More and more I’m noticing that what we all want is to be seen, heard, and understood. We want people to empathize with us, to recognize what we’re going through and trying to express.
This week I had some angry interactions with others. They became upset over something that involved me, but wasn’t really about me. My first reaction when someone explodes in my direction is to cower, to take it in. My next reaction is to become angry in return, to meet anger with anger. Finally, I turn to empathy and say, “I hear what you’re saying. It sounds like you feel _____.” When I’m able to get to that empathic place, the person cools down and says, “You’re right, that’s exactly how I feel,” and then we’re able to have an honest conversation. The honest conversation is where the solutions come from.
A friend told me recently the hardest part about relationships for her is going deeper when she’s wounded. That instead of running away from her partner when he gets upset, or trying to hurt him back, is getting to that empathic, vulnerable place. I found that to be true for me too, especially when I’d much rather throttle the person’s neck. I’m not saying anger doesn’t have its place – it absolutely does – but sometimes its better to express anger to a neutral third party. Instead of escalating a heated situation, it’s often better to call up someone else and vent.
I find this to be true for other emotions too. When I’m sad, sometimes I want someone to tell me things will be OK, or to help me problem solve, but oftentimes I’d rather someone said, “I hear you. That sucks,” and then let me cry. I usually know what I need to do so I’d much rather have support than advice.
I first wrote about empathic listening or nonviolent communication in 2009. I’ve been using some of the methods I picked up ever since and find it just as inspiring now as I did then.
What I find so encouraging about empathic listening is its potential for huge and lasting change. It’s been used to reduce violence in hospitals and curb bullying. Plus Marshall Rosenberg, the founder of nonviolent communication, negotiated peace deals with terrorists using the method. I can’t help but wonder how much of the violence in the world is because people are not getting their needs met? How often are we resorting to angry words and louder voices in an effort to get people to understand where we’re coming from? Not everything can be solved with empathic listening of course, but I honestly think some problems can.
I dream of a world where we make an effort to see, hear, and understand each other better. A world where instead of firing off an angry invective, we try to access an empathic place. A world where we bring more love into our conversations, especially the hard ones. A world where we can honestly say we do hear one another.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Yesterday, I watched a woman park in the bus zone for 15 solid minutes. Her car was off, she got out, put her shoes in the trunk, and basically couldn’t care less that she was doing something illegal. I kept thinking she parked in the bus zone because she had car trouble but no, eventually her friend sauntered out of the BART station and the woman started her car – slowly, I might add – and took her sweet time leaving.
I was floored. In that same situation, I know I would have been fidgety, glancing over my shoulder every two seconds waiting for a bus or a cop car to pull up. I can’t help but contrast this woman’s behavior with mine, someone who cares too much.
Last week, I flew home from Vienna where I sat in a window seat. Luckily, there was no one in the middle seat, but there was a woman in the aisle seat. I have to go to the bathroom approximately every hour, and on a six-hour flight, it can be obnoxious for the people who have to keep getting up for me. I noticed the woman started getting huffy and I began caring about what she thought of me. A stranger. A person I will never see again. I wanted this woman to like me, to not get upset with me, to hold me in positive regard, and so I resolved to use the bathroom less. That is, until I realized my bladder wasn’t having any of that and got up anyway in as polite and gracious a way as I could muster.
The experience got me thinking about how I care sooo much about how other people are responding to me. I’m over being judged for how I look, speak, and dress – for the most part – but I’m still sensitive to how others react to me. If I’m doing something that causes someone any negative emotion, I want to modulate my behavior immediately to please them, even if it means discomfort for me. Um, this is nicht sehr gut, as they say in German. I can’t spend my life constantly trying to please other people. The very act of being alive means I’m going to ruffle some feathers.
I can’t try to shrink myself or shirk my own needs in order for other people to like me. I can’t disappear or live in a bubble. I’m an adult and as an adult I need to take care of myself, even if that means disappointing someone else, or annoying someone else, or angering someone else. To make that process easier, I need to care less. I’m not saying we should all start parking illegally in bus zones or acting like jerks in order to get our needs met, but maybe those of us who care a lot need to care less. And vice versa.
