Maybe it’s the perfectionist in me, but whenever something goes wrong in any of my relationships I assume it’s my fault. It’s because I’m weird or said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing. I am always to blame. Except. . .I’m not.
I had an encounter with a friend last week that showed me other people are to blame too. I’m not always the bad guy. Yeah, I “knew” other people had flaws but somehow they didn’t register because the really flawed people I don’t associate with. I somehow assumed everyone around me was near perfect because they didn’t club baby seals. My rose-colored glasses finally fell off when I looked at my friend and really saw him. He can be impulsive and live completely in the now, which means he doesn’t always think things through. A little part of me worries about typing that because, “What will my friend think?” but honestly he probably won’t think much because -- it’s ok for me to not be “perfect” and it’s ok for other people to not be perfect as well. We’re human. We all have our character flaws. All of us. Even the really nice lovely people. Even those we cherish the most. So when I’m fighting with someone, no, I’m not solely to blame. No, I’m not the only one who makes mistakes. I’m not the only screw up in the room.
Other people have free will, other people are allowed to make choices and mess up, and yeah, that will affect me. No one else has all the answers or “acts perfectly” or has it all figured out. No one else has a manual for how to go through life. I thought they did, I felt like an alien invader, but now I realize everyone else is just trying to figure it out too. Some people put on a better show than others, but really everyone is just doing their best putting one foot in front of the other.
I guess I’m saying I finally understand relationships involve other people. (Duh Rebekah!) Other people are allowed to air their dirty laundry, to play out their character defects, to blunder through life. I don’t have to hold myself to a different standard, either higher or lower. People are going to be who they are and oftentimes it has nothing to do with me. I didn’t do anything wrong, I didn’t elicit a certain response. People are just. . .people.
I’m not conveying it very well but I feel such relief because I finally know my part in things, and it’s not everything. I finally understand how much is my stuff and how much is other people’s stuff. What a relief to not constantly take ownership of other people’s flaws! What a relief to acknowledge where I went wrong and where other people went wrong! Not with judgment but with acceptance. What a relief to say, “Oh, I see, they’re being impulsive, or acting out their control issues, or miring in entitlement,” or whatever and realize it’s theirs. To be living completely attuned to myself. What a gift.
I dream of a world where we can recognize people as people. A world where we understand everyone is doing their best, everyone has their character kinks they’re working on. A world where we understand what belongs to us and what belongs to other people. A world where we live on our side of the street, knowing it’s more than enough to take care of.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
The Only One Judging Me is Me
“I’m wearing brown boots with a black jacket! People are going to judge me!” “I didn’t meditate as long as my friend! What’s he going to think?” Here’s a little secret: No one is judging me as much as I’m judging myself. People are generally self-centered creatures and more often than not are thinking about themselves. So while I’m contemplating judgment for pairing brown boots with a black jacket, the person I’m passing on the street is probably worrying about how people might judge her for wearing sunglasses while it’s cloudy.
I know it seems trivial but when I can finally let go of self-judgment (or even judging myself for how others will judge me) I get to show up in the world. I get to be me without fear of repercussions. I get to do what I feel is best. I get to know and experience joy because I’m doing what I want without fear of what others might think. It can be paralyzing, the fear of others’ judgment. Not wanting to step out of line because the neighbors will gossip. But really, it’s usually just me judging myself. And when it’s not, well, there’s an excellent Dr. Seuss quote that addresses that: “Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”
Yes. How true. Those that I love and who love me will not pass judgment on wearing brown boots with a black jacket, or for anything else my mind can think of. And if someone does think I’m a clueless fashion train wreck, I don’t necessarily want them in my life, now do I?
I suppose what I’m saying on a deeper level is the person who judges me the most is me. I’m my worst critic. I’m the one who berates myself, who says means things. And everyone else is doing the same. (At least I think they are. I’ve heard tale anyway.)
Where I am now is trying not to worry about what others think, yes, but also not worry about what I think others will think. It is safe for me to show up in the world. It is safe for me to express myself. It is safe for me to do things and say things and wear things that are in alignment with my heart without fear of judgment. I can give myself that permission, to be all that I can be. To rejoice in life. To accept myself as I am because honestly, no one really cares and the people who care aren’t worth associating with.
I have to admit I’ve been a bit scared to show my true colors, but I see now, I don’t have to be. Because the only one judging me is me.
