Sea Wall

When I thought about what to write this week, the image that kept coming to mind was a sea wall battered by waves. That's a lot of what 2018 felt like to me – ceaselessly buffeting an immovable object until finally the object disintegrated. That's what happens to sea walls – they must be replaced every 30 years or so depending on how well they're constructed.

I haven't fully processed everything that happened to me this year. It still feels surreal that issues I battled for so long are suddenly gone. It's strange to no longer feel the weight of them like an anchor around my neck. But obstacles are like that – if we keep battling them, eventually they evaporate. When people said that to me at the beginning of the year, I didn't believe them. Instead I rolled my eyes because it felt like my obstacles were insurmountable, that I'd be dealing with the same things for years to come.

Eventually all walls come down. Photo by Alfred Leung on Unsplash

And now here I am at the end of the year and I no longer wake up feeling like a zombie. That probably doesn't like a big obstacle, just go to sleep at a decent hour, right? Except as I wrote in Minor Miracles, sleep wasn't so easy. I consulted Eastern and Western medicine seeking help for sleep and it wasn't until late August I found out I have upper airway resistance syndrome. I spent seven solid years with brain fog, low energy, and dread about going to bed. Now, the brain fog is gone, my energy levels are steadily increasing, and going to bed doesn't fill me with as much trepidation. The obstacle I thought I'd be dealing with until I died is suddenly gone.

I can imagine my spiritual teacher giving me a knowing smile. He is a Pollyanna type and says difficulties can never be greater than our capacity to overcome them, and that we'll overcome all obstacles. He doesn't allow for any possibility of defeat, even if it takes lifetimes. When I consider a sea wall, I wonder if perhaps his view is more realistic. There's no way a sea wall can withstand the constant pressure from the sea, the wear and tear of salt, sand, and sun. There are too many elements at play.

Maybe we human beings are like that. Maybe there are multiple unseen forces at work in our lives, acting like the salt, sand, and sun that mean we, too, will be victorious. I don't want to make it seem like overcoming obstacles is easy, because it's not. But this year has given me new appreciation and a new understanding for scaling them. When we do the slow and steady work, eventually the obstacle must collapse.

This is likely my last post of 2018 and as we come into the new year with many challenges ahead of us, I'd like to offer and maintain that perspective. Sometimes we think things won't change, or that impediments are too vast, but if we keep doing the work, if we keep putting one foot in front of the other, eventually the sea walls come down. May we all remember the power of persistence and carry it with us in the months to come.

I dream of a world where we recognize the power we all have. A world where we understand the truth about obstacles. A world where we remember if we keep chipping away at whatever is before us, eventually it will crumble and vanish into the ether.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Paying Attention

I'm a big believer that the universe is always communicating with us, but it's up to us to pay attention. A perfect example is with my driver's license. On Wednesday, I renewed my driver's license and the only reason I had all the items I required is because of a “coincidental” conversation with someone.

Days before my DMV appointment, a parent came into my office and told me about her DMV woes – how she forgot to bring her social security card and the DMV almost didn't issue her a new driver's license. California recently passed a new law requiring people to get a REAL ID for travel within the U.S. by October 2020, which necessitates showing a social security card or similar document. I had no idea a social security card was required and would have waltzed into the DMV with just my passport, thinking I was all set.

The universe is speaking. Are we listening? Photo by rawpixel on Unsplash

The universe is conspiring with us, communicating with us, but are we noticing? Are we paying attention when a random stranger shares information we might need? Are we observing the book titles people keep recommending to us, or the locations people keep mentioning?

Some people brush that off as a mere coincidence but I don't believe in coincidences. My spiritual teacher says nothing is coincidental, rather everything is incidental. But why would the universe communicate with me or care? I choose to believe in a loving world where I am co-creating with the universe. Where we are partnering together to create something that otherwise would not have been birthed. If that's true, then of course I would receive signs and communications.

I also want to acknowledge here things are not always sunshine and roses. That sometimes life throws painful things our way and then the question becomes, is the universe still a loving one? If I'm in pain, how can the universe be beneficent? What I've shared with people recently is sometimes we have to step into darkness to confront our demons and sweep them out. I know for me, the painful experiences in my life forced me to deal with things I would have kept bypassing. I very easily could have continued to skirt around issues and pretend they weren't there. Instead the universe said, “No. You need to deal with this.” And now, being on the other side, I see how true that is.

I think I'm going on a tangent but my point is the universe cares about us, loves us, and communicates with us. It's not always pleasant and it's not always easy, but if we're paying attention, the path will be smoother.

I dream of a world where we realize the universe is always communicating with us. A world where we understand things come into our lives for a reason. A world where we realize even when circumstances challenge us, they're still ultimately for our benefit.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Weathering Any Storm

I am thoroughly exhausted. Almost overnight, my entire schedule changed – when I go to bed, when I eat, when I go grocery shopping, when I do laundry. Everything has been upended and I'm working to recalibrate. Starting a new job is no joke. And even though I'm so tired I could double as a zombie, wisps of inspiration are floating around in my brain that I feel like blogging about.

For many years, a good friend of mine spoke to me about resilience and the ability to bounce back from hardship. Another good friend of mine mentioned the book Grit by Angela Duckworth who writes about the power of persistence. Something happened to me in the past month to solidify both adjectives in my life. I have a new sense of confidence in my ability to handle whatever life throws at me. I truly feel I can weather any storm. Even saying that I start to get choked up.

I'm feeling confident I can handle any storm. Photo by Ju On on Unsplash

How did it happen? How did I get here? The answer is I faced one of my greatest fears and I survived. I'm no stranger to facing my fears, I do so regularly, and each time my confidence grew a little more. This last fear was no different. I added another brick to the wall of self-confidence. What's interesting is I've also given up on the notion I can thwart terrible things from happening. A part of me has worked tirelessly to prevent terrible things. It's a lot of where my anxiety comes into play. If only I can control every possible outcome, if only I can plan a little bit better, I'll feel safe. Except this year demonstrated to me how laughable that really is. This year brought flood, fire, death, and destruction both close to home and far away.

I realized more deeply all I can do is take care of myself and let go of the rest. When the wildfires came, smoke billowed over the horizon. I watched it from my window, seeping across the Bay. I did the only thing I could – I wore a mask and purchased an air filter. I accepted the situation and took care of myself; I signed up for emergency alerts in case of evacuation. And then I waited for more information.

I read a piece of literature recently that said, “We have each other and we have a higher power. We're going to make it.” Reading it, I felt an internal zing radiate through my body declaring, “Yes!” It's not that terrible things cease happening, it's rather we support each other. We extend a helping hand to one another in whatever ways we can. We trust in the universe, and we let go.

Trust is a big thing for me. It doesn't come easily and it certainly doesn't come easily when it involves a non-tangible entity like Spirit. Asking me to trust is like asking a person to step out of an airplane without a parachute. And yet in the past month, that's exactly what I did. Instead of falling flat on my face, the universe lifted me up and I flew.

This is likely one of the most rambling posts I've ever written, but to sum up, I've learned I can't prevent terrible things from happening. All I can do is keep picking myself up when I fall, take care of myself, support others and vice versa, and trust in the universe. When I do that, I can weather any storm and I have that wish for everyone.

