty, the leap into the unknown that challenges us emotionally. Questions like 'Where am I heading?', 'Who am I becoming?', 'How will I navigate this?', ‘What if I fuck this up?’ and 'What if I can’t turn back?' constantly echo in our minds. This is precisely where faith becomes essential. Faith doesn't just guide us through these questions—it helps us embrace the journey, one gentle step at a time, even when the destination is yet to be revealed.
There are no guarantees that everything will work out exactly as you envision, down to the finest detail and preference. Oscillating between faith and doubt is a natural part of the process, given the unpredictable nature of life’s journey. Being human means not only embracing the inherent uncertainty of our existence but also experiencing a broad spectrum of emotions, from profound excitement to deep sorrow, which allows us to fully immerse ourselves in the richness of life.
Echoing this very sentiment, musician Jon Batiste insightfully articulates the dual nature of facing life's challenges while holding onto faith:
“You have to confront the brutal facts of reality that you might not pull it off, while at the same time having completely unwavering faith. And you've got to do both at the same time.”
Faith is a dance between accepting reality as it is and nurturing belief in the potential of what can be, a dynamic interplay that frequently shapes our journey through transition and change. As you journey through the oscillating rhythms of faith and doubt, remember to be kind to yourself. Practicing faith is an ongoing process that requires self-compassion and the understanding that it's a path of continual growth and evolution.
So, as you find yourself on the brink of a new year, I invite you to take a moment of stillness to reflect on where you stand in your life. What is life asking of you right now? What is life whispering to you? What do you hear amidst the sacred silence? Whether you are in the middle of a transition chosen or unforeseen, consider their purpose in your journey and narrative. How are these changes not just happening to you, but happening for you, reshaping your sense of self, and revealing timeless wisdom?
Embrace these questions, not as means of self-reflection, but as beacons guiding you towards self-understanding and growth in the new year. Place faith in the insights that arise, recognizing them as nuggets of wisdom for your benefit, rather than thoughts that will eventually define you for eternity. Trust in taking one gentle step at a time, moving steadily and with intention. Remember, faith is not about relentlessly pursuing perfection at home or work, or banishing doubt and questions. It’s about welcoming each miraculous day as it comes, attentively observing the unfolding of life, appreciating the inherent wisdom in every moment, and progressing with both grace and courage.
With 2023 drawing to a close, I extend my sincerest wishes to you this holiday season and the upcoming new year. May it be a period abundant with love and light, filled with special moments of joy, peace, and love. As you journey through the change and transition in the new year, may you do so with an open heart and an eager mind, ready to welcome the endless opportunities and wonders each new day brings.
Wow, thank you for this! What a gift. My parents are still alive and living independently in their mid 80s, and I have been struggling with 'anticipatory grief' as my pastor pointed out. I just came across this while re-reading The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe this morning. Aslan has just died and Lucy and Susan approach his body and take the muzzle off. "I hope no one who reads this book has been quite as miserable as Susan and Lucy were that night; but if you have been - if you've been up all night and cried till you have no more tears left in you - you will know that there comes in the end a sort of quietness. You feel as if nothing is ever going to happen again." My condolences, but I am so glad you found a way to see the interconnection. I will save this for the future and hope that I can manage with such grace.
Beautiful! ✨💫💖 Thank you!
“Earlier this year, during a profound psychedelic journey, a fundamental shift occurred within me—I awakened to the profound interconnectedness of everything. This awakening brought with it an acknowledgment of life's inherent cycles and rhythms: the rotation of celestial bodies, the natural rhythms of our planet, and the more subtle yet equally significant cycles within ourselves. This realization led me to see myself as an integral part of these cycles, deeply embedded within and connected to the world around me.”