I dream of a world where we stop judging ourselves and each other. A world where we know it’s safe to be ourselves. A world where we live life to the fullest, expressing the truest part of ourselves. A world where we love ourselves and each other. A world where we let ourselves be. A world where we give ourselves permission to do so.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I know it seems trivial but when I can finally let go of self-judgment (or even judging myself for how others will judge me) I get to show up in the world. I get to be me without fear of repercussions. I get to do what I feel is best. I get to know and experience joy because I’m doing what I want without fear of what others might think. It can be paralyzing, the fear of others’ judgment. Not wanting to step out of line because the neighbors will gossip. But really, it’s usually just me judging myself. And when it’s not, well, there’s an excellent Dr. Seuss quote that addresses that: “Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”
Yes. How true. Those that I love and who love me will not pass judgment on wearing brown boots with a black jacket, or for anything else my mind can think of. And if someone does think I’m a clueless fashion train wreck, I don’t necessarily want them in my life, now do I?
I suppose what I’m saying on a deeper level is the person who judges me the most is me. I’m my worst critic. I’m the one who berates myself, who says means things. And everyone else is doing the same. (At least I think they are. I’ve heard tale anyway.)
Where I am now is trying not to worry about what others think, yes, but also not worry about what I think others will think. It is safe for me to show up in the world. It is safe for me to express myself. It is safe for me to do things and say things and wear things that are in alignment with my heart without fear of judgment. I can give myself that permission, to be all that I can be. To rejoice in life. To accept myself as I am because honestly, no one really cares and the people who care aren’t worth associating with.
I have to admit I’ve been a bit scared to show my true colors, but I see now, I don’t have to be. Because the only one judging me is me.
I dream of a world where we stop judging ourselves and each other. A world where we know it’s safe to be ourselves. A world where we live life to the fullest, expressing the truest part of ourselves. A world where we love ourselves and each other. A world where we let ourselves be. A world where we give ourselves permission to do so.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Age is Just a Marker
I have this “thing” about age and success. I am riotously envious of those who are young and successful. Success in this sense means they wrote a best-selling book or started a business or head up a major department at work. It may seem strange for me to talk about success when only a few weeks ago I wrote a post about how only love is real. I do believe only love is real, but at the same time I know I am here to birth certain creative projects, and I have a desire to see them succeed. I feel envious of people (even fictional ones!) who are doing well for themselves under the age of 30. Somehow in my mind if you’re successful and you’re young, it’s a double whammy. A double achievement.
There are many issues I could touch on here – how success may be defined in numerous ways, how success doesn’t guarantee untold bliss and happiness – but what I’d like to focus on is the link to age. Why is it such a big deal for me? So what if some kid became a millionaire at age 12? So what if someone started up a billion dollar company and retired at age 32? Does age really matter? Why is youth such a trophy?
You know what? It’s not. Ultimately age is not important, it’s just a marker of when something was accomplished. I can take out my pressing need to do things quickly and while in the bloom of youth because really it’s the idea, the project, the art that’s most important. When I focus on age I lose sight of that. Yes, only love is real, but I am a human and I was put on this Earth to engage. To be a conduit for the divine and transmit certain messages. That’s what’s important. Not when I transmit them. “When” doesn’t ultimately matter as much as showing up for my part. If I accomplish something sooner it doesn't make it more valuable. Let me say that again. If I accomplish something at the age of 15 or at 50 neither is better than the other.
Admitting “when” something is accomplished is not important is difficult for me to accept because I’ve been focused on the “when” for so long. But honestly, I’ve known in my heart all along the creation is what’s matters most.
A friend of mine said to me years ago young people who join 12 step programs are so lucky because they spend fewer years acting out their addictions. My response to him was even experiencing one day of sobriety is a gift. It doesn’t matter when you become sober, just as long as you’re sober. The same can be applied to dreams I think. It doesn’t matter when you accomplish your dreams, as long as they are accomplished.
I can now release my want to do things immediately and before I’m 30 because I know there is plenty of time. I don’t have to rush. Everything falls into place when it’s supposed to, and the idea success is even greater if I’m young when it happens can drop off because that’s all in my mind. I don’t have to believe that anymore. And I have the same wish for others.