I dream of a world where we keep bouncing back when we get knocked down. A world where we practice perseverance. A world where we take care of ourselves to the best of our capacity and help others do the same. A world where we trust the universe and understand sometimes instead of falling we'll fly.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Our Dreams are Earmarked

It's been a whirlwind of a month – leaving my job, finding a new one, adding more than 42,000 words to my novel, Thanksgiving, freelance writing, catching the flu, and then December 1^st was my birthday. I haven't had time to process it all. I'm still recovering so needless to say, my creative capacity right now is zilch. The only post that came to mind was this one from almost exactly a year ago. The circumstances are different but the message is still valid. Enjoy.



It doesn't happen to me often that I'm up most of the night, wide awake, unable to sleep, but it's happening as I write this in my journal. It seems only fitting for the topic of this post, dreams.

The other day I pulled an oracle card and it was called “The Retriever.” The Retriever is a fairy who retrieves that which is lost, including dreams. The Retriever will hold onto the dream until the person is ready to pick it up again. Drawing the card I felt comforted. A sense of ease washed over me. I visualized my dreams as an orb off in the hinterlands.

So often we talk about our dreams as something to pursue, to constantly work toward, like they're a marathon to train for. The Retriever reminds me my dreams are out there, ready and waiting for me, when I can attend to them. I don't have to worry about them disappearing like a soap bubble if I'm unable to focus on them – they're not going anywhere.

Each of these "dreams" is earmarked for a person. Photo by Ella Jardim on Unsplash.

Right now as you likely know, I'm unable to pursue my dreams to the degree I'd like. All I have the capacity for at this time is focusing on my health. I mean, obviously because I'm writing this post in the middle of the night instead of sleeping. While I could heap on further disappointment by telling myself my poor health is evidence my dreams will never come true, and I'll be stuck here forever and always, I'm reminding myself my dreams are out in a field somewhere, earmarked for me, waiting patiently.

My spiritual teacher says that “whatever happens in this universe of ours is nothing but an expression of Cosmic desire or Cosmic will … when a human desire and His desire coincide, then only does the human desire become fruitful, otherwise it is a sure failure.” That's a long way to talk about divine timing, but I also think it's a message that I can focus on other things, like my health, knowing one day my desire will match the Cosmic desire, and my dreams will manifest. I would say I can't wait, but that's not true. I can wait and I will, because my dreams are out there somewhere with my name on them. There's no rush. And that means I can take all the time I need.

I dream of a world where we realize our dreams are earmarked for us. A world where we realize our dreams don't disappear if we're unable to focus on them when and how we'd like. A world where we have peace of mind, recognizing when we're ready to retrieve our dreams, they'll be there waiting for us.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Stored Emotion

This topic has come up in at least three conversations with people in the last week so I'm taking it to mean it would be a good topic to blog about. It's a bit of a departure from what I normally write, but that happens sometimes.

Approximately 10 years ago I learned of EFT, also known as emotional freedom technique, or tapping. The process combines the use of acupressure with psychology. Tapping with the fingertips on specific meridian endpoints of the body helps to calm the nervous system, rewire the brain, and restore the body’s balance of energy. I found the practice to be sort of helpful. I felt better after tapping, but nothing really changed for me. I still carried around a lot of fear, my health didn't improve, my finances didn't change, I remained single. It wasn't the magic pill I was hoping for. So I stopped tapping.

Sometimes we store emotion in places. Photo by Olliss on Unsplash.

More than a month ago, I heard an interview with Jessica Ortner, one of the big names in tapping, and decided to try again. I picked up the book by her brother Nick Ortner, called The Tapping Solution, and read his section on pain. He asked the question, “Is there an emotion associated with the pain?” As someone who is extremely psychosomatic, this question is a game-changer for me. At the time, I had painful menstrual cramps – that didn't abate with painkillers or a heating pad or any of the things I usually try. I asked myself, “Is there an emotion associated with this pain?” and the answer was “sadness.” I started tapping all of the acupressure points while I said out loud, “All this sadness in my uterus, all this sadness in my uterus. I'm releasing it and letting it go now.” Tears streaked down my cheeks as I cried over something that happened to me a long time ago, that I thought I was over.

I kept tapping until I felt better, and wouldn't you know it, no more menstrual pain. I tried it for other things too. My feet swelled up due to poison oak and the healing process seemed to stagnate. I asked myself the question, “Is there an emotion associated with the swelling in my feet?” and the answer was “anger.” So I tapped through that too, and then the next morning my feet returned to normal size. I think most of us are aware of the mind-body connection, but I was surprised at how a specific body part can store an emotion, and how that emotion can linger in place for years.

I share all this because perhaps the recurring back pain or rash that won't go away, or whatever, is your body telling you something. Maybe there's an emotion there asking to be felt and the pain or symptom won't go away until it's been addressed. I'm a stubborn gal so it's no surprise my body is too. The beautiful and magical thing though is with just a few minutes of tapping, we can feel the emotions, release them, and let them go.

I dream of a world where let go of stored emotions. A world where we recognize sometimes pain carries a feeling and we can take the time to feel the emotion and then move on. A world where we use all the tools at our fingertips to help ourselves heal.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Life Is A Drama

It's been a crazy whirlwind of a week and the only thing that comes to mind is this post I wrote nearly two years ago in January 2017. I'm sharing it again now.

I asked a friend the other day how he maintains hope and faith when the whole world seems to have gone mad, and he told me he views life as a drama – there will be happy parts and sad parts and scary parts. He doesn't expect life to be a smooth ride where nothing happens.

He also told me a particular scene we find distasteful could be pivotal to the story – in hindsight we may find certain actions were crucial.

I like his perspective – it helps me to detach a little and not become quite so dismayed at the events in the world. I'm not saying I no longer care, nor that we should sit back and do nothing. Rather, his perspective reminds me this is reality. I want everyone to be happy all the time. I want life to proceed in a straight line improving day by day. I want rainbows and sunshine and kittens prancing through fields all day long. But that's not what we're living in, and that's never what we've lived in. Life is a series of ups and downs, twists and turns. And furthermore, there are good people and bad people, just like in any riveting tale. There are heroes and villains, and I hate to admit it, but the villains usually prompt the heroes to leave the house. If the villains weren't engaging in some nefarious scheme, the heroes would twiddle their thumbs and maybe knit a scarf. Personally, I'd find that kind of story dull and would ask for my money back.

So melodramatic.

Similarly, real life is the same way. There are heroes and villains, there are wise advisers and fools. We all have our parts to play, but unfortunately, no one handed us a script or fed us our lines.

My spiritual teacher says, “When human beings bring something within the scope of their intellect, and by perceiving and observing it closely, can understand the cause behind it, this is called kriidá; and when the cause is beyond the scope of their thinking it is called liilá [or play]. Whatever the Macrocosm does is beyond the periphery of the human intellect, and that is why whatever He does is His liilá.”

My interpretation of this quote is a lot of stuff happens in this world. Some of it I will understand and some of it I won't, and maybe never will. The stuff I don't understand is liilá or play. My point of view is instead of agonizing over why this happened or why this didn't happen, it's better for me to take the mindset that life is a play, life is a drama, something I get to witness unfolding.

