Liberation Allegories

As people all over the world celebrate, or recently celebrated Passover and Easter, I think about how both of those stories have never felt more relevant. To jog your memory, Passover is the story of Moses, the burning bush, and the 10 commandments. What I want to focus on in this post is the part where Moses commanded the Egyptian Pharaoh of the time to let the enslaved Jews go free and the Pharaoh refused. As retribution, God delivered 10 plagues. I’m not going to relay the whole story (you can read the rest here), but if I had to sum up the story of Passover, it’s about escaping plagues and seeking freedom.

It’s interesting to me the Hebrew word for Egypt, Mitzrayim, also means narrow spaces. I find that especially symbolic right now as we’re all in this global pandemic and under quarantine. We’re in a tight, narrow space, but Passover is the story of moving through that, of fleeing into freedom.

This picture evoked the burning bush and liberation for me. Photo by Will Truettner on Unsplash

Easter has a similar story of freedom. The way I’ve heard author Glennon Doyle characterize Easter is it’s a story of pain (i.e., the crucifixion), then the waiting (when Jesus was in a cave), and then the rising (when he resurrected). We are collectively in the waiting place, waiting for the rising, metaphorically speaking. We’re also collectively in the tight, narrow space, as we are besieged by the COVID-19 plague.

These holidays remind us of the deep, dark, painful things that happen to us in life, sometimes personally and sometimes in society, as well as the relief from no longer being there. These holidays celebrate the thrill of leaving those narrow spaces behind and being able to roam free. Passover and Easter are holidays that celebrate hope and courage without omitting the pain. We will eventually reach the promised land, so to speak, not without cost, but it will come.

I also think about a quote I repeat regularly from my spiritual teacher who said, “Difficulties can never be greater than your capacity to solve them.” Right now our difficulties may feel insurmountable, but the holidays many of us are celebrating remind us that’s not true. The holidays remind us it can take a while, a long, long while, but eventually liberation happens.

It’s premature to celebrate just yet, but I know it’s coming. That little bit of hope is what keeps me going. I want to know what’s on the other side of all this. Don’t you? How will I be changed and how will society be changed? Right now we don’t know yet because we’re in the middle of the story, but oh my goodness, I can’t wait to find out what’s next.

I dream of a world where we remember no matter what we’re going through, eventually it will pass. A world where we remember we, too, will be liberated from our narrow spaces at some point. A world where we take heart in stories from the past and use them as fuel for the future.

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

Maybe Believing Makes it So

Lately I've been thinking about how as much as history is filled with stories of human suffering, it's also filled with stories about overcoming it. In my own life, I'm prone to tell the former more than the latter. For instance, I'm quick to tell people I was hit by a car as a pedestrian, but rarely do I mention the strangers who stopped for me, who drove me home, who copied down the license plate number. Nor do I mention my friends who rushed over to comfort me, to ply me with arnica and rescue remedy.

Instead of a testament to the kindness of others, I broadcast the tragedy. Even now I notice it's easier for me to get stuck in the present moment in a bad way. I think the present moment will last forever and have trouble maintaining perspective. It's hard for me to feel optimistic about my personal future.

I'm reminded here of my maternal grandmother. During the Holocaust, she hid in a potato cellar with a rabbi and his family for 11 months. The living conditions were hellish, as I'm sure you can imagine. Not to mention she contracted typhus and couldn't get proper medical care because, well, she was in hiding. She wanted to die and the rabbi said to her, “You will get through this. Your life will get better.” My grandma thought he'd lost his mind. She did get through it and her life did get better. Not every moment was a party, but she experienced joy again, which she didn't think was possible.

