Small but Mighty

Right now it's Hanukkah, which is a holiday I celebrate because I'm Jewish. There's a part of me that feels nervous publicly stating I'm Jewish given the current rise of antisemitism. But then I remind myself people already know I'm Jewish. I've never hidden that before so why would I start now? And in fact, that's precisely the story of Hanukkah.

Some people think of Hanukkah as the “Jewish Christmas” because hello, we live in a capitalistic culture so it's all about the gifts, right? Other people vaguely know Hanukkah as a celebration of oil lasting for eight days. That legend was tacked on later to make Hanukkah seem more miraculous. In actuality, Hanukkah is the celebration of people unifying against oppression and winning.

Judah and the Maccabees revolted against Syrian King Antiochus who enacted a series of harsh decrees against the Jews, including forcing them to give so much of their crops to the Syrian ruling class, the Jews had trouble feeding their families. Jewish worship was forbidden; scrolls were confiscated and burned. Sabbath and the dietary laws were prohibited under penalty of death. The small group of Jewish rebels fought against an army of thousands of men and won. How did they win? According to my rabbi, Michael Lerner, they won in part because they believed there is something about the universe that makes such struggles winnable.

In case you didn't know, this image shows a dreidel. It's used in a game Jews play on Hanukkah. Photo by Robert Zunikoff on Unsplash

In a Hanukkah message, he wrote that “something,” that force, is celebrated when we light candles for Hanukkah or when Christians light candles for Christmas.

“Hanukkah is not just about having a response to the consumption craze around Christmas, it is about affirming a different worldview, a hopeful worldview. [It's] about replacing cultures of domination with a culture of love and justice,” Rabbi Lerner wrote. “[Hanukkah is also about] recognizing that alternative is not yet fully articulated in the Jewish world and needs all of us to make it clearer not only to the larger world, but to our own communities, synagogues, and Jewish organizations.”

This Hanukkah I'm reminded of what it means to be Jewish: to struggle and to overcome. To be a minority fighting for justice. To join other minorities in doing the same. This Hanukkah I'm also reminded we can win. It seems grim or even impossible that we can wrest power from the wealthy elite hellbent on destroying us all for their own gain. It seems daunting to dismantle racism, sexism, homophobia, and other prejudice, but it can be done. A small but mighty few can accomplish just that.

To paraphrase my spiritual teacher, the strength of five good people is more than the united strength of a hundred immoral people. It also echoes the famous Margaret Mead quote: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.” Let's continue to be thoughtful, committed, organized citizens changing the world. Let's remember battles that seemed unwinnable have been won, and in fact, that's what Jews across the world are currently celebrating.

I dream of a world where we recognize there is a transformative force in the universe that makes liberation possible. A world where we recognize a small but mighty group of organized people can overthrow authoritarian regimes. A world where we band together, letting our collective light shine and say “no” to the people who try to keep us down.

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

Mining for Gold

As you know, we're rounding the bend on 2019. Where did the year go? I know there's that 10-year challenge floating around social media but I can't contemplate that we're about to enter a new decade because I'm pretty sure my mind will explode. No, I'm only thinking about this year and I've cried a couple of times this week because 2019 is not at all what I expected; nor did I accomplish what I thought I would.

I remember starting off this year feeling buoyant and enthused as I flew back from LA to the Bay Area, the sun peeking through the clouds. I took it as a good omen, that the universe shared in my optimism. This year I looked forward to financial abundance, to possibly dating again, and also finishing my novel. None of those things happened. Instead this year was like landing in a new city only to be greeted by wildfire smoke – something unanticipated and I didn't even know I should check for. (That actually happened to me by the way.)

Not quite what I was looking for, but it works! Photo by Steve Halama on Unsplash

This year my accomplishments cannot be enumerated. They are more of the internal variety: setting boundaries with toxic people, demanding what I'm owed, determining what I'm worth, etc. They cannot be shared at a holiday party – except for the fact I started my own business. That I'm telling to everyone who will listen. So yeah. I'm disappointed about this year. I'm literally crying about the gap between my dreams and my reality.

This is the point where I'm probably supposed to talk about how dreams can be deferred, about how things can change on a dime, about how there's still time as long as I'm alive. All of that is true, and I don't want to gloss over the grief. There's nothing to fix here. There's nothing to change. This year was what it was. I showed up like a champ for the challenges life presented me and that's also something to celebrate. Was it a good year? No, but it also wasn't a bad one. It was a year. An exciting, boring, happy, sad, easy, hard, wonderful, terrible year.

What comes to mind right now is a concept underpinning my last couple of posts: surrender. My spiritual teacher says suppose Cosmic Consciousness wants you to become even greater than what you are praying to become. What if Cosmic Consciousness finds greater potential in you than you're aware of? The best thing to do is surrender completely, to be a conduit instead.

This year has felt like that to me – and also that I'm getting polished. All the things I learned this year, all the things I endured, have been necessary to create an even better version of me. I would have been content with not learning hard lessons, with not undergoing hardship, but then I wouldn't be where I am now – able to protect myself, to take care of myself, and not let anyone thwart me, including me. So maybe I've accomplished what I wanted this year after all.

I dream of a world where we mine for gold in the darkness of our lives. A world where we recognize a year can be both good and bad, even if didn't go according to plan. A world where we let go of internal “shoulds” and instead embrace what's here, recognizing maybe we accomplished more than we thought at first glance.

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

Creative Envy

This past week was stressful and exhausting. I didn't have the energy to write a new post, but when I searched for one to share again, this one from December 2017 came to mind. Enjoy.

I envy other people's success. Not in a mean or spiteful way – I don't begrudge people their accolades, I think they deserve them – rather a part of me burns with yearning to have what they have. I've tried all the things I can think of to deal with envy – feeling it fully, using it as fuel for my own work, seeing it as an example of what's possible, etc., but nothing has made a lasting difference.

This week the green-eyed monster struck again and I sincerely asked the universe for help. I don't like feeling envious, it's not something I enjoy, or how I'd like to respond to the success of others. The universe stepped in, as it always does, and I contemplated a prayer I say every morning. Specifically, that I act as an instrument for my higher power, that I may be of service to others, and that I'd like to be used as my higher power sees fit. This week it occurred to me my creative endeavors also apply.

Photo by russn_fckr on Unsplash. 

On some level I already know this and it's the main reason I have this blog, to use my words in service of others. I already believe my role as an artist is to establish a link between the finite and infinite, the mundane and the transcendental. In terms of creativity, it means I'm working with something more than me. Talk to any artist and they'll tell you at some time or another it felt like they were channeling something, that something moved through them. Indeed, Elizabeth Gilbert has a mega-popular video on creativity saying exactly that. If that's true, and I believe it is, it means I'm an instrument for my higher power. I'm the violin, not the violinist.

When I look at envy from this perspective, it means I'm not to blame for any success or failure. I'm the violin, I'm not in control of the music the violinist plays, nor am I in control of how well the music is received. I don't know why certain things are popular and others languish in obscurity, but also I don't know the mind of God. However, I've experienced enough synchronicity in my life to know I am a piece on God's chessboard, that there is a greater intelligence at work. That means art too. It means perhaps certain things I write are supposed to reach a small number of people, and that's it. I want to write a wildly popular book that lands me on the New York Times bestseller list, a segment with Oprah, and a prestigious award, but maybe every book has its own purpose and trajectory, and sometimes that means only six people will read it.