What I also believe to be true is ultimately the arc of civilization bends toward the beneficent. Ultimately things improve for all of us. However, getting there sometimes requires clash and conflict. Sometimes things get crazy and bizarre, like any good drama, before they are sorted out. It seems to me right now our society is in the middle of an important and intense scene, one that I'd like to believe is leading us somewhere better, but it won't make sense until later on when the story plays out.

I dream of a world where we view life as a drama. A world where we realize the ups and downs are a part of life. A world where we understand we all have our part to play and we play it with gusto. A world where we keep doing our part trusting eventually the story will resolve.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Keep Going

Right now wildfires besiege California. Tens of thousands have lost their homes and many more have evacuated. Where I live, the weather forecast this weekend was “smoky.” Firefighters are working around the clock to contain the conflagration. The only thing that comes to mind is that quote from Winston Churchill who said, “If you're going through hell, keep going.” It applies to the people working tirelessly to keep us safe, to the people fleeing for their lives, and to the people unaffected by the blazes.

I'm not a firefighter, but I'm also fighting some battles. Somehow I picked up poison oak on my feet. How that happened is a mystery – likely the one day I sat outside barefoot on redwood leaves they previously touched poison oak. What that means is my right foot in particular looks unhappy. I'll spare you the details because I get grossed out by those sorts of things, but my doctor assures me with poison oak, it gets worse before it gets better. Right now I don't really believe her. It's hard to see my skin returning to normal when things look so bad right now.

Sometimes life is a matter of putting one foot in front of the other. Photo by Simon Migaj on Unsplash

Similarly, with my novel, I don't believe I'll hit 50,000 words at the end of the month. Every day I'm meeting or exceeding the daily word count to reach that goal, but it still seems nigh impossible. Why is that? Because I'm in the thick of things. I'm continuing to battle and the tide hasn't turned yet. I could stop. We all could. We all could give up, surrender, admit defeat. But where does that leave us?

I also want to acknowledge here it's difficult to keep fighting. It's difficult to continue moving forward when the task before us seems overwhelming. I don't envy the firefighters in California right now, nor do I envy anyone confronting a battle of their own. But I support them, and myself, and everyone else. I will keep cheering from the sidelines as many are doing for me. And I will hold out hope for the fire to die and the smoke to clear, just like it has where I live. I don't know what the future holds, but on Sunday morning, I looked out my window and saw a blue sky above the smoke layer for the first time in days. May we all see blue skies literally and figuratively sooner rather than later.

I dream of a world where we keep fighting when the situation calls for it. A world where we understand sometimes it takes a while before the tides turn and victory is in sight. A world where we cheer each other on as we all go through our own versions of hell. A world where we keep going.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Do The Thing You Think You Can't

This month I'm participating in NaNoWriMo – that's National Novel Writing Month for the uninformed. It's an internet campaign that encourages people to write 50,000 words during the month of November. That's roughly 200 pages in book land when you take into account formatting and page size. It's approximately 75 pages single spaced in a word processing document.

Writing this much during the month of November, or any time really, feels nigh impossible for me. I used to say with sincerity that I can't write fiction to save my life, and now here I am writing fiction. Some people might scratch their heads upon hearing that. Aren't I a professional writer? Haven't I been, you know, writing, for nearly my entire life? What's the big deal with fiction? Isn't it all the same? In brief, no.

Yep, I'm writing one of these. Photo by Mahendra Kumar on Unsplash

As a journalist, I write about the world around me. I summarize and synthesize information already available. I don't create anything, I merely convey information. Writing fiction is the complete opposite. The novelist must create an entire world and have it make sense. Even fantasy and science fiction conforms to certain rules manufactured by the author. Characters have to seem like real people with real emotions and motivations, otherwise we deem them “flat.” As someone who has spent decades reporting on real people and real events to suddenly switch gears and report on imaginary people and imaginary events is no easy task. And yet, here I am, doing the thing I think I can't.

This post isn't altogether profound because, well, I've already been writing for two hours every day outside of my writing job, but there's something important for me here about mentioning we're capable of more than we think. We place limits on ourselves and what we presume we can accomplish, but maybe that's inaccurate. When I hear about incredible things other people do my first reaction is usually, “I could never do that.” But could I?

My spiritual teacher says something to the effect of exhaust all of your own strength and energy and then if you're supposed to continue, the universe will give you more strength and energy. That's not a recipe for burnout, by the way. It's not an invitation to run ourselves ragged. Rather, it's the acknowledgment that if you're lost, wounded, and starving in the woods, for instance, if you're meant to live, somehow you'll find the reserves to crawl 200 miles on your hands and knees to civilization. That's not an exaggeration, by the way. It's the true story of Hugh Glass, who Leonardo DiCaprio depicted in the movie The Revenant.

What I'm saying here is we are all capable of more than we think. Will I be able to write a total of 50,000 words by the end of this month? I'm not sure, but I'm working toward that every day. I'm tackling something seemingly impossible for me and doing the thing I think I can't. And even if I fail, this process is stretching me in ways I never anticipated and that in and of itself is valuable.

I dream of a world where we do the things we think we can't. A world where we realize we are stronger, smarter, and more capable than we are aware. A world where we realize if something is meant to be, the universe will lend us a hand.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Flouting Conventional Wisdom

The other week I had a conversation with a friend who told me instead of following conventional wisdom and keeping his part-time job to pay the bills, he devoted himself completely to his own business and went into debt. And now, years later, his business is taking off and turning a profit. I love stories like this because they remind me there isn't only one way to do things.

Our society likes to give advice – we spend millions of dollars on self-help books every year. We constantly think someone else knows how to do things. We hear people say things like, “It's when you stop looking for a relationship that you find one,” and absorb it like the gospel truth. Except, for every couple who had that experience, I can name another pair who married because they met through a dating app. They were actively looking and it worked out.

Sometimes we have to forge our own way. Photo by Nathan McBride on Unsplash.

As for myself, it's scary and thrilling to contemplate there's more than one way to do things. It's scary and thrilling for me to contemplate that sometimes conventional wisdom is wrong. It feels much safer to purchase an e-course for four easy payments of $99.99 that will give me the steps to success. A guarantee that I, too, can have the life of my dreams if I only follow the advice of someone else. I want to acknowledge here self-help books and e-courses have merit. I've purchased many of them and they improved my life, but only the books and courses that encouraged me to seek my own internal wisdom. The books and courses that led me deeper into myself were the most helpful because ultimately we are each our own compass.

According to my spiritual philosophy, we are each a reflection of Cosmic Consciousness. We are all mirrors showing an image of the same moon, so to speak. However, each mirror is unique with different shapes and sizes. Some mirrors are dirtier than others. Some mirrors are cracked. But each mirror is still reflecting the moon. And when I think about my mirror reflecting the moon, I feel more at peace because the inner compass exists. I have a guide already to show me where I need to go.

Last week I spoke about trusting in the divine and understanding the universe may only light up one or two steps in front of me. But the path is there, and sometimes the path requires I deviate from the established footsteps of those before me. Sometimes it means heading into uncharted territory but that doesn't mean I'm without a guide.

I dream of a world where we remember we have our own internal guidance system. A world where we realize sometimes we have to find our own way and it may not always make sense. A world where we understand we are all different and what works for someone else may not work for us. A world where we understand sometimes we have to flout conventional wisdom.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Trust in the Divine

A few years ago I went to a neuro-linguistic programming workshop and the organizer said desire works in one of two ways: push or pull. We either say, “Yes, that” about something, or “No, not this.” What I'm realizing is intuition works in the same way.