True story: I spotted a rainbow on my walk home today. Not this one though. Photo by Simon John-McHaffie on Unsplash

During hard times it's difficult to remember things change, but they do. Even if I look at the coronavirus as an example, I see that's true. A month ago I didn't know it existed and now schools are closed, events are canceled, flights are grounded. A lot has happened very quickly. The same is true for us. Our lives can change in an instant. When I say that, I usually think of it in the negative, as in, forecasting terrible things, but the reality is life can change for the better in an instant too. I could sign a new client tomorrow. I could bump into my future husband on the street after we've both emerged from social isolation. A year from now my novel could be a bestseller. I truly don't know.

Again taking the coronavirus as an example, the air is clearing in China, CO2 emissions are down, and eating wild animals is banned. People are singing across the street to each other every day in Italy. We are all learning how to slow down and connect with one another in new ways, which is beautiful.

I realize we all have a negativity bias and it's a protective mechanism, but what if we started to skew in the other way? What if we started to search for the positive? For the hope? What if more of us could be like that rabbi in hiding with my grandma and fiercely believe the world would get better? That our lives would get better? Maybe believing it would make it so.

I dream of a world where we maintain our perspective. A world where we remember the present moment is fleeting. A world where we acknowledge suffering as well as the overcoming of it. A world where we hold on to hope for the future as much as we can.

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 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.

Motivated by Something Else

"Life should not be motivated by fear." I've heard that sentence hundreds of times but usually it goes in one ear and out the other. The message doesn't land because my mind can't compute the meaning. In some ways my life has absolutely been motivated by fear.

I'm applying to any and every job -- some that I want and some that I don't -- because I'm scared. I'm casting as wide a range as possible because a part of me feels desperate. I'm like that person on Tinder who swipes right for every profile because I want someone, anyone, to say, "Yes, I'll go out with you." I get it. We say with jobs and with dating that it's a numbers game so on some level it makes sense to apply for everything, to say yes to everyone. But on another level it does not.

Reach for the clouds! Or something. . . Photo by Samuel Zeller on Unsplash

I'm saying yes to everything because I'm scared that I won't be hired anywhere. I'm not accounting for my own needs and wants. Instead I'm saying I'll settle for anything. Sometimes that's necessary. In my situation it's not. I'm already living off of unemployment and food stamps. This is as low as it gets for me because I won't be homeless -- I have too many friends and family to allow that to happen. So this? This is the worst it will get for me given the circumstances.

What would my life look like if I wasn't motivated by fear? What if my job search wasn't motivated by fear but instead joy, service, or faith? What would be different? For starters, my mindset would change. I wouldn't say "if I get hired" but instead "when I get hired." I'd believe the right job is coming along at some point. I'd apply places that make use of my skills and talents instead of any job, every job.

Writing this my chest is tight and my breathing is shallow because a part of me is very attached to the fear perspective. I'm afraid to stop being afraid. But I want to and am willing to try something new.

My spiritual teacher says over and over again that the universe knows what we need and want before we do. That there's a loving entity looking out for us, guiding us, giving us what we need. We don't always realize it at the time; often it only becomes clear in retrospect. I'm finding that to be true for me. I won't list all the reasons why right now but will say briefly that being unemployed has meant sleeping in every day for more than three months. As someone who didn't sleep well for seven years, this is a tremendous gift and means I'm healing in ways I never thought possible. So perhaps my higher power knows what's best for me after all.

I dream of a world where we are motivated by joy, love, service, and faith. A world where we hold out for what we want when we're fortunate to be in a position to do so. A world where we realize our higher power is acting in our best interest and we surrender to that, trusting all is well.

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

Bringing Us Closer

According to the spiritual philosophy I ascribe to, we are all moving from imperfection to perfection. That means we are all growing, changing, developing. We are progressing from crude to subtle, culminating in merger with the subtlest entity of them all: The source of all creation.

There is a part of me that expects this process of moving from crude to subtle to be easy, painless, and strewn with roses. However, I'm reminded a caterpillar doesn't become a butterfly without struggle. That means in my movement toward the source of all creation, there will be some struggle, and dare I say it?, pain.