Envy pops up when my ego has gotten the best of me and I start thinking about my plans instead of the universe's plans. Envy pops up when I think of myself as the violinist, not the violin. I have to take certain actions, I have to keep my instrument clean and my strings taut, so to speak, but the rest? It's not up to me. Almost every successful person talks about a “lucky break,” being in the right place at the right time. I don't think it's luck, I think it's grace, and that's something I can't manufacture no matter how hard I try. Nor am I supposed to. I'm the violin, allowing myself to be played, not the violinist.

I dream of a world where we realize we are not solely responsible for our creative successes or failures. A world where we recognize we are instruments for something greater than ourselves. A world where we take our egos out of the equation and merely allow ourselves to be played.

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

Milestones

Depending on when you're reading this, today is my 35th birthday. It's weird and surreal and feels like more of a milestone than turning 30. A lot of it has to do with the fact my mother had me when she was 35 and I am nowhere near that place in life. So much is still up in the air for me and a part of me feels grief about that.

At the same time, a friend reflected, "Yeah but when you thought about what life would be like at 35 you didn't have enough information." Meaning, when I dreamed up my life at 35, I didn't factor in a sleep disorder that would rob me of rest for seven years. Nor did I take into account other health issues that would keep me from being able to accomplish the things I planned. So really, aren't I right where I'm supposed to be? Given all the things I've been through, aren't I doing a great job?

Seemed appropriate. Photo by Colton Brown on Unsplash

I don't own a house, but I have an apartment I love. I'm not married, but I'm committed to myself. I don't have kids, but I'm the beloved auntie of many children. Are things really so bad? All day my phone has buzzed with telephone calls and text messages from people wishing me happy birthday. I love and am loved and isn't that what matters most anyway?

An excerpt of Barbara Crooker's poem "In the Middle" seems appropriate here:

Time is always ahead of us, running down the beach, urging
us on faster, but sometimes we take off our watches,
sometimes we lie in the hammock, caught between the mesh
of rope and the net of stars, suspended, tangled up
in love, running out of time.

Running out of time -- how true. I feel that acutely because very recently a dear family friend died. I'm reminded birthdays are not promised. They are not foregone conclusions. Many people don't make it to 35, or 34, or 33. Truly every birthday is a milestone. Shivi's death also has me asking, how I can accept the things in my life with grace? He had ALS so his death was expected and when I saw him last, he seemed at peace with it. He wasn't bitter or resentful about dying. He accepted the fact of his life and still managed to be there for the people around him. He exuded love and care right until the end.

I'm crying as I type this because I loved Shivi so much and he is a great example of embracing life as it is. Not always, not in every moment -- he was human after all -- but he flowed with life. As I get older I recognize the importance of doing the same. This past year especially threw me many, many curveballs but I'm still here. I'm going where the water is warm, so to speak, I'm accepting the direction my life is taking me, and I'm letting go of preconceived notions because who can predict anything anyway? If I've learned anything in 35 years it's that.

I dream of a world where we let go of preconceived notions. A world where we accept what is. A world where we feel gratitude for the present moment, even if it's not what we anticipated. A world where we can accept each day, each year as a milestone.

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

Maybe We Don't Need to Know

Something strange happened to me on Thursday. In the afternoon I heard a helicopter circling and peered out my window to identify its location. When I looked out my bedroom window, I spotted not only the helicopter above me, but also a swarm of police cars on the street behind my house. I'm on a hill so the cars were not directly behind me but I could still see them.

I jumped on Twitter and used all the hashtags that came to mind to determine why police cars and a helicopter parked near my house. I googled local news and even called the police nonemergency number. After waiting on hold for nearly 10 minutes I hung up. I couldn't find an answer to my question. I thought about walking up to a police officer and asking about the fuss, but then I questioned that. "Do you really need to know? Maybe it's better if you don't."

Does this person need to know what they're walking on or is it better if they don't, being a sewer and all? Photo by Warren Wong on Unsplash

Confession, although I suspect you already guessed this about me, I don't watch true crime. I'm not a Law and Order junkie, or a CSI fanatic. I don't enjoy murders and murder mysteries because I'm too sensitive. That means my brain doesn't come up with gruesome scenarios, and let's be honest, reality is much grimmer than my personal imagination. Some of the things people do to one another would never occur to me. But if there are police cars and a helicopter involved, the situation is probably not because someone accumulated parking tickets. Do I need to know that person lives nearby? I do not. (Note: If your google search is more fruitful than mine, please don't tell me why the police visited my neighborhood unless it is for something innocuous like littering.)

This perspective is a huge shift for me because I want to know everything. My brain tells me I'll be safer if I know all the details. But is that really true? Does knowing about a murder in Omaha make me safer here in Oakland? Or does it only succeed in making me scared to go to Omaha? All weekend I've wrestled with this, itching to check Twitter to find out what happened on Thursday. I resist because once I learn something, that information cannot be unlearned. It's like trying to suck toothpaste back into a tube.

What also comes to mind is the converse of what I've shared: If I need to know something, I will. My higher power will arrange things so I find out information. I'll run into someone at a party, I'll overhear a conversation on the street, etc. I searched for a quote here from my spiritual teacher to throw in and came across this one: "[T]he source of physical knowledge is bound up by time, space, and person. With the change of time, space, and person, physical knowledge will change. Hence it is not a permanent knowledge."

I derive comfort from that quote because it means even if someone awful lives behind me now, it doesn't mean they always will. Maybe knowledge, like safety, is a snapshot in time. And if it's a snapshot in time, what's the point in scaring myself right now?

I dream of a world where we recognize sometimes it's better to stay in the dark. A world where we realize if we're meant to know something, we will. A world where we understand sometimes we don't need to know.

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

Cosmic Arrogance

For the past few weeks I've been thinking about self-confidence and what I believe I'm capable of. At this point I'm paying attention to the universe and noticing over and over this year I'm making money from contract gigs and freelance assignments. Every full-time (or even part-time!) job I've applied for has rejected me. But the random contract gigs and freelance assignments keep rolling in.

I haven't ruled out getting a regular job, but I've also decided to pursue my own business. I'm actively searching for individuals and small businesses that need blogposts, which I can write as myself, or I can ghostwrite them. (Ghostwriting means I capture the person's voice, do all of the writing for them, but someone else is listed as the author of the piece.) You can check out my website for more information.

Seemed appropriate given the title. Photo by Free Nature Stock on Unsplash

All of this is a preamble to say I teeter on the edge of confidence and insecurity with this new venture. In some moments I exclaim, "I can do this! I'm talented! I got this!" and in others I moan, "Who am I to start a business? I'm talented but will anyone pay me what I'm worth? I'm not sure I can do this." It has me thinking about humility. The word humility gets a bad rap and is often associated with humiliation or low self-esteem, but the way my recovery programs present humility is "simply an awareness of who we really are today and a willingness to become all that we can be. Genuine humility brings an end to feelings of inadequacy, the self-absorption, and the status-seeking."

What I'm coming to is isn't it a kind of cosmic arrogance to think I can't do something if all signs are pointing toward yes, I can? Isn't it thumbing my nose at the universe to keep declining something, to choose to keep playing small because of a notion of who think I am? I guess you could say I have a bit of an inferiority complex.

Related to this topic, Indian philosopher, poet, and linguist P.R. Sarkar said neohumanism is a philosophy that will "make people understand that they are not merely ordinary creatures. This philosophy will liberate them from all inferiority feelings and defects, and make them aware of their own importance; it will inspire them to build a new world."

I identify as a neohumanist and that means I'm not ordinary, and neither are you. None of us are. It also means that something divine is working through me, that I'm used as a channel or a conduit. Who am I to say, "No, that can't come through me"? To be human, it seems to me, requires surrender, letting go, and accepting what is. And sometimes that's different and bigger than what I imagined.

