It’s been truly strange around my neighborhood for the last few days, and I’m not reacting the way I thought I’d react – or the way other people are predicting I’d react. On Thursday, my friend Michael was standing in the doorway and said, “Do you know that guy?” A young man was hopping the fence that separates my apartment complex from my neighbors. I didn’t know him. Michael confronted him as he hopped the fence on the other side.
A few minutes later, police officers drove down the street, and Michael notified them about the trespasser. I thought that would be the end of it, but it wasn’t. The police officers kept coming. And so did two helicopters. And then U.S. marshals. Around 40 police officers and U.S. marshals blocked my street and patrolled with assault rifles drawn. I went grocery shopping in the middle of this and they wouldn’t let me walk back to my apartment without a police escort. Some of my neighbors weren’t allowed in their homes while the officers looked for the guy who hopped the fence.
I read in a news article later that the guy who jumped my fence was armed and the U.S. marshals were looking for him along with two others who were involved in a robbery. One of the culprits violated his patrol. This search and lockdown continued for hours. The two helicopters circled right above me for three hours straight. Police officers literally blocked my driveway.
You can do it! Photo by Stijn Swinnen on Unsplash
When I tell most people the events from Thursday, they respond with, “Wow. That’s so scary.” But here’s the thing: I didn’t feel scared. Even though I saw the person they were after. Even though there were guns drawn. I was annoyed. My nerves were frayed from the constant noise and stimulation. But I wasn’t scared.
Then on Saturday, I was without power for 11 hours. I knew it was coming – the electricity company needed to work on a utility pole. Friends remarked how annoying that would be, how unsettling. But I didn’t really mind. It was quiet. I couldn’t even hear the hum of a refrigerator. And it wasn’t so bad because I have a gas stove and could still make myself food. Plus, I just returned from traveling so my tablet was filled with downloaded movies and TV shows. It was fine. I was fine.
My reactions remind me of a quote by A.A. Milne, author of the Winnie-the-Pooh series, who said, “You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than you think, and loved more than you know.” I am strong, and brave, and resilient. I don’t operate with the same amount of fear anymore – even in situations where people expect me to be afraid, I’m not.
Essentially, I’m stepping into my power. I’m owning what I’m capable of as I am, right now. Not the me of 10 years ago. Not the me people think I should be, but the me of here, and now. The me who meets challenges over and over again. The me that says, “I’m scared but I’m still facing this.” I know that’s not true for everyone but even still, maybe you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than you think, and loved more than you know.
I dream of a world where we see ourselves clearly. A world where we stop selling ourselves short. A world where we understand we are capable of so much more than we give ourselves credit for. A world where we take care of ourselves over and over again and realize that’s exactly what we’re doing.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’m currently in Denmark at an economic conference so it seems only fitting to share this post I wrote in 2009. Many things are different – I no longer work for a magazine full-time or live in San Francisco – but my dreams remain the same. Enjoy.
This morning, I had a nightmare the magazine I work for folded. That created a ripple effect whereby I couldn’t pay my rent because I have pretty much zero savings. I woke up with my heart pounding, feeling scared and dissatisfied. Dissatisfied not for my own sake but for the way the world currently runs. Dissatisfied with unemployment, homelessness, and greed ravaging the world. Fed up with our entire economic system.
I’ve written about this before, but I’m tired of the “fend for yourself” and “rise and fall on your own” mentality. Why should my well-being rest squarely on my shoulders alone? Why should anyone go hungry? Why should anyone live on the streets? Why should anyone scrape by? Why can’t we as humans reach out to one another and support each other? Why can’t we know the true meaning of community?
Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Unsplash
As humans, each and every one of us has a right for our basic needs to be met. Every person should be guaranteed food, clothing, shelter, education, and medical care. This current economic system? It’s not working. If it did, we wouldn’t be facing the problems we are now.
I am not suggesting we pick up communism because clearly that doesn’t work so well either. The best economic theory I’ve come across thus far is Prout – the Progressive Utilization Theory. Prout says the basic necessities of life should be guaranteed for everyone. It values local businesses and local cultures. It says there should be three tiers of business: 1.) cooperatives 2.) private enterprise and 3.) government-owned industries. It recognizes resources are limited and should be treated as such.
What would it be like to live in a world where we KNEW beyond a shadow of a doubt that our needs would be met? Not because we have hope and faith but because the system itself is set up that way? What if there were zero unemployment? And people who truly cannot work were also taken care of? None of this, “I can’t afford to buy groceries until the first of the month,” business but really, truly taken care.
Under Prout, that’s what happens. Workers are not exploited. People are not commodities. Everyone, everywhere, is valued. Everyone is paid a living wage and there’s a wealth cap. Resources are evenly spread and necessities like water aren’t for profit. “Homelessness” fades from our lexicon because it is eradicated.