The last month especially is not what I would call a pleasure cruise: nightmares, grief, health troubles, financial insecurity. It's enough to make a gal throw her hands up in the air and ask, “Why?!?” The only conclusion I can come to, the only conclusion that makes sense to me, is this is to bring me closer to my nearest and dearest, my most precious Self. This is aiding me on my path to become even more subtle.

I'm on an aquatic kick.

If the end game is merger with the Supreme, then I have to believe everything that happens to me is in service of that goal. Everything that happens to me is precisely so I can move closer and closer, each breath to my beloved. Sometimes I think my beloved is the worst kind of lover – jealous and possessive, not above lying and scheming – all to bring me closer. All so I can turn to my higher power over and over again. Because that's precisely what's happening right now.

This month I've meditated with a fervor that hasn't been the case for a long time. Every spare minute it seems I'm thinking about the divine; aching, yearning, longing to feel better. To escape the pain I'm feeling in a constructive way. All this pain is not for punishment, it's not for a random, no-good reason. It's forcing me closer to God, and to God in the form of my community, and that's not such a bad thing.

My spiritual teacher says, “You should always remember that you are the children of the [Cosmic Consciousness] and it is your birthright to be one with Him. It is your birthright to sit upon His lap. Nobody can debar you from this birthright. That is why, knowingly or unknowingly, consciously or unconsciously, you should all move towards Him and be one with Him. This is the path of humanity.”

I dream of a world where we consciously move closer to the divine. A world where we take our pain and use it as a tool of transformation. A world where we understand even the difficult things happen ultimately for our own good.

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

Taken Care of in Advance

For the audio version of this post, scroll to the bottom.

I’ve been sharing this with people and it seems to touch them so I’m sharing it with you too.

I think I was always meant to live in my current space for a short period of time. When I first moved in my mom came down to help me get settled (bless her). We went to every big box store and thrift store around searching for things I would need to make my space more comfortable. Stuff like a standing lamp. We searched everywhere and couldn’t find one. In fact, the closest we came was a lamp at Goodwill that after the employee plugged it in, sparked and gave him an electric shock.

Instead of a standing lamp I'm making do with a paper lantern, which was already in my closet. Another instance of being taken care of in advance!

I think higher power created a block so I wouldn’t invest in my living space, in this case monetarily. I think I was prevented from finding the more expensive things I needed for this spot in particular because I was never meant to be here long.

When things don’t go my way I rail against the universe, stew in frustration, and think the whole world is against me. I’m seeing, yet again, that perhaps when things don’t go my way, it’s because they’re not supposed to. That actually, even I’m not supposed to go that way. That’s not to say moving in here was a mistake – it wasn’t – but clearly, this is a short-term fling.

Some things require hard work and patience, but I’m starting to see when there’s one road block after another, when the universe keeps putting up signs that say, “Stop. Don’t go this way,” maybe it’s because it’s better for me to not go that way! That not all obstacles are meant to be overcome. That some obstacles are the universe’s way of taking care of me.

I’m focusing on housing in this post, but I think the concept applies to other things too – jobs, relationships, opportunities. Maybe when there’s one obstacle after another after another, higher power is saying, “Turn around.” And maybe when we’re not allowed to invest financially or emotionally it’s because it’s better if we don’t. I can only imagine how angry and bitter I would feel if my landlady blew up at me and asked me to move out after I spent a lot of money fixing my place up and unpacked everything. At the moment, some of my stuff is still in boxes and there are no pictures on the walls. Not to mention, I saved almost all of my moving boxes so obviously on some level I knew this was coming. And even though I don’t enjoy this turn of events, I can still sit back and see how I’m taken care of in advance.

I dream of a world where we understand some obstacles are for our benefit. A world where we realize not every obstacle is meant to be overcome. A world where we understand sometimes things don’t work out and it’s for our own good. A world where we see we’re taken care of in advance.