I dream of a world where we practice true humility, which is an awareness of who we are and a willingness to become all we can be. A world where we accept and surrender to what the universe desires to express through us. A world where we accept sometimes the universe wants more for us than we want for ourselves, and in those cases we are still fully equipped to handle it.

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

Whose Bliss?

I feel drained from this weekend so I didn't write a new post, but this question keeps coming to mind: "How do I know if I'm on the right path?" There have been a few times in the past I felt sure I knew what to do and that doors would swing open for me. However, they stayed firmly shut. Does that mean I wasn't truly following my bliss? Or rather that my bliss hadn't been refined yet? With all that in mind, I'm resharing a post from March 2018.

The other day a friend told me he asks people, "How do you know your bliss is the right one?" in response to the slogan "follow your bliss." When he said that to me, I exhaled deeply. I've heard variations of "follow your bliss" such as "follow your bliss and the money will come" for years and it filled me with rancor. I published a book and started a publishing company and the money did not follow. Life didn't become all sunshine and roses. In fact, the years since my book came out have been some of the hardest of my life. To recap, I moved a jillion times, my health deteriorated, my finances took a nose dive, and more. I did not receive either the internal or external promised riches.

Normally I get pissed off like a child who did exactly as she was asked and didn't receive her reward. Where is my gold star? Why don't I have what I'm "supposed" to? I also usually start to look at other people's lives and say, "They followed their bliss and got what they wanted. Why didn't it happen for me?" It's a resentment filled adventure for sure.

I would like to see something like this all the time, thanks. Photo by Kevin Noble on Unsplash

When I ponder that "my" bliss isn't the right one, I feel better. Perhaps "my" bliss is ego driven and self-centered. Perhaps the bliss I'm following will lead me to a place I ultimately don't want to go. Maybe I don't know what's best for me and maybe I don't know what "my" bliss is.

I am strong believer in a power greater than myself. I've seen over and over again that I'm guided. And if that's true, that means there's something doing the guiding, and more often than not, that "something" knows better and knows more than I do, which also relates to how I pray. My prayer is a variation of, "I don't know what's best for me universe. Only you know what's best for me. I want what you want for me. Please align my will with yours." I think bliss is like that. If I had it my way, I'd live a super cushy life without any drama, with money flowing in due to little effort on my part, seeing beautiful things every day, and eating decadent food. That sounds lovely, but it also means I wouldn't confront any of my issues; I wouldn't deal with any of my demons.

In the same conversation with my friend, I told him I can't suppress anything and because that's true, I'd rather confront my issues head on. Confronting my issues has made me a better person and a happier person. I don't feel nearly as anxious as I used to and that's a direct result of bringing my demons out of the shadows and into the light. That leads me to believe that perhaps my higher power is thinking of my long-term happiness and bliss rather than a short-term gain. Perhaps real bliss then is not mine, but what my higher power wants and I'd feel happier if I aligned my will accordingly. It's difficult for me to maintain that perspective, but it seems worth a shot. After all, I'd much rather feel happier for a longer period of time than a shorter one.

I dream of a world where we realize sometimes our bliss takes us places that don’t serve us. A world where we understand there's a difference between the bliss we aim for and the bliss our higher power wants for us. A world where we understand whose bliss will ultimately lead us where we want to go.

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

Becoming the Ocean

The other day I shared a poem by Khalil Gibran on Facebook titled "Fear." I'm sharing it again here because it's relevant to my life right now:

It is said that before entering the sea
a river trembles with fear.

She looks back at the path she has traveled,
from the peaks of the mountains,
the long winding road crossing forests and villages.

And in front of her,
she sees an ocean so vast,
that to enter
there seems nothing more than to disappear forever.

But there is no other way.
The river cannot go back.

Nobody can go back.
To go back is impossible in existence.

The river needs to take the risk
of entering the ocean
because only then will fear disappear,
because that’s where the river will know
it’s not about disappearing into the ocean,
but of becoming the ocean.

I am that river right now. I'm traveling through mountain peaks and crossing forests. The current of life is moving me along in a direction that excites me and scares me. I'm progressing toward something I didn't anticipate and for many years said I never wanted, yet here I am, traveling down this path. I want to run away, to turn back and go in the other direction, but like the river, I cannot. Too much momentum has built up. Will I change course? Possibly, but eventually I'll still enter the ocean, become the ocean. It's inevitable one way or another.

It all leads to this. Photo by Mathew Waters on Unsplash

I'm speaking in metaphors but that's because I'm not ready to talk about what I'm going through publicly yet. A part of me doesn't want to fully commit to this path and telling people what I'm doing means just that. Also, so much changes so quickly for me these days. The river current is rough and filled with rapids at the moment. I don't know how things will shake out.

And yet, there's something about becoming the ocean that speaks to me. When I look at what I'm going through, it feels like I'm becoming my truest self. I'm becoming the self I was always meant to be, which is lovely. Also, there's the spiritual level of becoming the ocean.

My spiritual teacher often uses the metaphor of a river and the ocean to talk about the spiritual journey we're on. How we're flowing back to the ocean and becoming the ocean. In essence, we're returning to Cosmic Consciousness and merging with it.

Sometimes the journey is fast and sometimes it's slow, but it's inevitable according to my spiritual philosophy. There's something comforting for me about knowing the general path is laid out, that even if this river changes course, eventually I'll still wind up in the same place: the ocean.

I don't know if this post is making much sense, but I want to close with saying we are each becoming more fully our true selves. We are learning and growing and changing. The process can be scary at times, we may be wending our way through the dark, but we're heading somewhere amazing and becoming who we're meant to be.

I dream of a world where we realize our greatness. A world where we flow with the current of life. A world where we understand sometimes there comes a point where we can't turn back and all that's left is to keep going. A world where we become the ocean.

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

Coming to Light

Right now, all over the world people are celebrating Diipavali or Diwali, a festival of lights that symbolizes the spiritual victory of light over darkness, good over evil, and knowledge over ignorance. There’s something interesting for me about how Diipavali is coinciding with the fires in California. I know October is a dry month for California so it’s no surprise my beloved state is on fire, but there’s something especially poignant about the timing of it all.

What I mean is it’s coming to light, pun intended, that Pacific Gas and Electric, the utility company in northern California, is responsible for the blazes raging both currently and last year. Last year an entire town, Paradise, burned to the ground due to PG&E’s negligence, and prompted the company to file for bankruptcy. The utility company has known about the trouble with its equipment for decades and didn’t upgrade it. It’s only now that we can pin the blame squarely on PG&E’s shoulders that something is being done about it.

One candle may kindle another to drive out darkness. Photo by Nishta Sharma on Unsplash

What I’m seeing over and over again is corruption floating to the surface. Secrets are emerging, we’re shining a spotlight in the dark corners, and watching cockroaches scuttle away. Not only with PG&E, but with the impeachment inquiry as well. Shady practices that Trump engaged in are emerging and the majority of us are saying, “No. This is not OK.”

However, unlike with Diipavali where good has triumphed over evil, I don’t think we’re there yet. Instead, we’re in the day before Diipavali, metaphorically speaking. The day before the festival is supposed to be the darkest day of the year when it seems like light will never win. It’s a question I’ve been asking myself lately. I cannot express how angry I am at PG&E, as well as the behavior of corrupt politicians and CEOs. I want to shake everyone by the shoulders and say, “No, no, no! You can’t do this!”

