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Convincing Means the Opposite

I know the title “Convincing means the opposite” doesn’t make much sense, but bear with me. Last week, I talked about being triggered due to seeing my neighbor’s door ajar and not knowing whether she was broken into. Well, she was. What’s interesting is I worked so hard to convince myself why she couldn’t have been broken into, why it wouldn’t make sense. I called up other people and had them convince me why it didn’t make sense either. I needed constant convincing because I didn’t believe it!

Convincing has become a good barometer for me now, as in, if I have to work hard to convince myself something is true, it’s probably not, and vice versa. This is a valuable lesson for me right now because I’m looking for a new place to live and I have convinced myself in the past to move into a place with disastrous consequences.

Intuition is like a lantern lighting your way.

I’d like us to use our intuition more. To have it be a lantern lighting our way. This gorgeous image is by Leah Piken Kolidas from CreativeEveryDay.com.

A few years ago I found an attic in-law apartment and I didn’t particularly like it. My description was, “It’s funky.” When it came to sign the lease I started to feel a bit panicky, I didn’t want to be locked into a year commitment. Obviously I knew something was off, but I talked myself into it saying, “Well, it’s in your price range, near public transportation, and the space is suitable for your needs. What more could you ask for?” It turns out what I bargained for was a yippy dog that bit me and drew blood, neighbors that played really loud music beneath me all the time, and a landlady that couldn’t care less about me. Not to mention the inability to do laundry at her residence.

I don’t regret my decision, not really, because it spurred me to live in Tucson for a month and then return to Washington, D.C., two things I’m grateful I was able to do and thoroughly enjoyed. However, convincing myself to move into a place that wasn’t right caused me a lot of angst and it’s only through grace that the lease was month-to-month and that I was able to have such a sweet experience afterward.

I guess I’m saying we need to give ourselves more credit. We know when something is right and when it’s not. And if we have to convince ourselves one way or another, to me, that’s a great indicator we’re doing ourselves a disservice. Whether it’s talking myself into buying a pair of jeans or signing a lease, I would do better to say yes only if I can say yes easily.

I dream of a world where we realize convincing means something is not right. A world where we listen to our inner guidance. A world where we realize we know more than we think we do. A world where we don’t let our rational minds overpower us. A world where we understand we already have all the answers that we seek and it’s a matter of getting quiet to listen.

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

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Trigger, Trigger, Boom

I am a firm believer that every repeat experience, every emotional overreaction, comes up so it can be healed and released. Having said that, I am also a slow learner and usually want to change my outside circumstances instead of determining what the internal, personal lesson is. However, the universe is tricky and makes sure I confront my stuff.

Yesterday, I went to water my neighbor’s garden and I noticed her back door was ajar, which it hadn’t been the day before. I immediately assumed the worst. “She must have been broken into! She’s been robbed and ransacked!” I don’t think she was robbed, it doesn’t really make sense that she was considering we’re in a gated community, nobody else reported a burglary, she’s at the back of the property, and somebody would have to know to walk to the back of the house to find a door. Anyway, I don’t know for sure, that answer will be revealed when I speak with her.

I’d like to think that explosions can also be good things, like supernovae creating something new.

The point is I freaked out. As in, inconsolable, shaken, incapable of much rational thought, unable to sleep or calm down. When I dug a little deeper I realized it’s not because I was worried about being broken into myself, but rather because I was having flashbacks. Almost two years ago, some friends of mine were broken into while I was housesitting for them. I was, and am, traumatized by the experience. Walking into a space with the back door ajar, ransacked, books thrown on the floor, drawers pulled out from the dresser, all the lights on, has been burned into my brain. So when I saw my neighbor’s door ajar, I wasn’t seeing her situation, I was reliving one from my past. That, my friends, is called a trigger.

I hadn’t realized I’d carried so much fear with me about the experience two years ago until yesterday. I thought I was over the whole thing but now I understand I’d only buried it. Instead of lamenting the possible break in, I see what’s really happening on my end is that I need to release this junk. I need to let the trauma out of my body and I’m thankful I have the tools like EMDR to do so. That’s the nature of triggers, they precede an explosion, and instead of running away from triggers, it’s far better for me to deal with them as they come up so I am no longer triggered with quite the same severity.

A million years ago a good friend of mine told me every moment of life is a love poem from my creator. I have to believe that also includes the “bad” stuff, the triggers, the hard moments, the things I’d rather push under the rug. My creator loves me so much that circumstances are created such that these things are not allowed to stay hidden. I am so loved my creator instead says, “Hey, Rebekah, you need to look at this.” And so I am.

I dream of a world where we confront our triggers as they come up. A world where we understand every moment is a love poem from our creator. A world where we shine a light on all our dark spots and seek the help we need, in whatever form that may take.

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

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Living in Fantasyland

I’m reposting this primarily because I need a reminder that the impossible is possible. In fact, the word “impossible” even says, “i’m possible” in it. I realize it may seem strange to emphasis that dreams come true, that what I want can be made manifest, when the cottage I reference in this post is the very one I’m moving out of as soon as I find something else, but I have no regrets. My cottage has served its purpose, it’s what I wanted at the time, it was everything I wished for or thought I could live with, and now it’s time for a new dream, for a new fantasy to come to life.