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

Love is the Container

When I ride the bus it opens up my world and forces me to mix with people I might not otherwise. On Wednesday, I rode the bus and felt like crying hearing the stories around me – the snippets of people talking about being addicted to weed, the demeanor of the woman who looked ready to punch someone, the homeless people camping out at bus shelters. My heart broke a little because I care so much. I care so deeply. Yes, my sensitivity is probably over the top at the moment, but I can’t help that.

As tears started to leak from my eyes, a woman walked on the bus and sat in front of me. Her shirt said “love” down both the sleeves. In that moment I cried even harder because it struck me love is the container for all things. Even while I was crying, love was still there; in this case, literally. Love means it’s safe for me to cry, safe for me to be angry, safe for me to feel whatever I want. All of my emotions, all of my everything, really, are held in the container of love.

I know this is a trash can but there's a heart on it. So love is literally acting as a container!

Often I think love is separate from icky emotions or things I cast judgment upon. I think there is love and then there is everything else. What I’m coming to realize, however, is that’s false. Love is not outside of all these things, love IS everything; it’s omnipresent.

Nothing escapes the purview of love, nothing is outside of love. There is a Sanskrit mantra I sing every day that translates as “love is all there is.” For the longest time I couldn’t wrap my head around that definition and preferred the longer version: “Everything is an expression of an infinite, loving consciousness.” But today I finally “get” it. Love holds everything, even war, disease, famine, and poverty.

This blogpost may not make sense to many of you, but I hope someone understands what I’m trying to say, which is, even when we think it’s not, love is there. In truth, this concept transcends language so to really understand what I mean, I ask that you take a second to feel what I’m saying.

I dream of a world where we feel love in all things. A world where we understand it’s safe to feel however we’re feeling because we’re being held by divine love. A world where we understand nothing is outside of love because love is all there is.

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

Divine Timing

Today I was supposed to meet a friend of mine at 1 p.m. It didn’t happen. Everything took so much longer than I expected – my appointment, the bus, the walk. I sat fidgeting in my bus seat at 1:30 because, “Oh my god! I’m so late! He’s standing outside my apartment waiting for me!” I kept willing the bus to go faster, to not make all its stops. Every second counts dontcha know. And when I finally scampered to my door he told me it wasn’t a problem. That I arrived at the perfect time.

                                                    

I have this thing about punctuality. In general I think it’s a good idea because I value my time as well as other people’s. But when the Universe puts roadblocks in my way, perhaps it’s ok. Like that time I missed the bus but caught the FedEx guy. Maybe when I’m running late and it’s not my fault (or even when it is) I can relax about it. I’m not advocating flakiness because Lord knows the quickest way to upset me is to flake out, but maybe I can move toward the middle way, as my friend says. Maybe I can learn balance. Perhaps it doesn’t have to be either uptight and anal or flaky space cadet.  

My “thing” with punctuality also applies on a macrocosmic scale. I have thoughts about when things “should” happen. Like how my business “should” be further along or my book “should” be in its final stages of design. Or even how at 26 I “should” be in a serious relationship.

February is a big anniversary month for me (I moved to San Francisco three years ago on Valentine’s Day), so I’m doing a lot of reflecting. I’m noticing the divine timing of it all and how my hang up just gets in the way of my happiness. I won’t say always, but I will say mostly.

I’ve used this example so much, but when I first moved here I wanted a job and an apartment right away. If that happened I wouldn’t have been able to drive across the country with my mom when she really needed someone. The divine timing of it all coalesced so my (now former) company hired me at the end of August with a start date after Labor Day. Perfect! Momma planned to move the week before because that’s when her lease started. If the company hired me any sooner, my mother would have been up the creek without a paddle.

I also think about the friends of mine I just saw in New Hampshire. My friend had a crush on a guy who was unavailable, to put it simply. She looked for love but no one matched her. Then her crush became available and now they’re engaged. I’m not sure why I’m bringing that up except to say her crush was worth the wait. She tried to make it work with other people but it never did. She wanted to be with someone but it just wasn’t right. Her match was unavailable. Now, she and her match are one of the cutest couples I’ve had the pleasure to witness.