I’m pretty sure I’m not alone here. I notice a swell of anger and frustration erupting but where is it supposed to go? What are we supposed to do? Some are taking to the streets. Others are writing petitions or conversing with elected officials. I’m doing the same but it doesn’t feel like enough. And then I think about Diipavali. The word comes from dīpa, which means lamp or light, and āvali, which means a row, a range, continuous line, series. Essentially a lot of little lights can conquer darkness. One by one by one our actions add up to something bright and Diipavali reminds me of that.

I dream of a world where we have faith light drives out darkness. A world where we believe good conquers evil. A world where we remember our little actions coalesce into something bigger than us and creates a better world for all of us.

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

Looking for Mirrors

The other day I noticed an Instagram influencer with millions of followers and she has messages like: "This is where your excuses come to die" and "Don't let anything stop you." I started wondering, why are these messages so popular? Why does this woman have so many followers? And then it occurred to me, we're all looking for mirrors, metaphorically speaking.

What I mean is we seek people, situations, experiences, perspectives, etc. that reflect our insides in order to feel safe. If I think I'm a piece of crap and completely unlovable, then I'll be in relationship with people who convey those messages to me through words and actions. If I believe I'm amazing, then I'll be in relationship with people who convey those messages to me through words and actions.

We want our outsides to match our insides. Photo by Ashim D’Silva on Unsplash

What does this have to do with safety? If something doesn't fit into our worldview, it's threatening. To go back to my earlier example, if I think I'm a piece of crap, having someone tell me otherwise will lead to suspicion. "What's wrong with this person if they think I'm great?" or another common thought is, "If they only knew the real me, they wouldn't believe I'm so great." Eventually I'd stop hanging out with that person because hearing I'm awesome would be too triggering. It would then be easy to think my relationships are so terrible because other people are the problem, when in reality the world is merely reflecting what I'm projecting.

Why am I bringing this up? I'm bringing it up because it's easy to believe life is better when something external changes, and that's true, the external is important, but how many of us are working on our insides? How many of us recognize the connection between our inner world and our outer world?

According to the spiritual philosophy I align with, everything is a thought projection of Cosmic Consciousness. That means nothing is external and everything is internal. It then follows how and why the same is true for the individual -- that my internal world gets reflected externally. I understand not everyone will jive with that philosophy, and that's fine. The point I'm trying to make -- and perhaps awkwardly because I'm still sick -- is that there's no difference between the internal and external. What we feel, we project and we seek out. We are all looking for mirrors.

I dream of a world where we understand in order to change our experience of the world we must change our internal reality. A world where we realize oftentimes the external won't change until the internal does. A world where we realize we are all looking for mirrors.

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

Seeing What Is

I'm sick right now and didn't feel well enough to write a new post or record any audio. The post that came to mind to recycle is from my birthday nearly six years ago. Enjoy! And just in case it wasn't clear, I'm grateful for you. <3 em="">

Today is my 29th birthday, that is, if you're reading this on December 1st. It's been a less than stellar day because I had to work from 8:30 to 4:30, I'm still experiencing pain from the car accident, and I'm not having a big party. Suffice to say, today has not turned out the way I expected. The challenge for me is to find the good in what is.

I think we all have expectations of certain days -- birthdays, holidays, graduation, first dates, etc. -- and when those expectations aren't met we're left feeling disappointed. I know I am. However, even though today hasn't gone the way I'd hoped and I'm not feeling the buzz I normally do on my birthday, there's been a lot of good about today too. I've received numerous telephone calls, text messages, and facebook posts from friends near and far wishing me well. My mom is at this moment making me a delicious dinner. There's a lot of love for me in this world and today is the day I get to bask in it.

It's my birthday! Here are some pretty cupcakes. 

What's awesome is I spoke to a friend on the phone and I mentioned that if I was in Chicago like I normally am at this time of year to cover a conference, I'd still be celebrating my birthday with family because my sister lives there. Hearing myself say that I was taken aback because I'm so lucky, I'm so loved, I have a lot of community all over the world, which is amazing.

I'm telling you all this not to brag, but because I'm sincerely grateful. Sometimes gratitude becomes dry as I reel off all the things I'm grateful for like heat and food and a roof over my head because I list those things every day. If something occurs every day it becomes mundane, ordinary, common -- at least it does for me. So when something doesn't go the way I expect, it's even more important for me to find the good about what is. What's good about the here and now? What's true? When I do that I can genuinely pull the feeling of gratitude into my heart because I am grateful for my friends and family, I am grateful so many people are wishing me happy birthday, and I am grateful I chose to come into this world on this day. Thank you for being with me on my journey.

I dream of a world where even in sucky situations we can find something good about what is. A world where we all feel genuinely grateful for something. A world where we not only accept what is, but we find something positive about it.

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

Choosing faith

It's no secret I'm not doing all that well. Applying for jobs is one of the most demoralizing things a person can do, in my opinion. It's really getting to me. Not in the sense that I'm questioning my own worth and merit -- I know I'm talented and I'm clear I'd be an asset to any company. What's getting to me is the uncertainty. The question mark of when this will all be over.

People keep telling me, "You'll get a job," but no one can say, "You'll get a job in the next month" because nobody knows. It's hard to keep putting in effort without seeing payoff. The amount of effort I'm making doesn't translate into results. It's not like going to the gym after a couple of weeks and starting to see muscle definition. No. Instead the job thing is more random and haphazard, which is the opposite of my preference. What am I supposed to do here, other than what I already am, which is applying for jobs, writing cover letters, asking for help, networking, etc.? After much struggle, the answer I came to is: Have faith.

This is what faith is like for me -- light in the darkness. Photo by Josh Boot on Unsplash. 

"Having faith" is difficult for me. It's such a trite phrase we throw around but what does it actually mean? This weekend I realized I expect faith to be rational. I want it to be scientific and evidence-based. I want proof before I'll believe. Not getting any interviews right now? Then why should I believe I will in the future? This cautionary sort of faith and trust in my higher power is not working for me. It's sinking me into a depression, a place where hope disintegrates. It's pessimistic and it's dark. But here's the thing about faith: it's not rational or scientific or evidence-based. Faith is the opposite of all those things. It's belief without proof. That's not just my definition; the dictionary defines faith in the same way.

What does that mean for me? It means I have to actively, consciously, choose to believe my life will change, that I'll have a steady job again. It means I have to choose to put my trust in the universe that things will get better for me. It means I have to fight against pessimism and hold fast to something else, which is also a part of the meditation I practice.

A Sanskrit phrase for meditation is Iishvara prańidhána, or seeking shelter in the Supreme. My spiritual teacher says, "Iishvara prańidhána also implies implicit faith in [the divine] irrespective of whether one lives in momentary happiness or sorrow, prosperity or adversity."

Easier said than done my friends. Easier said than done. I don't live in implicit faith, obviously, but the alternative is becoming too painful. My way isn't working so it's time to try something new. For me that means choosing faith. It's scary and uncomfortable and doesn't feel at all rational, but it's not supposed to. That's what faith is -- belief without proof. And right now, faith is what's getting me through.

I dream of a world where we choose faith even when it seems ridiculous, even when our rational brain says we shouldn't. A world where we put our trust in something greater than ourselves. A world where we understand faith isn't a passive thing but instead something active and conscious. A world where faith is what sees us through.

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

The Beauty in the Climate Tragedy

What with the recent Climate Strike, Greta Thunberg's speech at the UN, and the news in general, climate change has been on my mind. Jonathan Franzen wrote an article recently about a new kind of climate change denialism, which is denying how bad things will likely get. He says, "The climate apocalypse is coming. To prepare for it, we need to admit that we can't prevent it."