I'm familiar with the “yes, that” intuition – it drove me to move to San Francisco, to call that person last week, to read that book. I know how to handle “yes, that” intuition. “No, not this” is more challenging. I don't mean the one-off, “Don't go down that dark alley” sort. That's easy to listen to. What I find more difficult is the sort of intuition that says, “You can't live here” and there's no other home showing up. Or the intuition that says, “You can't work here” but another job is not on the horizon. It's the directionless, leap-of-faith intuition that unnerves me.

 I associate light with the divine. Photo by Micah Hallahan on Unsplash.

My spiritual teacher defines intuition as a reflection of Consciousness, or Spirit. He also says that meditation leads to a clearer reflection of Consciousness. When I think about it like that, intuition becomes more simple. It's a snapshot in time. It's an expression of something greater than me, not a seven-point plan for life.

Something I often tell my mentees is higher power will shine a flashlight, dictating where to put our feet next, and that's it. I want higher power to light up the sky and show me all the steps, give me all the directions, indicate exactly where I'm heading, but it doesn't always work that way. In my experience, the way forward is often unknown and my part is to trust the path will appear. Even when it's scary, even when it doesn't make sense, even when it flies in the face of conventional wisdom.

It's interesting for me to notice when I play trust games with people I have no problems. I will close my eyes and allow myself to walk forward blindly, knowing the people I'm playing with will keep me from running into trees or stumbling over rocks. However, when it comes to trusting the divine, I don't feel quite so fearless. I'd much rather keep my eyes open and see where I'm going.

The conclusion I'm coming to is at this point in my life my eyes must stay closed. I'm getting the full, well-rounded picture of intuition, trusting the future will be exactly what I need. Trusting that even though I can't see what's next, the divine can and is taking care of it.

I dream of a world where we recognize intuition doesn't always guide us to something, that sometimes it steers us away from something. A world where we realize we can't always know exactly what's next. A world where we remember taking a leap of faith means trusting in the divine and we do just that.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

The Individual and the Collective

Lately I've been thinking about the role of the individual and the collective and how sometimes the individual's desires are met at the expense of the collective's. In particular, I'm thinking in the context of climate change. Recently I read the most horrific article about climate change predicting a genocide from it. How in some places drought will last for five years. Five years! People, I'm not too proud to admit I'm terrified, because I am.

I also thought about how we got into this mess and from my perspective anyway, it seems in many cases we put short-term gain before long-term sustainability. How some corporations decided as long as they could make a profit now, that's all that mattered. The future? Well, that's in the future. Worry about it then. I realize I'm painting corporations as the villain, but corporations are made up of people. I see shortsightedness in individuals as well. When I lived in London, I had a roommate who steamed a dress by running the shower while she puttered around in the bedroom. When I called her on it, she said, “Well, I pay for the water.” Her response dumbfounded me. What do you even say to that? She felt like she had every right to waste water because she paid for it. In that circumstance anyway she didn't think about the impact of her actions. She only thought about how she wanted her dress wrinkle-free but didn't want to expend time ironing it.

We're all spinning on the same blue planet. Photo by NASA on Unsplash.

Sometimes we live in bubbles and think our actions don't affect other people or our environment. We don't think about how interdependent we all are. On the other hand, sometimes we take too much responsibility. I read another article in the Guardian about how our personal actions to combat climate change only go so far. Switching to compact fluorescent light bulbs only does so much. Of course it makes a difference, but the scale is small compared with the greenhouse gases emitted by agribusiness and factories. Many of us have bought into the idea solving climate change is the individual's responsibility. It is. And it's not. We must work in tandem. Carry a canvas tote bag but also put pressure on corporations to change their ways. Drive an electric car but also demand the government build better public transportation infrastructure.

This post is a little all over the place but what I'm getting at is sometimes for the good of the collective we have to sacrifice a little. Sometimes for the good of the collective we can't think only of ourselves and what works for us. Sometimes we have to think about other people too and the environment and how all the pieces fit together. We have to remember we aren't our own ecosystems. We aren't islands completely removed from others. We all fit together and that means our selfish and self-centered tendencies must be reigned in. We are individuals and we are a collective. Both matter and both have a part to play. For the long-term health of the planet, we must learn to work together in harmony.

I dream of a world where we balance the needs of individuals with the needs of society as a whole. A world where we keep in mind the future and long-term sustainability of the planet and each other. A world where we learn to work in harmony for the good of all of us.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Watch Time versus Calendar Time

This weekend I met someone formerly associated with my yoga and meditation group way back in the 70s when he lived in Atlanta. That may not seem especially remarkable, but it's literally never happened to me before. I've met people who had some exposure to it, but not people who engaged with the practices and then drifted away. My yoga and meditation group, while worldwide, is small and the chances of an affiliation with it coming up in a first conversation with someone at a party is unlikely. I grin thinking about the encounter from this weekend because it reminds me the universe is not random and chaotic. There is an order and an intelligence at play of which I get glimpses sometimes.

I take comfort in believing order and intelligence reigns because there are a lot of things going on in the world and in my life that I don't understand, that I wish were different. There are certain elected officials I wish weren't in office. There are certain policies I wish were abolished. I wish my body reacted differently to certain foods. I wish I didn't have certain ailments. And when I spend all my time wishing things were different – while also working to change them – I get frustrated and feel like I'm beating my head against a brick wall. I easily succumb to despair. When life throws a little magic, a little synchronicity my way, hope flares up again and I'm reminded that perhaps I'm unable to see the whole picture. That I'm a character in a play that only knows her lines and not the lines of everyone else.

And then there's sand timer time. Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

The other reason I appreciate the encounter from this weekend is the demonstration that things circle back. The man I met hasn't been an active member of my group for nearly 50 years and now he might pick it up again. In my mind, if something doesn't happen in the short term, it will never happen. I have big dreams and at the moment it seems like I'm veering away from them. I have sadness about that because these dreams are near and dear to my heart, but at the moment they aren't feasible given my energy levels and my financial situation. Does that mean I give them up for good?

Intellectually I understand the answer to that question is “no.” I see many models in society of people who accomplished things later in life, but emotionally, the answer feels like a “yes.” The more reminders I have that things circle back, that dreams can be delayed, the better.

My spiritual teacher says that “whatever happens in this universe of ours is nothing but an expression of Cosmic desire or Cosmic will … when a human desire and His desire coincide, then only does the human desire become fruitful, otherwise it is a sure failure.”

Sometimes when I want something to happen doesn't match up to when the cosmos wants something to happen. Sometimes the soil isn't fertile enough. Sometimes you plant something and the yield is pitiful, but after adding nutrients to the soil, the yield is plentiful. I'm reminded here the universe is playing a long game. My recovery mentor says, “You're looking at your watch while Higher Power is looking at the calendar.” My part I think is having patience, trust, and faith in the timing of things.