I dream of a world where we all lose our hang up with time. A world where we understand “when” doesn’t matter, as long as our heart and soul’s desire comes to fruition. A world where we understand perhaps benevolent forces are at work that have a broader perspective about “when” it’s best for something to manifest. A world where we live freely without comparison and judgment. A world where allow ourselves to be, to dream, to achieve, knowing whenever our projects manifest is when they’re supposed to.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
There are many issues I could touch on here – how success may be defined in numerous ways, how success doesn’t guarantee untold bliss and happiness – but what I’d like to focus on is the link to age. Why is it such a big deal for me? So what if some kid became a millionaire at age 12? So what if someone started up a billion dollar company and retired at age 32? Does age really matter? Why is youth such a trophy?
You know what? It’s not. Ultimately age is not important, it’s just a marker of when something was accomplished. I can take out my pressing need to do things quickly and while in the bloom of youth because really it’s the idea, the project, the art that’s most important. When I focus on age I lose sight of that. Yes, only love is real, but I am a human and I was put on this Earth to engage. To be a conduit for the divine and transmit certain messages. That’s what’s important. Not when I transmit them. “When” doesn’t ultimately matter as much as showing up for my part. If I accomplish something sooner it doesn't make it more valuable. Let me say that again. If I accomplish something at the age of 15 or at 50 neither is better than the other.
Admitting “when” something is accomplished is not important is difficult for me to accept because I’ve been focused on the “when” for so long. But honestly, I’ve known in my heart all along the creation is what’s matters most.
A friend of mine said to me years ago young people who join 12 step programs are so lucky because they spend fewer years acting out their addictions. My response to him was even experiencing one day of sobriety is a gift. It doesn’t matter when you become sober, just as long as you’re sober. The same can be applied to dreams I think. It doesn’t matter when you accomplish your dreams, as long as they are accomplished.
I can now release my want to do things immediately and before I’m 30 because I know there is plenty of time. I don’t have to rush. Everything falls into place when it’s supposed to, and the idea success is even greater if I’m young when it happens can drop off because that’s all in my mind. I don’t have to believe that anymore. And I have the same wish for others.
I dream of a world where we all lose our hang up with time. A world where we understand “when” doesn’t matter, as long as our heart and soul’s desire comes to fruition. A world where we understand perhaps benevolent forces are at work that have a broader perspective about “when” it’s best for something to manifest. A world where we live freely without comparison and judgment. A world where allow ourselves to be, to dream, to achieve, knowing whenever our projects manifest is when they’re supposed to.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Why I Became Physical
Sometimes I wish I was born as a wealthy princess, married to a handsome prince, and my only responsibility was to read books and go for walks. Sometimes I think if only things were a certain way then life would be so grand. But since that’s not my life, I’ve wanted to do as much good as I can, burn as many individual units of karma as possible, and get the heck out of dodge. Because the whole point of human life is to get to Heaven as quickly as possible! Oh wait, that’s not right.
At a particularly low time in my life, a good friend of mine said, “You can’t have the sweet without the sour.” I brushed off his statement because it seemed like a cliché thing to say. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, the world’s about balance. Blah, blah, blah.” What I didn’t realize at the time is you can’t have the sweet without the sour. I didn’t understand it’s the contrast that allows me to experience the sweet. If I had sugar all the time I wouldn’t even know it was sweet because I would become so acclimated to the taste it would become bland. I didn’t realize in order for me to experience joy, I also have to know sorrow. That there can be no “good” without “bad” because oftentimes states of being are defined by what they’re not. How can I know what bliss is if I haven’t experienced misery?
I think about that joke where two fish are swimming in the ocean. The first fish turns to the other and says, “The water’s really warm today.” The other fish says, “What’s water?” If I lived in a constant state of bliss I wouldn’t know what bliss is, much like those fish. So that is why I became physical. To experience all of it. The peaks, the valleys. The joys, the sorrows. Everything in between. Because only I, in my physical body, get to experience that. Angels, divine beings, they don’t get to experience any of it. They don’t know the thrill of ice skating or holding hands with their beloved. But I do. So this is it. The greatest ride of all. Being human. There is no heaven the way I’ve interpreted it. There is no time when I get to feel any better than I do right now. There is no time when I get to experience constant bliss, because when bliss is constant it ceases to be bliss.
