It has come to my attention this week that everything I'm afraid of happening has happened. It's left me feeling like a victim, asking myself, "Why me? Why is life doing this to me?" It made me want to run away and hide, to get as far away from my fears as possible. And yet, there was still an element of life imposing itself on me. For instance, whenever I've heard loud music playing lately I've wanted to retreat into myself. I've cried so many tears of fear, pain, and victimization, dreaming of living in a soundproof bubble, not understanding where my power lies. Victimhood strips me of that power, but last week it all changed.
I'm not going to say, "Everything is better and I never feel like a victim now," but I will say I no longer identify quite so strongly with the victim place. Once I realized all of my fears have manifested I took a step back and said, "Wait a minute. This is happening because of me. Life is reacting to me, I'm not reacting to it! I am a powerful being and I am co-creating all of this!" And that has made all the difference; it's helped me to regain my power.
I love this picture of Nike, the goddess of victory, because it seems to both embody the victim (she has no head) and the victor (she’s still standing proud).
I had a sinking feeling last weekend would be horrible noise-wise because all the Berkeley students would have finished their finals and graduated. I was terrified there would be a loud party and that I wouldn't be able to sleep. That probably sounds silly, being terrified of noise, but when you've been as consistently sleep deprived as I've been, that's what happens. So the party. It happened. And instead of going into my fear and panic place, my crying, "Why is this happening to me? How can I make it stop?" place, I started repeating over and over again, "I am powerless over my need to control and my life is unmanageable." And then I started saying, "Everything is Brahma (aka, God, the universe, the supreme)." Once I got into a calm and centered place, realizing that no, actually I cannot fall asleep with loud and pulsing bass music — I finally called the police after asking my neighbors to turn down their music to no avail. Calling the police wasn't a reactive thing. It wasn't an angry, spiteful, or fearful thing. It was a, "This is the only plausible next right action. This is what has to happen," thing.
In that moment, my sense of empowerment and agency came back. I didn't feel like a victim anymore. I felt powerful because, you know, there are some things I cannot change and have to accept, like the hum of my refrigerator. But there are other things I do not; and hearing loud, pulsing bass music at 3 a.m. is one of them.
I've been afraid to work on manifesting because I haven't wanted to add more samskaras to my life (people in the West say karma). I haven't wanted to get weighed down by all my desires and so I've been manifesting from a place of a victim. But the point is I've still been manifesting. It happened even though I didn't want it to. As a victor, manifesting means surrendering my everything to the divine and trusting I will be taken care of, that all my needs will be met. It means the universe already knows everything I desire so I don't have to ask because instead I trust I will receive everything that's in my best interest. That I will be given anything and everything that's required so I may accomplish my life's purpose. In essence, it's taking my public declaration of trust a step further and saying, "Not only do I trust in my creator, but I trust everything I want and need for my spiritual growth will be given to me."
I dream of a world where we choose the victor over the victim. A world where we understand we are powerful beings who steer our lives. A world where we feel empowered by our choices and understand we always have a part to play in the events of our lives. A world where we realize we're manifesting everything and the best thing we can do is surrender it all and trust all of our needs will always be met.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
Because the universe always communicates with us, this week I've been receiving messages about healing my childhood stuff and really taking the time to set the course for who I want to be and where I want to go.
A friend posted on facebook the following video by Meg Jay on how 30 is not the new 20:
I love this video because it names what I've felt instinctually to be true: that our 20s set the course for the rest of our lives. They're like a plane just starting its ascent — it's so much easier to make a few adjustments at the beginning to ensure we end up in Bali than when we're just about to land in Bangladesh.
Even if you, personally, are not in your 20s, I'm sure you know someone who is who would benefit from the guidance Meg is imparting. There's this idea in the U.S. that somehow our 20s are trivial, that they're the time to wait tables in Buenos Aires and fall in love with all the wrong people because somehow it "doesn't count."
I love Meg's retort to that: there's a difference between exploration and procrastination. I agree wholeheartedly. To bring this back to me, what I sense about this time period is my person is being formed. My adult person. I know that what I'm doing now is determining how I will live and who I will spend time with. I'm building my identity capital by doing things that are important to me and I am picking my family. Even though I'm not married, I'm picking who I'll be in relation with, who I'll be an auntie to, who will be a part of my community.
I'm having some trouble articulating myself tonight because I'm quite tired, but her talk fires me up because it emphasizes to me there's no such thing as "later." What we do now defines our future. Her video emphasizes how important our 20s are and they're a point of power and change. I don't know how many times I've heard people say, "I wish I knew _____ when I was in my 20s." Let's make sure we don't have to say that again and let's make sure the 20-somethings in our lives hear such wisdom.
I dream of a world where we share the wisdom we know. A world where we realize the point of power is always in the now. A world where we make the most of all the time we have. A world where we embrace where we are yet make adjustments as needed.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
I think I've written an iteration of this blogpost a thousand times, but I have to write what's true for me and this week it's been all about how the universe knows what I need even before I do sometimes.
I posted this on facebook a few days ago so many of you have already read this, but when I was in Washington, D.C. a few months ago somebody gave me a magnet. My reaction was, "Great. Like I need any more stuff." However, I kept it because I couldn't bring myself to throw it away.
When I typed “being taken care of” into google images this is what I found. It was too quirky to pass up.
On Tuesday, I moved into my sublet in Berkeley. It's a really cute apartment, but the guy I'm renting from is very minimalistic. There's no cheese grater, cookie sheet, hell, he didn't even leave me any pens. As I unpacked, I came across my magnet and I stuck it up on the bare refrigerator. As soon as the magnet touched the surface a wave of feeling swept over me. I choked up because I realized the magnet was given to me months in advance for this very moment when I would need it. To know the universe loves and supports me, in ways I don't even fathom yet, really touched me. To see that I'm being taken care of in even such a small way turned on the water works.
I love this story because I can extrapolate this small event for the bigger stuff. As I said, I'm subletting, so that means I still have to find a permanent place to live. (And permanent in this case means at least a year.) I have some anxiety about it because what I want seems nigh impossible: affordable, spacious, and in a good location? Most people would say I'd be lucky to have two of those things. To see how the universe is taking care of me in a very real way gives me hope that my beautiful apartment will also manifest. And it gives me hope I'll be taken care of in ways I can't even predict yet.
I dream of a world where we know we're all taken care of. A world where we know all of our needs will always be met even if the setup has to happen in advance. A world where we rest easy, joyous and free because we know the universe will always provide for us if we ask.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.