Another World is Probable

The title for this post comes from a song a friend of mine wrote, which I’m embedding below:

I’ve been incredibly depressed this week, feeling hopeless about the state of humanity. Everywhere I looked it seemed the evils of society were reflected back to me and all I could think was, “What’s the point?” I can’t say I’m completely out of that melancholic spell, but what I’m realizing is being a good person isn’t good enough.

It’s not enough for me to be a law-abiding citizen and treat everyone with kindness. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s important to be kind to others, but it’s not enough to counter all the ugliness in the world. It’s not enough to eradicate all of the terrible things people do to each other. Being kind to my neighbor doesn’t go very far in reducing homelessness, poverty, and violence.

I think a part of my depression this week has been seeing passivity. I watched a movie and all the seemingly good people were slaughtered or went along with the bad guys because they were scared to do otherwise. I get that. I so get that because if someone held a gun to my head and told me to recite a script, I’d probably do the same thing. What I’m realizing though is if we, the good people, don’t band together, don’t rise up and get in touch with our warrior selves, we’ll keep getting mowed down. The bad guys will carry on doing what they’re doing because there’s nobody to stand up to them. There’s nobody to stop them.

I love superhero movies (they’re my favorite genre actually), but as much as I kind of wish Thor would descend to Earth and save us from ourselves, I don’t see any evidence of that happening soon. Batman is more of a possibility because he’s human, but why should all the work fall on his shoulders? My spiritual teacher says, and this is paraphrasing, that the strength of five good people is more than the united strength of a hundred immoral people. I take that to mean if we all unite together we can overpower the dark forces in the world. We can stop the terrors and tortures, but it requires more than showing up for work on time.

I don’t know how to do this, and that’s a part of my frustration. I don’t know how to engage in the world in such a way that I’m stopping people from inflicting malice on others. I don’t know how to move beyond being a good person, but I’d like to believe speaking up and speaking out is a part of it, and engaging in service for society whenever I can is another. I’d also like to believe that if we, the good people, put our heads together that we can come up solutions.

I dream of a world where the good people of the world unite to keep the immoral people in check. A world where we help each other out and refuse to sit idly by as we watch atrocities continue to happen. A world where we realize being good isn’t good enough.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I take life very seriously (I also take myself seriously). I get caught up in the drama of what’s happening, the upheaval, the “what’s next.” I surround myself with light-hearted, playful people to remind myself life is more comedic than I make it out to be.

A while back, this great picture circulated around facebook:

You’re so right Kermit.

Yeah. We’re not going to get out alive anyway, so why take everything so seriously? It’s not going to matter in the end. Sometimes I feel like I’m getting tossed about by the ocean’s currents, flailing this way and that, but instead of thrashing about, I’d prefer to dive deep, to not be so affected by the waves.

A meditation I’ve been doing lately is a mountain meditation where I imagine myself as a mountain and then think about all the weather patterns a mountain experiences. Does a mountain disintegrate because of a thunderstorm? Because the wind is howling? No. And the weather pattern passes. It’s the same with the majority of life’s problems. They seem major! Life-changing! Dramatic! But really they’re not so serious.

A friend and I recounted a story of how several years ago we were called demons in human form. The person we relayed this story to said, “Oh really? How lovely. What kind of demon?” Instead of being outraged on our behalf, he took away the power of the insult by trivializing it because obviously my friend and I aren’t demons in human form so why not play with it?

There’s an expression I think about a lot: “If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.” So often I cry, but I’d much rather laugh. Life is so much more enjoyable that way, don’t you think?

I dream of a world where we take ourselves and our lives less seriously. A world where we play more. A world where we laugh more. A world where we are less affected by the events of the day or week. A world where we remember things are not as dramatic as they may seem.

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

On Thursday, I walked through the intersection where I was hit by a car for the very first time since the accident. Up until Thursday I walked by the site (as in, on the other side of the street) but never through the site. As I approached the exact intersection, I felt a whisper of anxiety and that was it. No panic, no becoming paralyzed. I faced my fear head on and I walked through it. In addition to feeling proud of myself, I was reminded how the things that bugged me months ago no longer bug me. How my problems of yesterday (so to speak) are no longer problems today, and this gives me hope for the future.

So often I get stuck in “forever” thinking. As in, if things are like this now, they’ll be like this forevaaaa. Especially in the moments where I have anxiety or depression or fear, it’s a challenge to remind myself, “This too shall pass,” because to me, it seems like the situation or feeling is interminable. I’m starting to disengage from this as I remember the only truth about a thought is it’s a thought, and now I think I’m taking it a step further by having hope life will get better.

I like this picture as I think it captures hope and the future at the same time.

I am indeed still planning for joy, and a part of that is employing some perspective because things change all the time. Problems get solved, new circumstances arise, and life goes on.