Franzen's essay elicited a lot of ire for multiple reasons. Climate scientists refuted his claims of doom and gloom, and others pointed out the sexism and racism in giving a novelist room to write about climate change as opposed to others who are experts in the field. As for me, I'm teetering on the edge of doom and gloom. I'm thrilled about the passion we're seeing from youth especially. I'm excited that friends of mine are becoming vegan or vegetarian. It's incredible to see all the changes people are making. And at the same time, we're already experiencing the effects of climate change.

Could some beauty come from all this? Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash

That's not news to most people, but I'm repeating it now because there is a sense of loss, of mourning. The world is different now than it was 10 years ago. We're undergoing another mass extinction. Am I crying about it? Yes I am. And at the same time a different perspective is arising.

I think about how dinosaurs used to roam this Earth and then became extinct. Their extinction paved the way for me, for us. Could the same be true for climate change? Please don't misunderstand, I'm not saying we should move full steam ahead and kill everything because by doing so a new creature will appear. Nor am I saying people should continue to feed every greedy impulse and use up all the planet's natural resources. But what I am wondering is perhaps whether good can come from doom. That the changes we're experiencing on the planet are real and terrible; that many people will die and suffer, and maybe we'll move into a new era. One that's more thoughtful, more equitable, more cooperative because we've learned we literally cannot live any other way.

My spiritual teacher has said in passing that eventually blue eyes will become extinct. As someone with blue-green eyes that gives me a pang, and it demonstrates to me extinction is built into existence. Eventually maybe everything goes extinct. I don’t want to speed the process along by any means, but it has me wonder about the divine intelligence at play. What if I could mourn the planet, fight like hell to save it, and at the same time believe something beautiful could rise from the rubble? Even saying that right now, I feel more hope and less fear, and that's a great place for me to be.

I dream of a world where we act as stewards of the planet, caring for it as best we can. A world where we recognize that change is sad and scary but also inevitable. A world where we grasp that something beautiful can come from something tragic.

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

Stronger than We Seem

It's ironic the title of this post is "Stronger than We Seem" when right now I feel weak. Subsisting off of powder and water will do that to a gal. However, when I looked through old blog posts to recycle, this is the one that jumped out at me. A lot has changed since I wrote it in September 2017, but the message is still a relevant one. No audio because I couldn't manage it.

“You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than you think, and loved more than you know.” – A.A. Milne

It seems to me right now we're all being called to become our best selves. We're being asked to stretch and grow in ways that are uncomfortable and unfamiliar. Milne's quote reminds me so often I sell myself short and there is more courage, strength, intelligence, and love within me than I acknowledge.

There is some not-fun stuff going on in the world, as per usual, and the challenge for us is to rise to the occasion. For me personally, that means getting in touch with my inner power. Often I want other people to do the heavy lifting in my life. I want them to “fix me,” to “make me better,” to “have all of the answers,” or in some way allow me to play the damsel in distress. The place this shows up the most is with my health.

There's more beneath the surface. Photo by Muhammad Shahzad on Unsplash.

I'm writing a long facebook note about everything my chronic illness has taught me, but for the purposes of this post I want to focus on empowerment. The dynamic that has shown up with my health is I approach doctors and healers not as partners in my path to wellness, not as people who help me to heal myself, but rather as wizards who will magically cure me without any effort on my part. I realize awe-inspiring stories of magical healing happen every day, and I so wish I could be one of those people, but thus far the universe has said to me, “Nah gurl, you gotta be your own hero and rescue yourself.”

I came to this conclusion after literally trying all the things Western and Eastern to heal my physical body and not seeing much in the way of results. A friend of mine posted about a book called Energy Medicine on Instagram and even seeing the title sparked curiosity within me to explore deeper. After the eclipse, an intense and passionate desire bubbled up within me to start reading the book. It's a synthesis of all the modalities I have familiarity with – acupressure, energy meridians, chakras – and describes them in a practical way. The book explains why certain spots on my body are tender, or why I instinctively cradle my stomach. More importantly though, it's empowering me to heal myself.

It's early days, but even if I don't see the results I'd like, it seems like a valuable lesson to remember I have power and magic within me. That I am capable of more than I think I am. That I don't have to outsource everything to other people. This post is all about me, but the principle applies to the broader society as well. How many of us think what's happening is “someone else's” problem? Or that “someone else” will take charge? And how much of that is based on insecurity or inferiority?

My spiritual teacher says over and over again, “You should behave with every created being, every human being, in such a way that neither a superiority complex nor an inferiority complex develops in you, or in those with whom you interact. ... A person must not suffer from an inferiority complex, because that person and his or her friends and siblings are all the progeny of the same Progenitor. They come from the same origin.”

That means I'm just as capable as anyone else. That means the same power within others is also within me. And vice versa.

I dream of a world where we recognize we all have inner power and strength. A world where we remember no one is superior or inferior to us. A world where we realize we are braver than we believe, stronger than we seem, and smarter than we think.

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

At Peace with the Inevitable

Certain things in my life feel inevitable. What's going on with my diet right now feels like one of them. Some of you know I have a long list of food allergies that keeps getting longer. The frustrating part for me is if I eat something frequently enough, I become allergic to it.

The other week I noticed when I eat figs, now my mouth burns. Never mind that I've eaten figs for YEARS without any problem. Suddenly, they're a problem. If you know anything about health, you might be saying, "It's sound like you have leaky gut." You would be correct. However, following the leaky gut diet (i.e., no gluten, cutting out carbs, low sugar, etc.) hasn't made a lick of difference and in fact I'm only getting worse.

Yeah, not eating any of this right now. Photo by Waranya Mooldee on Unsplash

I called my doctor in frustration and she recommended the Elemental Diet. The Elemental Diet is food broken down into its most elemental form. It's a powdered meal replacement. It's something physicians give to patients with Crohn's disease and to recovering anorexics, among others. The recommended procedure is to eat only the powder mixed with water for two to three weeks to give the digestive system a break. That means no solid food. I cried when my doctor suggested the regimen and also freaked out, worrying that I'd feel hungry. It's only been a couple of days, but surprisingly, I feel good. My body doesn't hurt after eating. The powder is filling. My mood has improved. Will I do this for three weeks? I don't know -- it's one meal at a time for me right now.

What's interesting is in my yoga and meditation group we're supposed to fast 11 days after the full and new moon. Concessions are made for people who don't have good health, but if someone can fast, they are encouraged to do so. And fasting runs the gamut from consuming absolutely nothing, including no water, to merely abstaining from rice and fried foods. The reason fasting is encouraged is it gives the body a break and also the time spent eating, cleaning, and prepping can be used for spiritual pursuits. I'm finding the same is true for me. Thus far, I'm meditating more and feeling closer to my higher power.

The reason why this whole thing feels inevitable is I'm finally engaging in a practice that is a big part of my spiritual tradition. My life is oriented around spirituality, around moving closer to something bigger than myself, and fasting is allowing me to do that. It feels like I would always end up here. That I would always see the benefit of fasting for my body, mind, and spirit. Because as I've seen with other practices, like yoga, eventually something happens to get me to come around. I'm not sure I'm doing a great job explaining myself, but that's OK. For me and for everyone there are certain things in our lives that feel inevitable, and that's what I'm speaking to.

I dream of a world where we accept the inescapability of certain things. A world where we recognize we were always going to end up someplace or doing something specific. That there are some things we can't fight and instead we give in to them. A world where we feel at peace with the inevitable.