I’ve been accused on more than one occasion, and by more than one person, of “living in Dreamsville,” aka, Fantasyland, aka never gonna happen. I understand why people say this to me — because I dream big, because I ask for a lot, and because what I desire so often doesn’t match what other people think is possible. Here’s the thing though, what I want is absolutely possible, and in fact, comes true.

This looks like a nice place to live. Maybe I can live here.

If you’ve been reading “Another World is Probable” for a while, you know I’ve been a gypsy without a caravan for about a year and a half. I’ve moved apartments, cities, and coasts. I haven’t stayed in any one place for longer than four months since January of 2012. Last Monday I realized my dreams have changed and I no longer want to live in the city. Instead, I want to live where I can see trees outside my window, by myself, in a quiet place, but still close to things — shops, public transportation, etc. The kicker is I need to be able to afford it working part time in the most expensive area in the country. This dream was often scoffed at because it sounds unrealistic (understandably).

Well, on Thursday, I signed a lease on a place and it’s all those things and more. I’ll be living in a cottage by myself, within my price range, at a gated community, near public transportation, where I can see trees outside my window. When I walked into the cottage I cried. I cried because the place felt like home, but also because I was overwhelmed at seeing my dream come to life. I was overwhelmed at how the universe orchestrated to meet all my needs and more. I was overwhelmed that what other people deemed impossible was staring me in the face.

I bring this up not to chastise the people who tell me I live in Never Never Land, but because I think it’s important to realize our dreams are possible. That you can’t really dream “too big.” I’m not saying they’ll manifest overnight — heck, it’s taken me a year and a half to realize what I wanted and then receive it — but they do happen.

Dreams turning into reality are on my mind because I’m currently in Seattle for my mom’s graduation. My 64-year-old mother is graduating from medical school. It’s been a dream nearly 29 years in the making (she was pregnant with me when she started the prerequisites for med school) and now she’s graduating. My dear friend has a quote I believe he crafted himself, “Dreams may fade from view, dreams may be torn and bruised, but dreams never die.” And I would add to that, dreams come true if we work for them, if we keep the faith, and if we take the action steps to realize them.

I dream of a world where we all dream big and then watch those dreams turn into reality. A world where we understand it’s amazing to live in Dreamsville, and as John Lennon says, you’re not the only one. A world where we receive all the blessings the universe wants to bestow on us and more.

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

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May the Force NOT Be with You

I know I wrote a blog a few years ago with this same title, but I couldn’t resist using it again because today is May 4th and the next Star Wars cast recently came out. I mean, this title was practically begging to be used.

So, ahem, I’m looking for a new place to live (again!). Since I got back from Vienna in March, it’s been one thing after another with my cottage. Nothing major, little things like my internet not working, my toilet not flushing, my water getting turned off due to a sewer complication, etc. But it’s been enough to remind me, “I don’t like living here.” Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I moved in, this cottage has been great for what it was, for what I needed at the time, but now I’m ready for something different. Something better. Something more in line with my heart’s desires.

patience

I almost posted a Star Wars pic but I thought that would be overkill. . .

Coupled with my desire to leave is a wee bit of desperation and impatience (for good measure). Whenever I come across something on Craigslist that even remotely suits my needs (i.e. quiet, safe neighborhood, in my price range), I jump on it. If I can’t attend the open house, panic consumes me because, “What if this is my place to live and I’m missing out and nothing like it will show up again and then I’ll be stuck here forever and ever?” I liken it to Black Friday syndrome. You know that phenomenon when people wait outside a department store at 4 a.m. and as soon as the store opens they start grabbing stuff willy-nilly, even if the item is not exactly what they want, but it’s close, and they don’t want someone else to buy the item instead?

I feel that way about housing. The apartment may not be exactly what I’m looking for, but competition is fierce, and I want to move, and what if I don’t find anything better, so gosh darn it, I’ll take it! I have to keep reminding myself desperation and impatience have gotten me into some pickles in the past, so, no, I cannot force myself into saying yes because I’m afraid nothing better will come along.

I realize I’m picky about housing, and believe me, I wish I wasn’t, but a part of accepting myself as I am is realizing if I don’t live somewhere I love, nothing works properly in my life. My health suffers, my work suffers, my friendships suffer. Housing is the hub from which everything else emanates for me so I must not force myself to say yes to anything less than what my heart desires. I must wait until what I’m looking for comes along; reminding myself the world is abundant, despite what my mind tells me.

Obviously this applies not only to housing, but to everything. A million years ago I wrote my sister a birthday card and told her, “Never settle for anything because that’s exactly what you’ll get.” Compromises and adjustments need to be made, absolutely, but compromising is not the same thing as settling in my book.

I dream of a world where we don’t settle for anything less than what our hearts and souls desire. A world where we keep the faith, and have patience that we want will come along. A world where we don’t force ourselves to say “yes” out of fear and desperation, but because we really mean it.

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

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