I want things to get better now, but as a friend keeps reminding me, “We look at our watches and God looks at the calendar,” as in things do change, but not necessarily on my timeline. That’s true. I’ve seen lots of changes in myself and my friends, but it has taken time. I have a friend who in her 20s barely made enough money to support herself, and now in her 30s she’s an entrepreneur and recently returned from a trip to Bali. Jeremy Renner was a makeup artist before he became a movie star.

Things change and they often change for the better. I need to keep reminding myself of that, keep holding onto hope for the future, because otherwise I’ll dissolve into a tear-stricken, soppy mess. A friend posted a picture on facebook about a month ago (that I can no longer find) that said something like, “Suicide may keep things from getting worse, but it also prevents them from getting better.” I’m not suicidal, but I appreciated the statement because, yeah, there’s always hope things will get better and I’m seeing more and more evidence that they do.

I dream of a world where we all hold onto our hope for the future. A world where we remember the things that troubled us in the past no longer trouble us now and it’s likely the trend will continue. A world where we look on the bright side of life.

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

A million years ago I saw a refrigerator magnet that said, “You are what you think so choose your thoughts wisely!” I obviously agree with this sentiment – up to a point. A very wise friend said to me once, “The only true thing about a thought is that it’s a thought.” Yes.

I can get very attached to my thoughts, especially the negative ones. I can start to believe the ugly voices in my mind and it’s not always so easy to flip them to positive ones. Sometimes it’s easier to remember I am not what I think and I am not what I identify with. Giving myself some distance allows me to feel better because it’s true – I am not my thoughts, I am beyond my thoughts.

The point of the meditation I practice is to remind myself I am an expression of an infinite loving consciousness – I’m trying to reach a point beyond thought, beyond drama, beyond anything other than pure and perfect love. So no, I am not the insecure child within me, I am not the drama queen, I am not the writer, I am not any of the labels I adhere to because ultimately I am beyond them, I am more than them.

I really can’t express that in words because who I am is also beyond words, so instead I will leave you with a picture as a reminder. Whenever I look at images of space I am reminded I am more than this body, this mind, this life. I am that.

Horse head nebula region. To get the full effect, this needs to be viewed on a full screen.

I dream of a world where we remember we are not our thoughts. A world where we detach from our mind’s dramas. A world where we frequently put ourselves in a place beyond words and beyond time. A world where we feel with utmost certainty who and what we really are.

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

A few weeks ago I listened to a radio show by Radleigh Valentine and he said on average people laugh 15 times a day. Fifteen times! And then he asked, “Do you remember if you laughed at all yesterday?” He pointed out it’s easy to remember the unpleasant things – the times we’re sad or scared or anxious – but the joyful times, the laughing times, are easier to forget. He encouraged his listeners to take note of when they laugh, to see if it adds up to 15 times. And then he said something really interesting: Plan for joy.

Radleigh does angel tarot and he suggested printing out this card as a reminder to plan for joy.

When he said, “Plan for joy” I wanted to pause his radio show so I could take that in. It hasn’t occurred to me lately I would need to plan for joy – I assumed joy would sort of happen if I bumbled around in my life. But you know? That’s not true – I mean, sure, I stumble across joy every once and a while like an adventurer coming into a clearing – but it wasn’t necessarily something I planned for. I assumed I’d experience joy once my life was peachy keen – when my financial situation improved, the love of my life came along, etc. I think you know this already, but joy is the quiet moments, the small events that we may not remember long after they happen. It’s having a friend call you up spontaneously asking to hang out. It’s laughing along with a television show. It’s finding out the book you put on hold at the library has become available.

Joy can be spontaneous but it can also be planned and that’s what struck me the most about Radleigh’s show. In an interesting juxtaposition, I had a powerful therapy session this week. I went from fearful, anxious, and insecure in one moment to laughing, goofy, and joyful in the next. My therapist had me remember a moment I felt joyful, loved, appreciated and embody it. Notice what colors I associated with the experience and then she asked me if a movement or sound accompanied it. It did – joy for me looks like strutting with my toes flexed and my heels out singing along to “Let’s go fly a kite” or Life of Brian’s “Always look on the bright side of life.”

What amazes me is no matter how icky I feel, strutting around my cottage and singing “Always look on the bright side of life,” automatically puts a smile on my face and lifts my mood. I can be melodramatic and get caught up in what’s wrong with my life. Lately, like I wrote on my birthday, I’m noticing what’s right. I’m seeking joy even in the midst of the things I do not like. And I’m remembering joy is not winning the lottery or buying a new car, it’s humming to myself while I walk, it’s remembering all the times I laughed yesterday, it’s making an active effort to improve my mood because I am planning for joy.

I dream of a world where we remember we can access joy at any time. A world where we all have that one song that brings a smile to our face. A world where we remember the times we laugh. A world where we not only experience joy, but we plan for it.

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