I know oftentimes my ego gets in the way. I have big huge desires I want to manifest IMMEDIATELY but the universe works a little slower sometimes. It’s lining things up so I’ll really be able to enjoy the sweetness of my desires. Because honestly, anything less just wouldn’t do. The timing though? I have no clue. I think in this moment it’s enough to feel at peace where I am and to let the universe work its magic.

I dream of a world where we accept divine timing. A world where we surrender time to the universe. A world where we know things are being arranged for us just so, and any earlier we would feel dissatisfied. A world where we don’t rush anything and rather move in the ease and flow of life. A world where we stay present and feel at peace, resting assured everything is happening for our best interest.

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

Love and Fear

This week I learned a lot about myself, where I am, and where I’d like to go. Someone I went to high school with died on Tuesday and it hit me like a Mack truck. We weren’t close but it brought up all this stuff for me. As soon as I heard the news I wanted to pick up the phone and call somebody, I wanted someone to comfort me.

As I walked home from work, tears leaking out from the corners of my eyes, my Papa did his best to pacify me. He said all the right things, made all the right soothing noises but it wasn’t enough. So then I called my mom. And she did all the same things. And it still wasn’t enough. And then I called some more people and it still wasn’t enough. After all this I realized, yet again, the comfort I crave has to come from me. The unconditional love, affection, and support has to come from within because coming from the outside it will never be enough. Because the outside love and comfort runs out. Because it’s unsustainable.

I think of it like a car. A car needs to run on gasoline but it can only go so far before it needs a refill. It’s the same way with getting love from the outside – it will help for a little while but eventually we’ll need more. Eventually we’ll run through the love and support someone else gave us and return for our refill. And keep returning unless we learn to refill ourselves. I’d rather generate my own love, affection, comfort and support because my supply is infinite. The love, affection, comfort and support coming from me never ends and never will end. And I don’t need a telephone or a computer to access it either, it’s right here with me at all times.

So here I am, back to self-love, back to filling up my own cup of happiness, back to relying on myself to meet my needs. Turning to myself for the unconditional love and support I crave. And I see how the more I love and approve and accept myself as I am, the more I can do that for others. Once I fill up myself, any leftovers can be given to other people.

The other issue Ryan’s death brought up for me was fear. Fear of what will happen to me. Fear I won’t realize my dreams. Fear of the future, which really means lack of trust. Lack of trust what’s best for me will happen. Lack of trust I’ll be taken care of. I would like to release my need for fear and instead turn my fear into trust and that’s done through love. Love for me and love for God.

Because life is magical, I of course came across this post on Louise L. Hay’s website (which I recommend reading) that deals with this very subject. Louise articulates exactly what I’ve been feeling using the exact same imagery. Before I came across the article, I wrote an e-mail to a friend saying how I think fear obscures our brightness. How fear is like a cloud that blocks out the sun. And how I’d rather live in the light. How I’d rather realize my own magnificence. In fact, that’s one of the affirmations Louise recommends: “I am now willing to only see my magnificence.”

And so, I realize I created this mental pattern, this need for fear, but so too I realize I can uncreate it. I have the power to change my mind and I use that power to create a life I wish to lead. I want to feel loved at all times. I want to feel safe at all times in all situations. I want to trust in my Creator and my Creator’s plan for me. I want to realize my magnificence and rise above thoughts that attempt to make me afraid. I am already cradled by the Divine in each and every moment – now it’s up to me to remember that.

I dream of a world where we love ourselves unconditionally. Where we feel safe in the here and now. Where we release our need for fear. Where we recognize ourselves to be bright, shining stars. A world where peace and harmony reign. A world where we feel at ease because we know and trust all our needs will be met. A world filled with magic and wonder and awe. A world where we see everything as an expression of an infinite, loving consciousness. Ourselves included.

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