I dream of a world where we each find the sweet spot between caring too much and caring too little. A world where we’re considerate of each other, but not overly so. A world where we take care of ourselves to the best of our capacity while also taking care of those around us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This post comes to you from Vienna, Austria. That’s relevant because I’m putting a lot of pressure on myself to practice my German. “Rebekah! How often are you given the opportunity to go to a German-speaking country? You need to take advantage of this!” Nevermind the fact I only speak about three words, have a terrible accent, and am unclear about the sentence structure. Nevermind that speaking to strangers makes me nervous and I’m already stressed about doing my job well covering a conference — the reason that I’m in Vienna in the first place. It seems like a good idea to pile even more on and berate myself for not speaking German, no?
Right. What it boils down to is fear of missing an opportunity. I’m scared that if I don’t take advantage of every opportunity that comes my way they’ll never come around again and be gone forever. Except, that’s not really true. I mean, it is for some things — if a relative is on her deathbed and there’s an option to go see her, yes, do that, but little things like practicing German or attending a concert? That stuff comes around again.
In fact, in my experience, if something is meant to be, it will definitely come around again. The things, experiences, and objects that are meant to be in my life will come into my life and I don’t need to worry about missing them. Here’s a small example. Everyone and their mother has recommended the book to me, The Highly Sensitive Person. If I had a nickel for every time someone said, “Do you know you’re a highly sensitive person?” I’d be a millionaire. Finally, a friend gifted it to me so now I’m reading it. I know it’s a small example, but I have larger examples too (see: Just a Girl from Kansas).
One of my favorite quotes, which I’m paraphrasing, comes from Rev. Michael Bernard Beckwith who says, “Opportunity doesn’t knock, it will beat down your door.” I’ve found that to be true for me. Perhaps I can relax then about not speaking German frequently while I’m here. Perhaps I can calm down with all the carpe diem-ing I’m doing. Perhaps I’d be better off staying present with myself and showing up authentically instead of forcing myself to do something because I’m scared I won’t get another chance. Maybe it’s time for me to relax into the knowledge that opportunities I’m meant to have will beat down my door and it’s my job to say yes only when I mean it.
I dream of a world where we realize opportunity keeps knocking. A world where we don’t pressure ourselves when it’s unnecessary. A world where we relax and show up authentically for ourselves allowing our true desires to shine through.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I am en route to Vienna so I’m reposting this blog from April.
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.
I dream of a world where we remember we are not our thoughts. A world where we remember a thought is just a thought. 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.
This week I got a wallop of self-inflicted shame. Ugh, is there anything worse than that cheeks-burning, hang-dog feeling? As the shame I feel doesn’t stem from harm I’ve caused myself or others, it’s not aiding anything and becomes another way that I’m mean to myself. What comforted me was hearing that shame is a perception, but also that there’s nothing wrong with me. There’s nothing broken that needs to be fixed. I don’t fully believe that, but I loved hearing the message so much I thought I’d write a letter to you and to me. For some extra oomph, listen to the audio so I can tell you just how awesome you are. =)
My dear, there is nothing wrong with you. There is nothing broken that needs to be fixed. There is nothing horrible that needs correcting. You are lovely and amazing just as you are in this moment. I know that may be hard to hear, but it’s true. If absolutely nothing changed, you would still live a full and rich life. I know there are parts you don’t like, parts that you’d like to change, and that’s OK, but at the same time, recognize those are choices and not requirements. You aren’t required to change any part of your person or your life. You could keep going as you are now and still be loved, respected, and fulfilled. Nothing has to change. It doesn’t. If you want it to, that’s a different story, but nothing has to.
You are doing great! I think you are doing a terrific job and I am so proud of you. Proud of who you are and who you’re becoming. Proud of all the things you have accomplished and will accomplish. You aren’t broken, or defective, or any of the things you tell yourself. You are a work in progress, but even if the progress stopped, what’s here is magnificent.
I understand that you feel ashamed, but I promise there is nothing wrong with you. There is nothing broken that needs to be fixed. Most people feel ashamed about something. If it wasn’t this, it would be something else. You are not alone now or ever. You are a part of that great, big, messy group called “human.” And you’re doing great! Let me emphasize one more time that you are loved, just as you are. If things continued like this, you would have a good life so you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, I swear. You are a treasure and a gift and I love you.
I dream of a world where we stop shaming ourselves unnecessarily. A world where we understand we are fine just as we are. A world where we know we aren’t broken and don’t need fixing. A world where we accept and love ourselves as we embrace our magnificence.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
About six years ago a friend found a bookmark stashed between some pages and gave it to me. “Make the impossible possible,” it says. It’s been taped to my computer ever since. I love the idea of making the impossible possible (obviously), and this week there was evidence of just that.