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

In the Hallway

A close friend of mine used an analogy the other day that's stuck with me. She said her higher power has closed a door in her life and hasn't opened another one yet. So for now she's stuck in the hallway, waiting for another door to open. Yesssssss. That's so my life right now. I'm in limbo, in the hallway, waiting for something new, for a door to open, but it hasn't yet and it's uncomfortable.

I hate this phase. I think most people do. And at the same time I recognize this is a part of life -- it's filled with speed and then pause. Even when breathing we inhale, pause slightly, and then exhale with another slight pause. When we walk, we put one foot on the ground or we can't move forward. The left foot makes the next step only if the right foot prepares by being placed on the ground.

I live here now. Metaphorically speaking. Photo by Runnyrem on Unsplash.

My spiritual teacher says, "This is crucial for successful movement. Thus if we wish to say something about speed, or the characteristics of movement, we will have to acknowledge the necessity of the state of pause otherwise it will not be possible to move into the next stage. …  This speed and pause will continue. Pause means gathering momentum for speed in the subsequent phase. If one closely watches the effect of speed on a particular community or the entire humanity, one sees that generally people eulogize the period of speed. However, we cannot afford to ignore the state of pause, because by judging what the previous state of pause was like, we can discern the speed of the next phase."

A couple of things jump out at me from that quote. First of all, the pause is temporary. It feels like I'm going to be stuck in this hallway forever but I won't be. Worse comes to worst I'll get a job at an ice cream parlor or a grocery store or something. Things will change, they absolutely will, even if a part of me doesn't believe that. I'm reminded just because I may not believe something doesn't make it any less true. For instance, some people still believe the Earth is flat, but regardless, the Earth is round.

The other point that jumps out at me from the quote is the last bit, about how the state of pause can help discern the speed of the next phase. What I'm taking that to mean is my life is going to go off like a rocket. All of this momentum, this angst, is going to catapult me into the next phase and my life will move at warp speed. I cannot express how much I'm looking forward to it. And at the same time, I'm recognizing the necessity for this state of pause, this place where I'm spinning my wheels, revving my engine, and getting ready to zoom ahead. Pretty soon a door will open and I'm going to bolt through it. But for now I'm here, in the hallway.

I dream of a world where we recognize the importance of limbo periods. A world where we understand in order to move ahead we also have to pause, to gather momentum. A world where we recognize even when it seems like we're standing still it's all in service of what's next.

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

We Still Belong

Belonging is on my mind a lot these days. I think in part it's because I'm still unemployed. I interview somewhere and they assess whether I'm a good fit for them and I assess whether they're a good fit for me. Thus far nowhere has been a match. It's tough to be rejected so many times, especially when the stakes are so high. The way our society is set up you have to have money to survive. I realize there are workarounds with bartering and such, but my electric company isn't keen on receiving an astrology reading in lieu of payment for my electric bill. So. Gotta have that green.

You know how some people talk about eating rejection for breakfast? Or how some authors kept all their rejections from publishing houses as an "I'll show them" gesture? Yeah, I'm not one of those people. Each rejection stings and with each rejection I take it as a personal affront there's something wrong with me. "What did I say wrong during the interview? What was bad about my résumé or writing sample?" Everything becomes about me and a reflection of how I'm terrible.

An apropos sign. Photo by Amer Mughawish on Unsplash.

This shame-based place culminates in feeling like an outsider because if I'm wrong then someone else is right. There must be a "correct" way to do things, right? Except what keeps knocking around in my head is my post from last week -- how the universe comes to know itself through me. If that's true, can I truly be wrong or right? Can I really be an outsider?

While watching a youtube video of Charles Eisenstein talking about the burning of the Amazon, he said there's a larger intelligence that knows where to put you in its healing. As soon as he said that, my eyes welled up because it reminded me my life is so much bigger than me. Maybe I'm right where I am meant to be, even if that's jobless. And also my placement at a company is not only about my skills and talents, it's also about where I'll be of the most use, the most service, the most healing.

Where I fit, where I belong, is not only where I want to be, what I want to do, it's also about the universe or my higher power. Where does higher power think I should be? Where does the universe think I'll be of most use in coming to know itself and also for its healing? I belong where I am. If I'm here, now, that's where I'm meant to be. It's a hard pill to swallow because sometimes the present moment is painful but that doesn't mean something is out of sync. After all, just think of childbirth.

I wish I could say after writing this post I suddenly feel completely at home and at ease in my self, my body, my life, but I don't. What I can say though is I feel marginally better that's good enough for me.

I dream of a world where we realize we're exactly who we're supposed to be and exactly where we're meant to be. A world where we realize the universe puts us where we'll best aid in its healing and that means even if it doesn't feel like it, we still belong.

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

The Unfolding of Me (and You)

A friend of mine shared a quote recently that keeps kicking around in my brain. In the book Journey of the Universe, Brian Swimme and Mary Evelyn Pope write:

"[J]ust as the Milky Way is the universe in the form of a galaxy, and an orchid is the universe in the form of a flower, we are the universe in the form of a human. And every time we are drawn to look up into the night sky and reflect on the awesome beauty of the universe, we are actually the universe reflecting on itself. And this changes everything."

We are the universe reflecting on itself. We think we are separate, apart, autonomous beings -- and we are -- but at the same time, we are also the universe. We are the universe in the form of a human. I wrote about that a while ago, the notion that we're all stardust, but my friend takes that concept a bit further. In essence, the tenet of our spiritual practice is that the universe is coming to know itself through us.

I like this picture because it's cosmic and it shows an unfolding process. Photo by Mark Tegethoff on Unsplash

I'm not sure how to expound on that concept. It's not easily explained and instead is more of a feeling or worldview. It's the recognition I am me -- a woman, a writer, etc. -- but I am also more than me. There's a "me" here that will live on after my death. Because I believe in reincarnation that means "I" was once a single-cell organism, then moved up the evolutionary chain to become a plant, then an animal, then a human. As a human, I have made a conscious choice to know the divine, but because I'm already made up of the universe, made up of stardust, that's another way the universe is coming to know itself through me. I am a conduit, a channel, a vessel for the universe to express itself. We are all of us the universe but we're wearing different costumes.

I hear frequently that "the world needs the special gift that only you have," or that we all have our own unique genius. Usually I roll my eyes because it sounds like a trite throwaway, but when I think about the universe knowing itself through me, it takes my ego out of the equation. I'm not sure that makes a lot of sense but in essence I become aware of something bigger than me. My life becomes about more than what I want, what I don't want, what I have, what I don't have. My life becomes a spiritual endeavor where I'm dancing and playing with the universe as a co-conspirator. And eventually that play will lead me back to the source of all creation. In the meantime, the life I'm living is like a rose in bloom. Each petal, each experience unfolds and contributes to the rose in its entirety.

I dream of a world where we realize there's more to us than we're aware. A world where we recognize the universe knows itself through us. That as much as we think we're interacting with the world, it's also that the world is interacting with us. A world where we recognize with each experience we continue to unfold.

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

Tuning to a Certain Pitch

I've woken up most mornings this week with swollen eyelids. On Friday I received two job rejections. My unemployment money runs out in a couple of months. I mention all this to set the scene -- I'm not feeling all that peaceful, and in fact "anxious" is a better description. Maybe even a little panicked. How is this all going to work out?

When I called a friend and gave him the lowdown, he told me a story about a spiritual master who got caught in a rope while pulling water up from a well. The master stayed stuck for hours until a disciple came by and freed him. The disciple said, "You seemed so relaxed. Were you in pain?" The master replied, "I was in pain, it hurt a lot, but I also felt at peace."