I dream of a world where we remember the universe has a long-term plan while many of us only think in the short term. A world where we recognize if we're not ready for something just yet, it will circle back to us if it's meant to be. A world where we realize while it may not seem so on the surface, the world is an ordered, intelligent place.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Kith and Kin

I'm sick right now so I can't guarantee the eloquence of this post, but I wanted to write something anyway because I feel passionately about this topic. I'm observing a few things going on in the world right now. Tension is high. People are pissed, rightly so, at all the injustice running rampant. I'm not a sexual assault survivor, but I was also affected by the Ford-Kavanaugh hearing. To listen to so many horrible stories from people and to witness some of the reactions to them didn't make me feel good. Everyone wants to feel seen, heard, and respected and when we're not, it's painful.

I also notice people in power are pissed too. Again, one only has to look at Kavanaugh's testimony to see that. He didn't show up to the hearing contrite. He showed up belligerent, denying all accusations. The New Yorker ran an opinion piece declaring the Ford-Kavanaugh hearing will be remembered as a “grotesque display of patriarchal resentment.”

We are one big family. Photo by rawpixel on Unsplash

These are the times we're living in. From an astrological perspective, there's a whole lot of “othering” going on, as in separating from others, erecting boundaries, and dehumanizing people. Astrology is not causal, it's instead like a map, and in this instance, we as a society are demonstrating the disintegrated version of the Saturn:Pluto transit. Othering is not limited to sexism, its showing up everywhere. It shows up in the treatment of people of color, in immigrants, of the LGBTQIA community. Anyone who doesn't fall into the majority is subjected to “othering.” What's interesting for me to notice though is even those who are privileged and in the majority are not immune to being “othered.” I read an exchange on facebook where a white man posted something he thought was supportive of the #metoo movement and a woman blasted him for it because she thought otherwise. She said instead his post played into patriarchy, that he is part of the problem, that he's another privileged white dude perpetuating the disempowerment of women.

I get where people are coming from and at the same time I'm reminded of a quote someone shared on facebook that struck me as relevant for the times we're living in: “If you don't heal what hurt you, you'll bleed all over the person who didn't cut you.” Yep. Lots of bleeding right now. Lots of hurt people walking around. We are all taking out our pain on each other.

What is the solution here? The solution I think is three-fold: One, to heal what hurt us, whatever that looks like. Two, I think it's important to practice empathy, to understand the perspective of all our siblings. We don't all have the same experiences, but we all have the same needs. There is more that binds us than divides us. Lastly, as philosopher P.R. Sarkar writes in his book, The Liberation of Intellect: Neohumanism, “You will have to carry the collectivity with you, because the collectivity is yours. The collectivity is not outside you – your future is inseparably connected with the collective fortune. You must take the entire collectivity with you and move toward the sweetest radiance of the new crimson dawn, beyond the veil of the darkest night.”

We are a collective, moving together. We are a universal family sharing the resources of this planet. We are like a garden filled with numerous flowers, but ultimately all a part of the same garden. Like flowers, on the surface we have different petals, different leaves. Some of us require more water and some of us require less, but we are all flowers. We all require care and attention and I truly believe we can make it so.

I dream of a world where we all work together to take care of each other. A world where we seek to understand our kith and kin. A world where we remember we have more in common than we might believe. A world where we realize there is no “other,” only us.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Permanent, Unwavering Shelter

My apartment building is up for sale. Suffice to say, I'm freaking out about it because I'm worried I'll have to move. To be clear, the building hasn't been sold yet, there's no evidence to support my anxiety, but it's here nonetheless. It's here because finding a place to live has proved challenging for me. I've moved 31 times in 33 years. From 2012 to 2015, I moved on average every three months. Something always forced me out – my landlady's dog biting me and drawing blood, bad neighbors, an inhospitable landlady, etc. It's always been something out of my control so my current situation is resurrecting a lot of trauma because this, too, is out of my control.

I spoke with a friend on Friday and she reminded me that even if I bought a house, something could happen like a wildfire or flooding. Those are real scenarios as we've all seen. There's no absolute certainty, no guaranteed safety, and for an anxious person, that's the last thing I want to contemplate. My friend and my therapist remind me real safety comes from the ability to respond to a situation. To pivot as necessary. Safety means rolling with the punches.

Not my house but I like the mix of something steadfast with a home. Photo by Seth kane on Unsplash.

Right now I'd rather not roll with the punches, thank you very much. Right now I'd like to hide away under the covers and withdraw from the world. I don't particularly want to write this blogpost either but I am because this is what I do, I write. I also know there are many people who feel similarly – maybe not about housing, but about something else.

Where do I go from here? From here, I fall back on my spiritual practices, where I always go. According to my spiritual philosophy there is an unchanging, absolute, eternal entity. Some people call that entity God or Cosmic Consciousness or Source or the Universe. The name doesn't matter so much. My meditation is an effort to move ever closer to that unchanging, absolute, eternal entity and then to merge with it. One of the names for this practice in Sanskrit is Iishvara prańidhána. Iishvara means controller of the universe and prańidhána means to adopt something as a shelter. Therefore, Iishvara prańidhána means to adopt the controller of the universe as a shelter. It means to take refuge in the controller of the universe. That sounds academic, I know, but in essence it means to align myself with the divine.

What does that mean about my fear surrounding housing? It means one way to deal with the fear is to put myself in the Cosmic flow, to allow myself to be sheltered by something bigger than me. To accept the protection of my higher power with the nuance that bad things happen and good things happen and through it all I have a permanent, unwavering shelter.

I dream of a world where we take permanent shelter in something bigger than us. A world where we recognize certainty doesn't come from things staying rigid but rather shoring up our internal strength and resilience to respond to stimuli. A world where we recognize there is an unchanging entity we can attach ourselves to and that's where real security lies.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Minor Miracles

Something miraculous happened in my life recently. Not an Old Testament kind of miracle – no parting of the Red Sea or a burning bush. Nor have I received the modern-day version of a miracle where after one visit to one doctor I walked away cured. No, my miracles all arose after slow and steady progress. My miracles are of the incremental variety, but no less astounding.

For the past seven years almost to the day, I've struggled with sleep. Every day I woke up with brain fog, feeling like a zombie. I tried all of the things – diet, exercise, acupuncture, EFT, reiki, shamanic healing, ozone therapy, sleeping pills. Nothing made a huge difference. I still woke up every morning with what felt like cotton in my brain. I went through many, many cycles of hope and despair. I spent thousands of dollars searching for a cure. The sleep deprivation became so unbearable I took time off from work and slept in every day for weeks. It made no difference.

In July I did a sleep study, not expecting much. It felt like grasping at straws, another chance to try one more thing and at the very least see what was happening with my sleep. At first glance, the sleep study didn't reveal much. In fact, the sleep clinic sent me a form letter advising I cut out alcohol, which is laughable because I don't drink, ever. The sleep clinic professionals shrugged their shoulders and sent me on my merry way. I couldn't accept that answer. Didn't accept that answer. Even though the sleep study revealed I have mild sleep apnea, not enough for a CPAP machine, obviously something wasn't right. How could it be if I couldn't remember the last time I slept well?

I called a few sleep specialists and booked an appointment. I want to be clear here no intuitive voice urged me to call a certain doctor. I didn't receive a nudge from the universe about any of this. I struck out in desperation. The sleep specialist diagnosed me with upper airway resistance syndrome, which is a close cousin of sleep apnea. Whereas in apnea breathing stops, with upper airway resistance syndrome, breathing is impaired. I've been wearing the device pictured below for more than two weeks and for the first time in seven years, when I wake up, I don't feel like I have cotton in the brain.