I became physical so I could know all this. So I could feel all of my emotions, not just the good ones. A part of me wants to feel high all the time, doesn’t want to ever feel sad or hurt ever again. I understand now I can’t know the joy of a reunion without first experiencing a separation. I can’t understand the joys of eating unless I’ve been hungry. I entered the world to watch birds swooping in and out of traffic, to gaze at bright yellow taxis and tall redwood trees. I became physical to know the joy of a little girl racing toward me with open arms saying, “Auntie!” That’s it. I came for the experience, not the outcome.
I don’t know that I’m making any sense, but much like Licia Berry wrote in her blog, I’m recognizing my spiritual life is experiential in nature. That enlightenment and bliss are not things that happen at the end of my life after I’ve stood on my head and prayed a million times, but rather states of being accessible for me in the here and now. Because you can’t have the sweet without the sour.
I dream of a world where we allow ourselves to experience everything. A world where we know the thrill of love and the pain of separation. A world where we understand the sacredness, and the treasure, of being human because no other creature gets to experience the rollercoaster we do. A world where we have fun, enjoy life, and understand what it means to be physical.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
At a particularly low time in my life, a good friend of mine said, “You can’t have the sweet without the sour.” I brushed off his statement because it seemed like a cliché thing to say. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, the world’s about balance. Blah, blah, blah.” What I didn’t realize at the time is you can’t have the sweet without the sour. I didn’t understand it’s the contrast that allows me to experience the sweet. If I had sugar all the time I wouldn’t even know it was sweet because I would become so acclimated to the taste it would become bland. I didn’t realize in order for me to experience joy, I also have to know sorrow. That there can be no “good” without “bad” because oftentimes states of being are defined by what they’re not. How can I know what bliss is if I haven’t experienced misery?
I think about that joke where two fish are swimming in the ocean. The first fish turns to the other and says, “The water’s really warm today.” The other fish says, “What’s water?” If I lived in a constant state of bliss I wouldn’t know what bliss is, much like those fish. So that is why I became physical. To experience all of it. The peaks, the valleys. The joys, the sorrows. Everything in between. Because only I, in my physical body, get to experience that. Angels, divine beings, they don’t get to experience any of it. They don’t know the thrill of ice skating or holding hands with their beloved. But I do. So this is it. The greatest ride of all. Being human. There is no heaven the way I’ve interpreted it. There is no time when I get to feel any better than I do right now. There is no time when I get to experience constant bliss, because when bliss is constant it ceases to be bliss.
I became physical so I could know all this. So I could feel all of my emotions, not just the good ones. A part of me wants to feel high all the time, doesn’t want to ever feel sad or hurt ever again. I understand now I can’t know the joy of a reunion without first experiencing a separation. I can’t understand the joys of eating unless I’ve been hungry. I entered the world to watch birds swooping in and out of traffic, to gaze at bright yellow taxis and tall redwood trees. I became physical to know the joy of a little girl racing toward me with open arms saying, “Auntie!” That’s it. I came for the experience, not the outcome.
I don’t know that I’m making any sense, but much like Licia Berry wrote in her blog, I’m recognizing my spiritual life is experiential in nature. That enlightenment and bliss are not things that happen at the end of my life after I’ve stood on my head and prayed a million times, but rather states of being accessible for me in the here and now. Because you can’t have the sweet without the sour.
I dream of a world where we allow ourselves to experience everything. A world where we know the thrill of love and the pain of separation. A world where we understand the sacredness, and the treasure, of being human because no other creature gets to experience the rollercoaster we do. A world where we have fun, enjoy life, and understand what it means to be physical.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Only Love Is Real
Last night I watched The Social Network. Seeing how much Mark Zuckerberg (the creator of Facebook) has accomplished at such a young age brought on a deluge of ego-centric thoughts. “Why haven’t I done as much? How come I’m not as successful as he is? I want to do big things too! I want to make a splash and be important!”
A couple of thoughts. One, there are all kinds of success. Two, it doesn’t matter how many “important” things I do, the feeling of worth has to come from within. I don’t need to make billions in order to look in the mirror and say, “Rebekah, you matter.”
But that’s not what I want to talk about.
