The Sweetness of Life

For the past few days I've been thinking about how I commemorate those who matter to me. How funny and appropriate that it should coincide with Memorial Day.

What kicked off the contemplation is a recent therapy session where I connected with the spirit of my maternal grandmother through a family constellation. We discovered on a subconscious level I thought the best way to commemorate my grandmother was to remember her suffering and pay attention to my own. That if I didn't remember all the horrible things she and my other ancestors went through that they'd be forgotten. It doesn't make sense on a rational level, but that's the way it goes with beliefs sometimes.

During the session I came to realize the best way to honor my grandmother and everyone else is to live a joyful life. They didn't go through hell for me to live in misery. They want me to be happy, to notice the good things, to live a better and easier life than they did.

Isn't this a sweet picture? Photo by Sandy Millar on Unsplash

 As if to underscore the point, just before writing this post I had a baffling encounter. I visited with my next-door neighbor and their dog for a spell. When I re-entered my apartment, I walked to the bathroom to wash my hands. As I turned, I noticed something on my back. My heart leapt thinking a large spider crawled on me. When I peered closer, I determined it wasn't a spider, it was a bumblebee. I spent literally one second outside crossing the threshold from my neighbor's apartment into mine, and in that second, a bumblebee landed on me. Either that or my neighbor had a bumblebee in their house. Regardless, a strange event.

In shamanism, do you know what bumblebees represent? The honey or sweetness of life, of course. I'd like to believe the bumblebee showed up in an unusual way to emphasize the point. To say, "Yes, remember life is joyful, it's sweet. Keep going in this direction. Remember good things and keep in mind positive outcomes are just as likely as negative ones."

It's not only the bumblebee delivering this message; it's also numerous spiritual traditions around the world. The ancient Hindu scriptures, the Vedas, say, "This quinquelemental world has been born out of joy, is being maintained in joy, and into sacred joy will melt." Yeah! Sign me up for that! In actuality, I don't need to be signed up for anything because joy is already here whether I'm aware of it or not. What I'm working on these days is bringing joy out of my periphery and into the forefront. And I have that wish for everyone.

I dream of a world where we acknowledge suffering but also joy. A world where we feel into the notion that the world was born out of joy and unto joy we shall return. A world where we experience the sweetness of life.

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

Accept It First

One of the things I'm grappling with right now, as per usual, is acceptance. It's easier for me to zoom ahead to the near-distant future when things are different. When I have a job again, when my body feels better. It's much harder me to stay in the moment and accept my current reality. The present moment sucks sometimes. Who wants to accept something crappy? I sure don't. However, I'm reminded, as I often am, of a passage from the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous on this topic:

“Acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing, or situation -- some fact of my life -- unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing, or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing, happens in God’s world by mistake.”

Sometimes I believe that passage and sometimes I don't. In a conversation with a friend she said sometimes she thinks life is drunk because things don't make sense or they're wacky. I agree. Life is weird. I'm not sure in this moment about the "no mistakes" thing. However, what I know to be true, is as much as I want things to change, they won't unless I start where I am. For years I wanted to touch my toes, but I couldn't. Every day I stretched my hamstrings a little farther, a little farther, and now I can touch my toes. But I had to accept my limitations in the moment of how far I could reach.

What if we accepting everything like a guest? Photo by Henry & Co. on Unsplash

There's something interesting for me in holding the paradox of where I am and where I want to be. Of accepting that I don't like where I am and making an effort to be somewhere else. How do you hold those two places?

I looked up the definition of "accept" and one definition is "to receive." I'm resonating with that word right now because a dear friend said to me the other day that I'm meeting myself. When I accept myself or my life circumstances, I'm receiving them, I'm meeting them, I'm greeting them. They become like a friend coming in out of a storm that I'm welcoming inside. There is no judgment, no sense of good or bad. Instead, there is neutrality and that's exactly what I'm striving for right now. To let myself be what I am -- no more and no less.

I can apply that mentality to circumstances as well. Do I like them? No. Can I receive them? Yes. To take the guest analogy further, guests are not residents -- eventually they leave. Some guests stay longer than others, sure, but no one sticks around forever. And in the interim, what sort of host am I? I'd like to be the gracious and hospitable kind.

I dream of a world where we all practice acceptance. A world where we receive with hospitality all the "guests" that cross our threshold whether we invited them or not because sometimes we're stuck with one another. A world where we realize nothing changes until we accept it first.

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

Bodily Intelligence

My body hurts. Not in a debilitating way. More like in a dull, aching, inflamed way. The pain reminds me my body is not a machine, despite my predilection to treat it that way. I have to admit I'm angry I can't control my body; that it's not doing what I want it to be doing. But when I dig a little deeper, I remember my body isn't some irrational creature -- rather it reacts to something. In my case, I'm realizing my body has stored trauma.

Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, an expert on trauma, has spent more than three decades working with trauma survivors. In The Body Keeps the Score, he uses scientific advances to show how trauma literally reshapes both body and brain, compromising sufferers’ capacities for pleasure, engagement, self-control, and trust. In essence, trauma is not only something that happens in the brain, but in the body.

The body has its own intelligence. Photo by Lucrezia Carnelos on Unsplash

I've spent many years unraveling trauma on a psychological level. I've read books, enlisted help from others, and engaged in practices such as EMDR to rewire my brain. What I haven't done as much, what I've largely ignored, is the physical component of stress and trauma. Don't get me wrong, I have a regular yoga practice and have seen energy medicine practitioners over the years, but it's obvious I need something more because I have a long list of foods I'm allergic to and I keep adding to it. It's not realistic for me to spend the rest of my life avoiding certain things because if I eat something often enough, I become allergic to it. A friend of mine joked pretty soon all I'll be able to eat is protein water. There's a kernel of truth to her joke.

I'm starting to see a network spinal analysis chiropractor. It's a modality Tony Robbins said is one of the most powerful sources of transformation he's ever experienced. This blogpost isn't to extol the virtues of network care, but rather to bring more awareness to the body. How often do we get pissed because our shoulder hurts but neglect to ask why it hurts? How often do we treat our bodies like enemies instead of close friends? I'm absolutely guilty of this, but more so, I've been a bit naïve thinking I could experience some of the most stressful things possible and that my body would not be impacted. I thought I could carry on as usual. Turns out I can't.

My spiritual tradition emphasizes the divinity in all things, and that includes the body. It's my responsibility to treat my body as a sacred vessel, helping it to calm down and unwind from stress. Sometimes that means taking a bubble bath, but sometimes that means seeing a professional. I realize not everyone has the means to do so, but it is my sincerest wish that everyone has the opportunity to access that sort of care.

I dream of a world where we all take care of our physical forms. A world where we recognize our bodies carry stress and trauma. A world where we help ourselves heal in body, mind, and spirit using modalities that work for us. A world where our society honors and values the lives and bodies of all of us.

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

Love and Community

Facebook is reminding me of events from several years ago. In 2013 at this time I moved into a sublet in Berkeley, unsure if I would find a place to live that suited my needs and my budget. What's interesting to remember, and relevant for my present situation, is seeing how taken care of I was. In one particular incident, that prompted a blogpost, somebody gave me a magnet while traveling. I could have thrown it away, but I kept it even though carrying around a refrigerator magnet when you don't have a fridge isn't logical.

When I moved into the Berkeley sublet, the bare metallic refrigerator gleamed under the kitchen light. I grabbed a scrap of paper to write my grocery list, which I normally keep on the fridge, but didn't have a magnet to hold it up, until I remembered the magnet given to me months before. The universe provided me with something I didn't know I needed, which moved me deeply.

 Love and community! Isn't this a great image? Photo by Tim Marshall on Unsplash

The universe continues to move me. At the moment, I'm unemployed and broke as a joke. Yet strangely, I feel relaxed and at ease because the universe continues to provide for me. On Wednesday, I went to a paid focus group. This week I have another focus group scheduled. These don't happen regularly. I can't plan or predict when I'll be chosen because each focus group looks for a certain demographic. The fact I'm participating in two this month when I need the money is pure grace.

The universe is also showing up for me through friends. A friend paid me to babysit her son. Other friends have bought me dinner, or given me rides places, or gifted me with money and frequent flyer miles. (I feel a little awkward mentioning it, but I'd be remiss if I didn't highlight my patreon campaign, which is a great way to contribute to me and this blog. No worries if you don't feel moved, but it's an option if it calls to you.)

I may be broke financially, but I feel rich in other respects due to my friendships. Thank you for that. Thank you for your generosity, for your support, your care. Thank you for helping me during this challenging time. This period has shown me I've invested wisely in my relationships.

Beneath my anxiety over getting a job, I feel calm and at ease. I feel supported and caught by a net that's bigger than me. It's a web woven with threads of friendship and love from my higher power.

My spiritual teacher often couches the divine as a loving parent, taking care of us, knowing what we need and want. It's in difficult times that I see how true that is. In a weird way, I'm grateful I'm unemployed because it's an opportunity for connection with my community, myself, and my higher power. I'll be grateful when I have a job again, of course, but there's also something special about witnessing the magic of the universe providing me with what I need.

I dream of a world where we notice how we're taken care of. A world where we feel supported and at ease in good times and bad. A world where we recognize the value of our relationships. A world where we have faith the universe will come through for us.

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