This picture will make more sense once you keep reading. Photo by Providence Doucet on Unsplash

I spent 20 minutes googling that story and can't find it so my telling of it is not very adept. What stuck with me though is the moral of the story: that I can still feel at peace in the pain and in the struggle. What does that even mean? I'm not sure but I think it comes down to acceptance, which leads me to a quote I found while searching for the rope story.

Sufi teacher Hazrat Inayat Khan said, "Tagore says: ‘When the string of the violin was being tuned it felt the pain of being stretched, but once it was tuned then it knew why it was stretched.' So it is with the human soul. While the soul goes through pain, torture, and trouble it thinks it would have been much better if it had gone through life without it. But once it reaches the culmination of it, then, when it looks back, it begins to realize why all this was meant: it was only meant to tune the soul to a certain pitch.”

Before I interviewed for the jobs that ultimately rejected me, I felt peace because I said to myself, "If I'm not employed yet it's because I'm not meant to be. There's more learning or healing or something I need to go through that wouldn't be possible with a job." When I say that even now I feel better. I don't know why I'm struggling so much right now. I don't know why things aren't looking the way I want them to, but what I do know is one day I'll look back and understand everything. I'll see how my soul was being tuned to a certain pitch, but in the meantime, I'm still being stretched.

I dream of a world where we understand even pain has a purpose. A world where we sit with our pain, finding peace where we can. A world where we recognize when we're going through hardship it may be because our soul is tuning to a certain pitch.

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

The Pairing of Joy and Sorrow

This weekend held a wide range of emotions from the high to the low. On Saturday I went to a bachelorette party for one of my closest friends. We lounged by the pool, chatted, and generally celebrated her impending marriage. It was a joy to spend time with her and other close friends of hers for the sole purpose of having fun. But I had another event this weekend and it was not a bachelorette party.

A family friend of mine passed away a couple of weeks ago and it's sent shockwaves through my community. I say that because no one could have guessed he would have passed away. He was one of the most healthy, vibrant people I knew. When I think of him, I see him with a huge smile on his face, beaming out joy to the world. He was the same age as my parents so his death has me confronting their mortality as well. Layered on top of that, I grew up with his daughters so his death hits me in another way that's hard to express. Sunday was his memorial service and I cried through most of the ceremony.

Seemed appropriate. Photo by Bryan Garces on Unsplash

But here's the interesting part: joy and sorrow get to coexist within me, within us. Even during the memorial service we could hear his grandchildren laughing and playing in the background. It reminded me both emotions can be present. That joy and sorrow can be like the yin yang symbol with a little bit of white in the black and a little bit of black in the white. In my experience life is like that. Attending a wedding can bring up grief about being single. A funeral can bring not joy, but appreciation at reconnecting with friends, even if the circumstances are sad. This weekend was a study in that for me -- pairing joy with sorrow.

Two years ago I wrote a poem about a similar experience following the death of a coworker called "Big Enough for Both:"

Big enough for both
Grief and celebration
A funeral and a wedding
Loss and gain
Hurting and healing
All at once
Altogether
Everything
Everything
Everything

That's what life is like for me right now, maybe for all of us. It's heartbreaking and heart-gladdening. It's happy and sad. It's frustrating and peaceful. It's everything all at once. I want to parse things out and say, "Now is a happy time and now is a sad time," but my life isn't like that. It's messy and chaotic and unpredictable. As I contemplate how to end this post, I can see my friend with a big smile on his face saying, "Don't worry, it's fine," as in, I don't have to make sense of it all, I don't have to try to change life or circumstances. I can be here, in the moment, accepting everything.

I dream of a world where we understand life is messy, chaotic, and unpredictable -- not only in terms of circumstances but also in emotions. A world where we realize the yin yang is an excellent portrayal of our experiences. A world where we understand that oftentimes joy is paired with sorrow and vice versa.

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

Out of Character

This weekend I surprised myself. I did things I'd consider out of character -- things other people do, but not me. I flew up to Ashland, Ore., for a quick up and back trip and started chatting with the woman next to me on my flight. During the course of the conversation I told her I didn't have a car and wasn't sure how I was getting to and fro. She said, "Well, let me give you my number and if you need a ride while you're out there, give me a call." I said, "Actually, what I really need is a ride from the airport to my hostel."

She told me her parents were picking her up but she was sure they wouldn't mind dropping me off. "Really?" and she replied in the affirmative. So I got into the car with a stranger that I didn't pay to transport me. In my world you don't do that sort of thing because it's dangerous. Even getting into a lyft or a taxi provokes anxiety within me so trusting a total stranger is antithetical to my normal behavior. My whole weekend was like that. I made conversations with strangers. I stayed in a hostel and socialized in the evenings. Even staying in a hostel is unusual for me.

I looked for "character" and this is what I found. I like it. Photo by Антон Воробьев on Unsplash

Normally I stay in hotels or airbnbs because I enjoy my personal space. I'm highly particular and want to control as many variables as I can. However, due to financial limitations, and also the desire to stay close to town, I slept at a hostel. I've heard stories of people making friends with strangers or the magic of connection during travel experiences, but my magical experiences tend to involve thinking I missed my train but the train was running late. I barely ask strangers for directions much less make conversation with them.

It may seem like a small thing, but for me it's indicative I'm trusting myself and the universe more. I'm starting to view the world as safe and friendly as opposed to scary and antagonistic. It's for many reasons -- the chiropractor I'm seeing, the work I continue to do in therapy -- but what stands out to me is the way we experience the world and ourselves can change. How the world appears to us is not stagnant or stale. It's dynamic and vibrant and we are the same. The title of this post is "out of character" but it's just as true there are many facets to my personality and perhaps this Rebekah is someone I hadn't met yet, but she's been here all along.

My spiritual teacher speaks to this through his words and actions. His first initiate was a dangerous criminal who tried to rob him. That criminal completely turned his life around and became ethical, sincere, and devotional. No one would have predicted that person existed inside that criminal, but he did. And the same is true for all of us. There are internal people we know and internal people we don't know, but it's all us. And maybe "out of character" is like the people I met this weekend -- strangers that become friends.

I dream of a world where we recognize there is more to us than we think. A world where we understand acting out of character just means a part of us is unfamiliar and unknown. A world where we realize we all have many parts and facets to our personality and perhaps it's time to say hello.

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

Churning Leads to Change

The word to describe how I feel right now is "churned." I feel a swirl of emotions both due to my personal life and what's taking place in society. I'm angry and sad and scared. I have compassion fatigue. I feel overwhelmed. I want to retreat to a hidey-hole. I want to punch certain people in the face. Did I mention I'm feeling churned right now?

I think a lot of people are feeling churned. The purpose of this post is to say first and foremost, you're not alone. Second of all, I'm thinking about the reason behind churning. One of the definitions of churning relates to butter, as in milk or cream is stirred in order to separate the oily globules from the other to make butter. The churn creates something new.

Maybe this churn, this agitation, will create something new personally as well as in the world. I think about another time in my life when I felt churned. One such period was at 15; I went to Camp Anytown, which is a camp sponsored by the National Conference for Community and Justice that works to break down prejudice and promote diversity. Before attending the camp, I didn't think of myself as a racist or prejudiced person. I was nice to everybody. How could I be racist and prejudiced? Well, I was and am. As many people have said, racism is embedded in our environment. It's the air we breathe; it's baked into the systems we operate. Our country was literally built on the back of racism. Of course that trickles out to other -isms too. They usually go hand in hand.