Shortly after finishing the movie, I logged onto facebook (ironically) and found a link to my friends’ kiirtan band. They had uploaded a new tune and after singing along with them I started crying because I realized this is all that matters. This feeling, right now. The knowledge that only love is real. The feeling of complete oneness and peace. The upwelling of love in my heart that expressed itself as tears. This is actually all I want. Not billions of dollars, not fame, not well-behaved children and a doting husband, but this. This feeling. The exquisite emotion of love pouring through me and to me.
Listening to my friends’ tune, I felt all my ego thoughts get stripped away. I understood I will never be the youngest billionaire or the best whatever because I have different priorities. Only love is real and real love is all I want. I’m shooting for bliss, not fame and fortune.
This is kind of a rambling post but I guess I’m saying it’s nice to refocus my priorities. To remind myself I’m not striving for a fancy car or a big house. Ultimately, I want to wake up every morning feeling happy and content because I’m following my heart. I’m using my gifts and my passions to help create a better world. I’m entrenched in the notion that only love is real. Because really, only love is real. Everything else is my mind getting caught up in the hubbub.
I dream of a world where we remember only love is real and center our lives on that notion. A world where we remember fame and fortune will not fulfill us, just distract us for a while. A world where we live each day with love, in love, for love.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
A couple of thoughts. One, there are all kinds of success. Two, it doesn’t matter how many “important” things I do, the feeling of worth has to come from within. I don’t need to make billions in order to look in the mirror and say, “Rebekah, you matter.”
But that’s not what I want to talk about.
Shortly after finishing the movie, I logged onto facebook (ironically) and found a link to my friends’ kiirtan band. They had uploaded a new tune and after singing along with them I started crying because I realized this is all that matters. This feeling, right now. The knowledge that only love is real. The feeling of complete oneness and peace. The upwelling of love in my heart that expressed itself as tears. This is actually all I want. Not billions of dollars, not fame, not well-behaved children and a doting husband, but this. This feeling. The exquisite emotion of love pouring through me and to me.
Listening to my friends’ tune, I felt all my ego thoughts get stripped away. I understood I will never be the youngest billionaire or the best whatever because I have different priorities. Only love is real and real love is all I want. I’m shooting for bliss, not fame and fortune.
This is kind of a rambling post but I guess I’m saying it’s nice to refocus my priorities. To remind myself I’m not striving for a fancy car or a big house. Ultimately, I want to wake up every morning feeling happy and content because I’m following my heart. I’m using my gifts and my passions to help create a better world. I’m entrenched in the notion that only love is real. Because really, only love is real. Everything else is my mind getting caught up in the hubbub.
I dream of a world where we remember only love is real and center our lives on that notion. A world where we remember fame and fortune will not fulfill us, just distract us for a while. A world where we live each day with love, in love, for love.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Waiting for the Right One
This week I fell into a tizzy. I submitted the first 10 pages of my book Just a Girl From Kansas to a professional copyeditor and she chopped out all the parts I felt were important. It wasn’t so much her suggested edits but her deletions that got to me. I felt like she didn’t “get” me at all. I cried about it, I wrung my hands, I went into a tailspin questioning my abilities as a writer. Perhaps this copyeditor knew better than I did. After all, she is a professional. Maybe I better listen to her and disregard my intuition.
. . .
No. Just no. Copyediting, like all other relationships, requires the right match. I sent the first 10 pages to a former colleague of mine who’s also a copyeditor, and she got it. She got me. I wasn’t bothered by her changes because she kept my heart intact. I didn’t feel threatened or insecure. I felt pretty comfortable, actually. Obviously my former colleague is a better match for me.
Prior to this experience, I thought a copyeditor was a copyeditor was a copyeditor. “You mean they’re not interchangeable? You mean they don’t all do the same thing?” No silly girl everyone is different and does things differently! I mean of course I had to find the right person to copyedit my book. Just like I’ve had to find the right person with all my relationships.
I used to think just any person could be my best friend. As long as they said I was their best friend and they were mine, nothing else mattered. I didn’t care so much about the person themselves as the role they played. The role was the most important part for me. I had an empty cast list I needed filling. “Pull ‘em off the street! I don’t care!”
Perhaps it’s a part of growing up, or building self-esteem, but I’m not interested in contorting myself to please others anymore. I’m not interested in compromising myself just to keep someone else around. Just so I can check off a box in my cast list. Because the right person really does make a difference. The right person really is worth waiting for. I can spend time gnawing at my fingernails and kowtowing to other people, or I can say, “No thanks,” and find someone who meets my needs. My part is feeling ok with the blank space.