The yellow arrow points to the "wing" that keeps my jaw pushed forward, opening my airway.

I want to be clear here that I'm still tired. I still take a nap every day. I didn't wake up after one night of using the device full of energy. It will be a slow build but I'm feeling different and that's a miracle. Why am I telling you all this? For a couple of reasons. The first is if you or someone you know is tired all the time and has trouble sleeping, get a sleep study. The second reason I'm sharing all this is to say keep slogging away. You never know when change will happen.

Lastly, I share this story because it doesn't fit in with any sort of mythology. I didn't find what I was looking for when I stopped looking. Change didn't happen when I accepted my situation. I didn't hear any intuitive guidance steering me in a certain direction. Surrender didn't help me with my diagnosis. What helped me, what brought me peace of mind, is thinking perhaps everything has a lifecycle. That my health condition had to play itself out and there was no amount of wishing, praying, fighting, or accepting that was going to change the situation. Like I wrote about in June, regarding my poppies, we can water flowers and give them sunshine, but when they bloom is not up to us. Maybe a lot of things in life are like that. Maybe there's no formula to follow and instead we have to wait for whatever it is to play out.

I know it can be disheartening for some to contemplate how little control we have over certain situations, but I'm also writing to demonstrate change can happen and does happen. That a miracle can come at anytime. It could be seven years, or it could be seven minutes, but please, please keep going. I'm starting to cry because I struggled for so long, I honestly gave up hope that I would ever be able to feel well-rested ever again and now here we are. Well-rested is something quite likely in my future and that is a miracle.

I dream of a world where we realize miracles can happen at any time. A world where we keep going and then stop and then keep going again. A world where we recognize sometimes we just have to wait for things to change and not beat ourselves up about it. A world where we celebrate miracles, even when they're small.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

The Life/Death/Life Cycle

Life and death have been on my mind lately because two people in my community have died in the past three weeks. I notice in myself and others a tendency to ward off death as much as possible. We do what we can to prolong life because we fear death. Not only death in the physical realm, but in other arenas as well. We stay in dysfunctional relationships, jobs we hate, cities we loathe. We avoid going to therapy or addressing our addictions. We do all this because endings are scary, even if we know they're warranted.

Right now I'm reading Clarissa Pinkola Estés' Women Who Run With the Wolves. In it she addresses the wild woman archetype and tells stories to illustrate certain concepts. One of the more famous ones is the ugly duckling tale. The story that speaks to me the most right now is that of the Skeleton Woman. Click the link for an animated version of the story, but the abbreviated version is a fisherman hooks a skeleton woman and not realizing she is caught on his line, tries to run from her. He bumps along the land with the woman on his tail and dives into his hovel thinking he's safe. Alas, it is not so. She is inside his home, limbs akimbo. In the candlelight he takes pity on her, untangling her from his line, righting her limbs. Then he falls asleep and a tear leaks from the corner of his eye, which the Skeleton Woman drinks up thirstily. While he's still sleeping, she pulls out his heart, holds it in her hand and flesh is drummed back onto her bones. She becomes a human again. She returns his heart and then falls asleep next to him, and “that is how they awakened, wrapped one around the other, tangled from their night, in another way now, a good and lasting way.”

Whenever we catch something new, the Skeleton Woman is on the end of the hook. Photo by Lim changwon on Unsplash

Estés asserts for any relationship to survive and thrive, people must reckon with Lady Death, which is what the Skeleton Woman represents. They must welcome her into their home, tend to her, make peace with her in order to breathe life into something new. I think the principle applies not only to relationships, but all things. We must make peace with the fact a beginning will have an ending, followed by another beginning. I constantly forget that. When I experience an ending, some part of me still tries to hold on, as I wrote about last week.

On Saturday, I witnessed first-hand new life springing from death. I attended a grief ritual where I cried with others as they held me and I held them. I cried for someone I barely knew and I cried for things I couldn't articulate. I bonded with people I only know in passing and felt a new closeness to them. All around me I observed a deepening of love for each other. A group of people that otherwise likely wouldn't have met. I viewed new life springing from tragedy. Do I wish we'd met in another context? Absolutely. And at the same time, death helped create something new. The more I give into and accept the life/death/life cycle, the more serene I feel. The less scared I am of the future and what could happen because I understand death will always bring something new.

I dream of a world where we embrace the life/death/life cycle. A world where we no longer fear death as something permanent and final, but instead see it as the precursor to something new. A world where we mourn, we grieve, and we accept we'll always have to confront death in some form or fashion. But it doesn't have to be as scary as we are led to believe.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Letting Go

All week I've bobbed along on an ocean of grief, coming in and out of numbness. Another community member of mine died, a monk from my yoga and meditation group. He had cancer so it wasn't altogether unexpected, but still sad. I cried when I first heard the news and then I thought I was over it. Until I noticed I checked my email, facebook, and instagram a million times trying to dodge my grief. How I wanted to escape my life and be in someone else's. Who wants to feel grief? Grief sucks.

In texting with a friend, I realized I have resistance to grieving, not only about this monk, but other losses in my life, because if I do, that means I've fully let go. It's a real and final goodbye. And in order to keep the person a presence in my life, I've tried to block my feelings. Like a child who says, “If I don't say goodbye to you then you can't leave, right?” But they have and can and do. Whether I say goodbye or not doesn't matter. And even when I do say goodbye, even when I know a person is knocking on death's door, it still doesn't mean I'm ready to bid them adieu. Is anyone ever truly ready to say goodbye to someone?

"Becoming the ocean" is no easy task. Photo by Ngaere Woodford-Bender on Unsplash.

When I was much younger, I remember trying to comfort my dad after someone died. I tried to console him with the notion that we're all still connected. That just because a person has left their physical body doesn't mean the relationship has severed. Nor does it mean we won't reunite, especially as he and I believe in reincarnation. I'll never forget, he countered with, “Yeah, but we'll never meet each other again in this life.” That's what grief is; recognizing and honoring that loss. No amount of saying, “You'll see each other again,” can sidestep the loss.

So I'm crying in fits and spurts. I'm also contemplating what my spiritual teacher said about the dissolution of ego. How many people are scared of merging with something bigger than themselves because they view it as annihilation. To describe the process he uses the metaphor of a salt doll and the sea. He says, “If a salt doll goes to measure the sea, it will melt into it. Neither can it measure the sea, nor will it ever return; its existence will merge into the vastness of the sea, releasing it from all cares and worries. If one wishes to take the form of the sea, one will have to become the sea itself; there is no other way.”

If I wish to continue progressing in this life, I have to become the sea itself. I have to let go. To feel the feelings that I'm blocking. And in doing so, I'll come upon something bigger than me. The salt doll becomes the ocean. Perhaps the grief I feel is carrying me toward something else, something bigger that I'm unaware of. And instead of the loss of my friends as final, maybe I'm traveling to a place altogether new. I'm not sure. Only time will tell.

I dream of a world where we allow ourselves to grieve the dead. A world where we realize the relationship changes into something new. A world where we surrender to the process we're undertaking and allow ourselves to be swept away, letting go of the old and embracing the new.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Bighearted

On Tuesday, I found out someone in one of my circles committed suicide. I didn't know him well; we had a total of three interactions, but his death shocked me and shook me. All week I found myself crying for someone I barely knew. Hurting because people I am closer to are hurting. It pains me to see others in pain.