As you know, I’ve been looking for a place to call my own for the millionth, billionth time. Since I came back to the Bay Area on New Year’s, I’ve been staying with various friends and in a little cottage I found through airbnb.com. A pretty miraculous thing that I mentioned is I’ve been easygoing about the whole “finding a place to live” situation. I haven’t been too worried about it because I just wasn’t, plus I pulled a petulant-child tantrum and said, “Universe, if you want me to live here, you have to find me a place to live!”
What unfolded was incredible. Every day I scoured craigslist multiple times waiting for something to show up. It never did. Everything in my price range was either a.) in a bad neighborhood b.) too small or c.) both. Yet I maintained my optimism that if I was supposed to look further afield, I would receive that guidance. Little did I know apartments would come to me and not the other way around.
A friend called me up and said he knew someone with a studio apartment in El Cerrito. She was currently listing it on airbnb.com, but he convinced her that she’d be better off renting it to me. I looked at the place . . . and it was too small. But still! How awesome that a friend thought of me and that I didn’t have to compete with 100 other people for it, something that seriously happens in the Bay Area?
Then on Wednesday, a friend posted on facebook that her neighbor was moving out of his one-bedroom apartment and was anyone interested in subletting from him? I’m not comfortable with subletting, but I think it’s important to follow through on opportunities when they present themselves. I walked up to the apartment – in Oakland, a place I didn’t want to live again – to find a quiet complex pulled back from the street, situated in such a way that there would be no neighbors above or below me because the ground floor is parking and there is no third floor, well-insulated, etc. I told my friend that I was interested but to check and see how much the landlords would raise the rent for a new tenant.
The landlords wanted to raise the rent by $200 a month, but because I’m a friend of their current tenant, they agreed to $100 instead, which is the max I can pay. I filled out an application and the first time I met the landlords was when I was SIGNING THE LEASE. No advertising on craigslist, no meeting me, and just like that, I have an apartment that while not perfect, seems like it will meet my needs. It even has laundry onsite, which for the rent I’m paying is practically unheard of in this market. Oh and I have my own garage, which is even more unheard of.
It may not sound like all of this is impossible, but that’s kind of the point. How many things do we think are impossible that are actually plausible? How many times are we certain something won’t happen to us when it might, or it does? I won’t say that I “made” the impossible possible, but I will say the universe is infinite and creative and perhaps there are more things existing in the realm of reason than we think.
I dream of a world where we realize impossible things are happening every day. A world where we realize there are more potentials than we give the universe credit for. A world where we allow for more magic and mystery in our lives.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This is a repost from December 2010.
Life can be so dramatic can’t it? I may get caught up in the circumstances of life – of freaking out about spraining my ankle, getting laid off, tumultuous relationships, even death – but ultimately everything is an expression of an infinite loving consciousness. All of it is God, Brahma, Love, my Higher Power. When I remember that I stop falling for illusions.
In Sanskrit, there is a word maya that means just that – illusion. More deeply, maya means all the worldly trappings that distract us. That’s not to say the worldly trappings don’t exist, but really they are like shadows on the wall. They exist but we’re not seeing their true form.
I skimmed through one of my favorite books, A Return to Love looking for a quote to fit in with this blogpost and I came across, “Nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists. Herein lies the peace of God.” The shadows may dance on the wall, but the hand that creates them remains unperturbed.
This post is my effort to return to love. To remind myself what is real. Is it the pain in my ankle? Is it my financial situation? No. They are merely shadows on the wall. The real reality is my higher power, the infinite loving consciousness. My ego likes to pretend otherwise, likes to enjoy the sound and the fury of life, if you will, because that’s the only way my ego will survive.
In truth, I am peace, I am love, I am divine. In truth, all is well, all always was well, all will always be well. No matter the circumstance I go through, no matter the upset, no matter the drama, it’s just noise. The hand creating the shadow is at peace. My soul, my essence remains untouched. Because ultimately love is all there is.
It’s easy to forget and disregard that notion. That everything is an expression of the divine. Especially when life is super dramatic. Except, that’s when I need to pause the most. That’s when I need to jerk my head away from the shadows dancing before me and remind myself where they’re coming from.
I dream of a world where we disengage from the ego’s drama. A world where we bisect the trouble and get to the heart of the matter, which is love is all there is. Even among the violence and upheaval, love is there. Love will always be there. Love always was there. I dream of a world where we know that and feel that and return to that. A world where we focus on the hand creating the shadow rather than the shadow itself.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.