I’m not going to regale you with the beauty of waiting for the right person and how it’s so much better when you do, because we’ve all heard it before. What I will say is I’m worth it. I’m worthy of waiting for the right person. I have enough self-esteem to say no to people and situations that do not serve me. I have value and my feelings matter. How I feel means something and I don’t need to justify myself to anyone else or try to bend my will to theirs when it feels wrong.
The role is not most important. The person is. So I’m willing to wait. I’m willing to wait for what I want. I’m willing to let go of the people who aren’t it while I keep searching for the person who is. I’m willing to be ok with the vacancies because I know, even from this small example, the incorrect match is far more painful than not having anyone at all.
I dream of a world where we are willing to wait for the right person for all situations. A world where we have enough self-esteem and pride that we trust ourselves and our intuition. A world where we’re content with waiting because it’s far less painful than wearing shoes that pinch your toes.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
. . .
No. Just no. Copyediting, like all other relationships, requires the right match. I sent the first 10 pages to a former colleague of mine who’s also a copyeditor, and she got it. She got me. I wasn’t bothered by her changes because she kept my heart intact. I didn’t feel threatened or insecure. I felt pretty comfortable, actually. Obviously my former colleague is a better match for me.
Prior to this experience, I thought a copyeditor was a copyeditor was a copyeditor. “You mean they’re not interchangeable? You mean they don’t all do the same thing?” No silly girl everyone is different and does things differently! I mean of course I had to find the right person to copyedit my book. Just like I’ve had to find the right person with all my relationships.
I used to think just any person could be my best friend. As long as they said I was their best friend and they were mine, nothing else mattered. I didn’t care so much about the person themselves as the role they played. The role was the most important part for me. I had an empty cast list I needed filling. “Pull ‘em off the street! I don’t care!”
Perhaps it’s a part of growing up, or building self-esteem, but I’m not interested in contorting myself to please others anymore. I’m not interested in compromising myself just to keep someone else around. Just so I can check off a box in my cast list. Because the right person really does make a difference. The right person really is worth waiting for. I can spend time gnawing at my fingernails and kowtowing to other people, or I can say, “No thanks,” and find someone who meets my needs. My part is feeling ok with the blank space.
I’m not going to regale you with the beauty of waiting for the right person and how it’s so much better when you do, because we’ve all heard it before. What I will say is I’m worth it. I’m worthy of waiting for the right person. I have enough self-esteem to say no to people and situations that do not serve me. I have value and my feelings matter. How I feel means something and I don’t need to justify myself to anyone else or try to bend my will to theirs when it feels wrong.
The role is not most important. The person is. So I’m willing to wait. I’m willing to wait for what I want. I’m willing to let go of the people who aren’t it while I keep searching for the person who is. I’m willing to be ok with the vacancies because I know, even from this small example, the incorrect match is far more painful than not having anyone at all.
I dream of a world where we are willing to wait for the right person for all situations. A world where we have enough self-esteem and pride that we trust ourselves and our intuition. A world where we’re content with waiting because it’s far less painful than wearing shoes that pinch your toes.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
May The Force NOT Be With You
The force I reference in this title is not the Star Wars kind, but rather the kind that’s inside your head and probably a little mean. The force that’s in opposition to gentleness.
I like to force myself to do things all the time. “I don’t feel like walking all the way home, but I’m going to force myself because I need the exercise.” “I don’t want to go out tonight, but I’m going to force myself because I need to be social.” The list could go on. I usually force myself because I have the best of intentions, but do you see how in forcing myself there’s opposition? There’s the “I” that doesn’t want to do something, and then there’s the “I” that makes me anyway. I think it’s probably my ego trying to exert control because, well, that’s what the ego does.
What I’m noticing lately though is I’d rather be in complete alignment with myself. I’d rather treat myself with love and gentleness because also, I realize eventually I’ll have the willingness to do what I need to do. But instead of forcing myself, I’ll just want to.
Let me back up. When I first started meditating it was suggested to me I needed to meditate twice a day every day. I would force myself for about two weeks before my routine petered off and I just couldn’t anymore. My willpower deflated. Then my senior year of college I wanted to meditate that frequently just for my sanity. What with all the stress of graduating, living with roommates, and entering the “real” world I wanted to meditate every day, twice a day just so I could get through. That’s how it is with me. It’s the same way with yoga. My teacher came to me in a dream and told me to practice my yoga postures and I refused. Because I didn’t want to. Then three years ago, all of a sudden I wanted to, so I did.