All week I've battled with myself because my tears don't make much logical sense. Shawn and I talked about books. We didn't swap secrets and peer into each other's souls. How can I feel so sad about this death? In part it's because I lost a community member, but also it's because I'm empathic, sensitive, bighearted.

A heart so big it lights up the sky. Photo by Jamie Street on Unsplash

Growing up, I heard over and over again that I'm too sensitive, that I'm too emotional. I heard it so much I internalized it and now when I have big feelings, I judge myself for them. I want my emotions to match up to logic but oftentimes they do not. I realize sensitivity is a gift, but I still resist my feelings. I still want them to make sense, but they don't. My therapist and other people tell me over and over again, “Just feel them. You don't have to understand them. Just feel them.” Easier said than done. Easier said than done when feeling them means crying on the floor of my bedroom typing on my computer. Easier said than done when feeling them means sitting with the things I'm scared of instead of trying to talk myself out of feeling afraid.

When it comes down to it, I harbor a sense of shame about my sensitivity. I think there's something wrong with me that I feel so much, so deeply. That I “should” be able to toughen up, to grow a thicker skin, to somehow become a different person. Friends, I have tried! With much earnestness I've tried, and yet here we are. There are certain things about us that are immutable and I'm understanding my big heart is one of them. I'm doing a lot of work on self-soothing and becoming my own emotional rock, but that doesn't mean my feelings evaporate. All I'm left with is the choice to accept this is me, which is something I think Shawn would approve of.

Again, I didn't know him well, but I'm reading memories and tributes to Shawn all over facebook and one of the things people write over and over again is how seen they felt by him. How loved. How accepted. In his death, maybe that's something I can give to myself. I think he'd want that.

I dream of a world where we love and accept all parts of ourselves. A world where we feel our feelings even when they don't seem to make sense. A world where we understand sometimes our feelings won't match up with our brains. A world where we realize sensitivity is a gift and that it's OK to be bighearted.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Grace in Limitation

The other day in an email to my recovery mentor I wrote, “There is grace in limitation.” My eyes about bugged out of my head. I couldn't believe I wrote that because I'm all about freedom, innovation, and unencumbered roaming, yet as I typed it, I realized it's true.

From my perspective, U.S. culture lionizes pushing boundaries, tearing down walls, unhindered growth. All of that has its place, but so does maintaining boundaries, erecting walls, and hindered growth. I think about shoes. When my sister and I were little, we used to play dress up and wear our mother's shoes. We clattered around in her too-big high heels, but we couldn't competently walk in them. Her shoes contained too much space for our feet. In order to not trip over ourselves, we have to wear shoes that are only slightly bigger than our feet. We all need some limits.

I like the life within these shoes. Seems fitting for this post. Photo by Mika on Unsplash

Right now I'm living in the land of limits. My sleep is still terrible, my energy is still low. I'm possibly on a precipice of change but I don't know for sure. I'm still in limbo, waiting to find out. And instead of rebelling against my situation like I normally do, for this week anyway I'm recognizing there is grace here too.

The message to me right now seems to be, “It's OK to go slow. It's OK to rest. It's OK to take things easy, for life to be small.” I'm not zooming ahead. I'm not initiating new projects or learning new things. I'm sitting still and letting that be allowed.

I know I've mentioned this before, but my spiritual teacher characterizes movement as systaltic, like a heartbeat. A pulse. He said, “Now everything moves and that movement is of systaltic nature. Wherever there is any movement there is pulsation. Without pulsation there cannot be any movement. And this pulsation, that is movement through speed and pause, is an essential factor for each and every animate or inanimate object. Wherever there is existential factor there must be this pulsation. An entity acquires strength and stamina during the pause phase, and emanates vibration during the speed period. There cannot however, be any absolute speed or absolute pause in the created world.”

My takeaway from that is no matter what phase we're in – speed or pause – is natural, normal. There is no period that's wasted or bad or however else I sometimes think of the pause. The pause is just as crucial as the sprint because that's where strength and stamina are acquired. There is grace here. There is good here. There is God here.

I dream of a world where we remember all phases of life are natural and normal. A world where we recognize the good in pausing, in stopping, in waiting. A world where we realize pausing is a crucial part of life. A world where we realize there is grace in limitation.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

The World is Mostly Good

I feel vulnerable writing this post because the issue is alive in me. I haven't moved past it. I can't tie it up in a neat bow. I'm sharing though because this is the only topic that came to mind to write about, and also I know there are other people who feel the way I do. I'm hopeful my experience will help.

I am deeply unsettled by the murder of Nia Wilson from a few weeks ago. It speaks to one of my worst fears – a random act of violence. (I should mention here police don't know for sure it was random. It could have been racially motivated but the murderer didn't say one word to her or her sisters before attacking. Also, women of color experience higher rates of this kind of violence because the consequences are lower.) As for me, instead of viewing strangers as friends I haven't met yet, I view strangers as people who mean me harm. In public I am constantly on guard. And considering Nia was murdered while at a BART station that I frequent, I'm more fearful than usual.

A sweet picture that I hope conveys my sentiments. Photo by Ravi Roshan on Unsplash

My therapist suggested I acknowledge the fear and remind myself what I can control. I'm in control of my breath, of whether I eat or not. I'm in control of how clean I am, etc. It helps me to think about those things. It also helps to remind myself my perspective is skewed.

This weekend I attended the San Francisco Aerial Arts festival, which was glorious. I went by myself and rode public transportation all the way there and back. Doing so I realized the vast majority of people don't care about me one way or another. The vast majority are neutral. If I don't bother them, they won't bother me. Also at the performance, the sash from my trench coat trailed to the ground and a woman tapped me on the back to tell me so. She demonstrated to me while the vast majority of people are neutral, the remainder of people are good. They want to help. They care about complete strangers and will tell you if you drop something. And then a small minority of people wish me harm. Often it's not personal and I could easily be swapped out for someone else.

Am I still reeling from the random act of violence? Yes I am. Do I still want to barricade myself in my apartment? Yes I do. And I have to reconcile those feelings with another truth: The world is delightful. People dance on the side of buildings. People sing so well they move me to tears. People paint something that engrosses me for hours. The world is wonderful and terrible. It's beautiful and hideous. I wish that wasn't so but it is. All that I can do is what anyone can do, which is continuing to be a good person. To serve others where I can, to stand up for injustice, to sow love instead of hatred, and do my part to leave the world better than when I entered it.

I dream of a world where we remember the world is more good than it is bad. A world where we realize most people are neutral, and those that aren't are more likely good people than people who want to hurt us. A world where we help others according to our capacity.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Dream versus Delusion

I read an article in my university's alumni magazine the other day about Andre Ingram, who at 32 became a rookie for the LA Lakers. Reading his story I teared up because the whole thing seems so surreal, so unlikely.

Since he was 8, Andre dreamed of playing for the NBA. He played in high school and then at our university. Once he graduated, he toiled for years in the NBA's minor league. And I do mean toiled – he made $13,000 for the entire season in the minor leagues, which is less than what NBA players make for a couple of games. He tutored kids in math while his wife also worked. He says he thought about quitting several times, and some friends advised the same, or to find a better payday overseas. But he persisted.