Really wish I could find a picture of churning butter, but a food processor pic will have to do! Photo by Irene Kredenets on Unsplash

The only way to root out those -isms is to confront them. To bring them in our face. To get churned up so they transform into something else. That's precisely what happened at Camp Anytown. We shared our snap judgments of different races. We talked about media portrayals. We held panel discussions about our own experiences. And we changed.

I wonder if that's happening for us right now. If we as a society are transforming into something new and this is part of the process. We're in the painful part where the oily globules are separated from the other. We're in the unsettled part where things are strange and disorienting because we can never go back to how it was before. The U.S. will literally never be the same after Trump's presidency, for better or for worse. People may try to go back to the status quo, but it will be impossible after so much has been revealed.

That's the role of struggle, according to my spiritual teacher. He said, "Just as all-round physical exercise makes the body fit, similarly appropriate psychic and spiritual exercise … leads to one’s psychic evolution and spiritual elevation. If one is keen to advance, if one wants to attain expansion as well as bliss in life, one must continue to struggle."

I'm there. I'm struggling. We all are. And maybe it's a sign of our evolution and elevation. How we're all going to be better for it.

I dream of a world where we recognize struggle can lead to something better. Where churning means we're in the middle of growing into something new. A world where we have patience with the process of transformation. A world where we understand churning leads to change.

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

Womb Time

A note about the audio this week: I ran out of space on Soundcloud and haven't transferred over to a new location yet. The audio has been recorded but not posted on the new platform. Stay tuned.

This week as I thought about my job search, the image and metaphor that came to mind is being in the womb. A fetus needs time to develop, to grow, to gather strength for the outside world. And if the fetus enters the outside world before that process has completed, well, we all know what happens.

What's funny about me is I came into the world impatient. I was born three weeks premature -- so early I didn't have fingerprints. Normally that's a little anecdote I drop when I'm talking to pregnant people, conversing about their baby's due date. This week though, it sunk in how much my entire life I tend to replicate my birth story. I want to rush the process, I want to do things NOW. Don't make me wait in the dark, the unknown. Let's get this show on the road!

Sometimes we need to be "in the womb." Photo by Alicia Petresc on Unsplash

As I've continued to feel gratitude for unemployment, noticing what I'm capable of engaging with due to not working a regular job, I've felt safer, calmer. I've felt myself floating in the universal womb. I've said to friends and family, "Maybe it's not a matter of the right job so much as the right time." What I mean is the job is less important than the timing of it all. Maybe the universe wants me to sleep in a little longer, or focus on my health more, or finish up my book before I start working again.

Instead of feeling panicked, which yes, still happens sometimes, I'm imagining myself in the womb, understanding during this period I'm developing, growing, gathering strength for my next adventure.

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.”

When I started asking myself, "What does my higher power want of me right now? Why is it that I'm still unemployed from a Cosmic perspective?" I felt better. I left the shame-based, "There's something wrong with me or my résumé" place. I stopped beating myself up and instead realized maybe my higher power doesn't want me to be employed yet. And this week especially, maybe my higher power doesn't want me to be employed yet because I'm like a fetus in the womb, not ready to be in the world. But that doesn't mean it's not coming, because it will. Eventually all babies leave the womb, and that means me too.

I dream of a world where we understand if something isn't happening, perhaps it's not time for it to happen. A world where we realize even though we're out in the world doesn't mean we don't continue to have periods of going back to a metaphorical womb. A world where we understand the grace and importance of womb time.

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

Space for Something New

Every holiday I think about the one from the year prior. What was I doing? Who was I with? This July 4th was no different. In addition to reminiscing about last year, I also took stock of my life. I was reminded how much I've changed, how much my life has changed, and how some of my relationships have changed. There are certain people who are no longer in my life; not because they died (although there are a few of those), but rather because we grew apart. We have become alien to each other and don't own starships to bring us together.

I cried over the loss of those relationships and all the while a little voice in my head whispered about making space for something new. I have a tendency to cling on to things far past the point of being healthy. Alexander Graham Bell has me pegged with his quote, "When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us."

It's important to leave space for something new. Photo by Dylan de Jonge on Unsplash

This week I'm looking at the open door. In terms of relationships, that means I'm noticing the new ones in my life from the past year. Or the old ones that are new again; in other words, relationships where I reconnected with someone from my past. By clearing out the old relationships, by letting them go, I'm making space for the new ones. I have the capacity to nourish what's here because I'm not caught up in knocking on a closed door.

We have that saying nature abhors a vacuum. I abhor vacuums too, but not the ones that clean the carpet. Those I love. I abhor the life vacuums but there's wisdom in acknowledging their importance. Of seeing the beauty in empty space because empty space doesn't last. Soon it will be filled with something. Maybe saying goodbye to old relationships opens me up to better ones. It doesn't mean the love died because for me anyway it hasn't. It just means I'm no longer investing time and energy in cultivating the relationships that no longer serve me.

I'd love to throw in a spiritual quote here or make this post more profound but it's not. The practice is a simple one that we all must learn. In order to make space for something new, we have to get rid of the old, whether that's an object or a belief.

I dream of a world where we understand it's important to grieve the loss of closed doors but also turn our attention to doors that are open. A world where we clear away what no longer serves us. A world where we realize nature abhors a vacuum and thus ultimately we are making space for something new.

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

The Key to Sanity

I spoke with a friend this week and she said she's confused by events that start off miraculously and then wind up being a dumpster fire. Is the event still a miracle in that case?

Good question. It brings to mind a story I heard about a Chinese farmer who used a stallion to till his fields. One day the stallion escaped into the hills. The farmer’s neighbors lamented his bad luck but he replied, “Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?”

A week later, the stallion returned with a herd of horses from the hills. The neighbors rejoiced, congratulating the farmer on his good luck. He replied, “Good luck? Bad luck? Who knows?” The farmer’s son attempted to ride one of the wild horses but he fell off and broke his leg. Everyone exclaimed, "Oh no! What bad luck!" The farmer said, “Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?”

Good luck? Bad luck? Who knows! Photo by Yan Ming on Unsplash

Some weeks later, an army marched into the village and conscripted every able-bodied young man they found. When they saw the farmer’s son with his broken leg, they exempted him. Was it good luck or bad luck? Who knows!

I have to be honest -- my first reaction to the end of that story is to say it was good luck, but honestly, who knows? As the story demonstrates, life is a ceaseless up and down. There's a reason we talk about the wheel of fortune, and I don't mean the game show.

Time often grants me perspective, shows me the bigger picture. I see how the bad things led to better things and vice versa. Right now I have what could be characterized as bad luck: no job, despite my efforts. However, I have a glimpse of how the bad luck could be good luck. As I mentioned in my last post, I've slept in nearly every day for 3.5 months. I'm seeing the wisdom in the farmer's attitude, that good luck can become bad luck and bad luck can become good luck. In yoga, we call this equanimity of mind.

To paraphrase my spiritual teacher, a person who views everything with equanimity, be it their home or the burial ground, gold or grass, their own children or their enemies, fire or water, lives in the world thoroughly cleansed mentally and spiritually, seeing beyond duality.

Here's a joke for you: As I wrote the previous sentence, I heard someone vacuuming their car. I obviously have some internal cleaning to do and the universe wanted to underscore that point! It's not a state I'm in frequently, but when I have more mental equipoise I feel better, unfazed by weal and woe. In a life filled with weal and woe, mental balance seems to be the key to sanity, helping us all cope.

I dream of a world where we understand the wheel of fortune keeps turning and good becomes bad, bad becomes good. A world where we maintain our equanimity of mind during booms and busts. A world where we find serenity and we know peace.

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