I bring this up because today I went swimming for the first time in probably three years and it was glorious. I smiled to myself and skipped down the street on the way to the pool because, “I was going swimming! I was going swimming!” Prior to today I tried to force myself to go. To somehow work swimming into my already busy schedule, but it just wasn’t happening. And now it has.
I’m not sure I’m making sense, but I guess my point is I don’t have to force myself to do anything – not even brush my teeth – because I know one day, someday, I’ll want to do those things. And it’s true. I want to brush my teeth twice a day and floss every night. I don’t ever have to use force with myself. I don’t ever have to do things I don’t want to as long as I’m willing to live with the consequences, like cavities, or whatever the case may be. Eventually my want and my willingness always line up. So I don’t have to worry. I don’t have to contemplate adding a kung fu class to my life or learning bookkeeping or whatever the other million things are that I think are good for me that I “should” be doing. I just don’t. Eventually the willingness always manifests. And if it doesn’t, perhaps I’m not meant to engage.
I feel so much more at ease knowing I don’t have to ever rely on my ego or the “should” voice because everything lines up. The time, the willingness, the money. It all comes together in a magical package where force doesn’t come into play. So I can relax and let go, and instead allow myself to live in harmony.
I dream of a world where we all allow ourselves to be where we are. A world where we recognize eventually, if we’re supposed to, we’ll find the willingness to do the task at hand. A world where we can relax, knowing all is well.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I like to force myself to do things all the time. “I don’t feel like walking all the way home, but I’m going to force myself because I need the exercise.” “I don’t want to go out tonight, but I’m going to force myself because I need to be social.” The list could go on. I usually force myself because I have the best of intentions, but do you see how in forcing myself there’s opposition? There’s the “I” that doesn’t want to do something, and then there’s the “I” that makes me anyway. I think it’s probably my ego trying to exert control because, well, that’s what the ego does.
What I’m noticing lately though is I’d rather be in complete alignment with myself. I’d rather treat myself with love and gentleness because also, I realize eventually I’ll have the willingness to do what I need to do. But instead of forcing myself, I’ll just want to.
Let me back up. When I first started meditating it was suggested to me I needed to meditate twice a day every day. I would force myself for about two weeks before my routine petered off and I just couldn’t anymore. My willpower deflated. Then my senior year of college I wanted to meditate that frequently just for my sanity. What with all the stress of graduating, living with roommates, and entering the “real” world I wanted to meditate every day, twice a day just so I could get through. That’s how it is with me. It’s the same way with yoga. My teacher came to me in a dream and told me to practice my yoga postures and I refused. Because I didn’t want to. Then three years ago, all of a sudden I wanted to, so I did.
I bring this up because today I went swimming for the first time in probably three years and it was glorious. I smiled to myself and skipped down the street on the way to the pool because, “I was going swimming! I was going swimming!” Prior to today I tried to force myself to go. To somehow work swimming into my already busy schedule, but it just wasn’t happening. And now it has.
I’m not sure I’m making sense, but I guess my point is I don’t have to force myself to do anything – not even brush my teeth – because I know one day, someday, I’ll want to do those things. And it’s true. I want to brush my teeth twice a day and floss every night. I don’t ever have to use force with myself. I don’t ever have to do things I don’t want to as long as I’m willing to live with the consequences, like cavities, or whatever the case may be. Eventually my want and my willingness always line up. So I don’t have to worry. I don’t have to contemplate adding a kung fu class to my life or learning bookkeeping or whatever the other million things are that I think are good for me that I “should” be doing. I just don’t. Eventually the willingness always manifests. And if it doesn’t, perhaps I’m not meant to engage.
I feel so much more at ease knowing I don’t have to ever rely on my ego or the “should” voice because everything lines up. The time, the willingness, the money. It all comes together in a magical package where force doesn’t come into play. So I can relax and let go, and instead allow myself to live in harmony.
I dream of a world where we all allow ourselves to be where we are. A world where we recognize eventually, if we’re supposed to, we’ll find the willingness to do the task at hand. A world where we can relax, knowing all is well.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
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