This picture seemed appropriate. Photo by Patrick Fore on Unsplash

“Every time I was ready to jump off that ledge something pulled me back,” he said. “Whether it was in training, when I'm hitting every shot I take, or in the weight room getting encouraged by the guys. My story is to let that voice, let that encouragement, pull you back in.”

Andre is the oldest American rookie in the NBA since 1964. His story fascinates me because at what point does a person give up on their dream? Sometimes a dream is a delusion. We've all seen those auditions on TV where someone thinks they're an amazing singer or dancer and they have zero talent. To the rest of the world, it's obvious the person will never be a star, but they can't believe it. At what point is it harmful to keep believing a dream? At what point is it better to let it go? I don't have the answers to those questions. I'm sure many people told Andre it was unlikely he'd ever play in the NBA. A 32-year-old with gray hairs competing against people 10 years his junior? What are the odds he could share the court with them? But it happened.

What struck me the most about Andre's story is that quote I shared about how something kept pulling him back. Every time he wanted to quit, something kept him from doing it. That to me reeks of intuition, which my spiritual teacher defines as a reflection of consciousness or spirit. Just like a mirror, the reflection can become cloudy, but the more we connect to consciousness or spirit, the clearer the reflection will be.

Again, I don't have all the answers, but it seems to me if something keeps coming up over and over again, it's likely intuition. But if I get an idea in my head and convince myself it's true despite all evidence to the contrary, it's likely delusion. It seems to me there's a fine line between a dream and a delusion. Perhaps the joy of being human is figuring it out. Sometimes we're disappointed but sometimes we're ecstatic. The thrill is finding out which we'll experience.

I dream of a world where we walk the fine line between pursuing our dreams and dropping our delusions. A world where we keep going when something reels us back in. A world where we understand something may seem out of reach, but that doesn't always mean it is.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Celebration!

As of July 30, “Another World is Probable” is ten years old! I have written a post once a week nearly every week for TEN YEARS. When I started, I had no idea I would keep it up for that long. Nor did I think I'd have so much to say. It turns out when you write about yourself and the world around you, there is plenty of material.

I also have to admit many times I thought about discontinuing the blog because I wondered if anyone cared. Was anyone reading this thing? What has kept me going is hearing from readers and listeners. I'll be honest, in the past few years what's helped a lot is people who contribute to my patreon campaign or who donate via paypal. Because even if no one says anything via comments, emails, or facebook, at least I know some people find enough worth in what I have to say to donate money to me on a regular basis. Thank you for that. Thank you for reading. Thank you for listening. Thank you for telling me over the phone or in person how much something I wrote touched you. When I hear from you, I'm reminded why I started this blog in the first place, which was to spread hope, inspiration, and offer perspective. To that end, I thought it would be fun to share the first post I ever wrote. It's what follows:

If you watch the news today (or any day really) you would think the apocalypse is right around the corner. I don’t share this viewpoint because I am an optimist. Not only do I think the world has the potential to become a better place, it is a better place.

Ten years! Woohoo! Photo by rawpixel on Unsplash

When I was a child in the early 90’s, I was the only vegetarian in my entire school. Now vegetarianism is, dare I say it, fashionable. The reason I bring this up is because vegetarianism as a lifestyle is better for your health and for the environment, so the fact vegetarianism has become more popular is proof people are becoming more awake. It’s proof the world is becoming a better place because people are starting to understand we cannot continue as we have. People are becoming more open to alternatives that are better for them and for the world. And it’s not just the hippies in the big cities. Vegetarianism is growing even in Middle America. Food Lion, Giant, Safeway, and other big grocery stores are stocking meat alternatives. The natural-grocery giant Whole Foods is still growing and prospering.

Not only are more people starting to become vegetarian, but “going green” or trying to be environmentally friendly is all the rage. Project Runway just had an episode where the challenge was to use “green” fabrics or environmentally sustainable materials. Project Runway was nominated for an Emmy — it’s not some public access channel show. It’s mainstream. And it’s advocating being environmentally friendly!

I remember as a child my parents taught me about global warming, about how it’s necessary to reduce, reuse, and recycle. Roughly 15 years later, instead of still being a part of a fringe group, I find myself being in the majority. That’s incredible to me. Also, more and more grocery stores are stocking canvas bags people can reuse (perhaps all of them, I’m not sure, I haven’t been to every grocery store). And even though not everyone is using a canvas tote, the fact the totes exist is a cause for celebration. It means people are taking steps toward a better world. One where we are more aware of our actions, our choices, and our responsibilities toward one another. All of this inspires me.

When I look around I don’t see doom and gloom. I see hope and possibility and change. I see people starting to understand their actions have consequences, that what they do affects the world on a global scale. I’m starting to see more acceptance, more tolerance, more compassion. I’m starting to see that another world is not only possible, but it’s here.

What Goes Around Comes Around

Right now I'm editing a re-translation of a philosophy book for my yoga and meditation group. It's engrossing stuff (for me) because I'm curious about how the world works. I'm always interested in the “why” of everything and this book is answering many questions. One of the tenets, which is also a law of nature, is that for every action, there is an opposite and equal reaction. Something I find fascinating is the book talks about how inescapable that is.

My spiritual teacher says some people will pray to escape the consequences of their actions, or perform rituals to appeal to the gods, but it's not possible. All that can happen is a delay, like paying back a loan. You can set the terms for 18 months or three years, but the loan will be repaid. Also, for the purposes of this post I won't address miracles, like when a person was supposed to die but their life was saved. I'm speaking in general terms about how both good and bad, our actions have consequences.

Globes seemed like the perfect image to illustrate this post. Photo by Duangphorn Wiriya on Unsplash

In looking at our current president, I see life catching up to him. The noose is tightening around his neck, so to speak. The evidence continues to mount regarding Russia meddling with the U.S. election to place him into power. Trump is being exposed for all his wrongdoings like laundering money, assaulting women, etc. In some ways it seems like he's untouchable because we've known these things for years, and yet he remains not only free, but still in power. It boggles the mind, and personally, boils my blood.

I'm reminded here that what goes around comes around. One of the other things the philosophy book mentions is that not all consequences manifest during the lifetime in which they incurred, meaning sometimes they manifest in another life. However, no one is invulnerable. No one can escape their fate, no matter how many people they pay off.

I realize this post isn't very sunshine-y but that's where I'm at today, feeling somber. I'm thinking about how people, myself included, want to lie for self-preservation. How it's easier to say, “I didn't do that,” rather than admit the truth and deal with the repercussions. The repercussions aren't always fun, but they will catch up to us eventually. That's why my spiritual teacher cautions taking good actions. Good actions result in good consequences and bad actions result in bad consequences.

In the short term we may benefit from lying, cheating, and stealing, but in the long run we will not. I'm reminded of that quote from John Wesley who said, “Do all the good you can. By all the means you can. In all the ways you can. In all the places you can. At all the times you can. To all the people you can. As long as ever you can.” Words to live by.

I dream of a world where we realize our actions have consequences. A world where we understand we can't run away from repercussions. A world where we try our best to do all the good we can by all the means we can. A world where we remember what goes around comes around and we act accordingly.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.