The environment is treated with respect rather than as a resource to pillage. We invest in local economies and let local people make decisions about how to run things for themselves. Is it a pipedream? Maybe, but in the words of Nelson Mandela, “It always seems impossible until it’s done.” I see sprouts of this growing everywhere – in cooperatives doing amazing work. In people turning to their hyperlocal communities for support. In folks waking up to the fact there’s a different way to do things. A new economy can be created. If we create it.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’m currently traveling and never have I identified more with the Charles Dickens line, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” The lows are low (no clean clothes for 48 hours! Diverted plane! An unexpected six-hour bus ride!) but the highs are also high. I’m meeting my friends’ children for the first time. I’m reuniting with people I haven’t seen in two years, 10 years. And I’m trying to do as Joseph Campbell advises when he says, “We cannot cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live in joy.”
I know there are terrible things happening. I know the world can be so horrible it will break your heart over and over again. I know people are struggling (myself included) but I am choosing to live in joy. And more than that, I’m choosing to relish the little joys when they arrive. Here’s a little story about that.
In early July, I was at a yoga and meditation retreat in upstate New York. It was so sweet to see my spiritual family and connect with people I hadn’t seen in ages. But it was also hard physically – no air-conditioning in the dorms, people walking on creaky wooden floors at all hours of the day and night, and just generally sleeping poorly in a new place. My body was wrecked.
After the retreat, I met my fourth cousin for the first time, who graciously let me stay in his two-bedroom, two-bath apartment near Times Square. Air-conditioning! A comfy bed! No creaky floors! A pool! It was exactly what I needed. The joy of temperature control after sweating all night cannot be overstated. But even still, I was tired, cranky, and feeling off because for the first time in a week, I was completely alone. As I brushed my teeth in my cousin’s bathroom, I looked down and saw a rainbow stripe in the sink.
The rainbow in question. And yes, that’s my reflection in the sink.
Many people know that I have a thing about hearts and the word “love.” I see either or both every single day. I share many of those images on Instagram. What’s less known is I also have a thing about rainbows. Whenever I see a rainbow, I will squeal in delight or, at the very least, smile. Rainbows bring me joy in a way that hearts do not because they’re unexpected and rare. It’s easy to spot a heart every day if you look for one because people wear heart necklaces. They carve them into cement. They decorate their homes with love paraphernalia. Hearts are everywhere. Rainbows are not.
When I see a rainbow, it’s like the universe is saying to me, “Hey! Remember the good stuff, kiddo! Relish the joy and remember it can come out of the blue!” When so much of the world feels like a dumpster fire, it feels important to remember that. It relates to a concept my spiritual teacher touts, which is, “Here in the universe, nothing is stationary, nothing is fixed. Everything moves; that’s why this universe is called jagat. Movement is its dharma; movement is its innate characteristic.”
Movement is the innate characteristic of the universe. Nothing is stagnant or static or stale. The world will always be full of sorrows but it will also be full of joys. Am I relishing them when they come? It’s definitely a practice but I’m doing my best because joy is a lot more, well, enjoyable.
I dream of a world where we understand there are always bad things happening but there are also always good things happening. A world where we understand joy is often about the little things – air-conditioning on a hot summer’s day, going to the pool with friends, seeing a rainbow in an unexpected place. A world where we do our best to relish those little joys because we know they aren’t so little after all.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Many years ago, I had a conversation with one of my closest friends about enlightenment. We compared our approaches – how I live in idealism, fantasy, and move toward the light. He told me his approach is more like crawling down the back of a scaly beast until he comes full circle at its snout. I heard what he said but I didn’t understand it because who wants to go down the scaly back of a beast? Who wants to peer into the seedy underbelly?
It turns out that I do. I’m currently experiencing the astrological transits associated with the mid-life crisis (and if you were born in 1984 or 1985, you are too). If you’re interested, that’s Pluto square Pluto, and essentially it means looking at the shadow and everything that remained hidden. It’s doing what Carl Jung suggested when he said, “One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.”
I’m realizing how true that is. In my post from the other week about meeting the self, I talked about the importance of looking in the mirror, and sometimes, when you look in the mirror, you don’t like what you see. Some people become well-practiced at avoiding the mirror. It’s too scary, it’s too threatening to witness the parts they want to hide but that’s not me. I’m devoted to myself and that means all parts of myself.
As if to underscore this point, I pulled an oracle card called “Diving for Light.” The author Alana Fairchild says, “It can be so much simpler to seek light in the heavenly, in that which is blissful, sweet, loving, and kind. To look for the light in that which is dark is an advanced task that only a rebellious and brave heart will attempt. You may not feel that you have taken such a journey by choice. Yet you have taken this wise challenge from deep within your soul. Your innermost being has evoked this situation in your life with the intention that you grow in power, wisdom, and creative juice. It also wants you to experience a bold and fearless trust in life and become further empowered to live it with zest and courage.”
That’s true. I want to live fully. I want to liberate myself through expansion, and that means every situation, every struggle, every everything is an opportunity to move closer to the Divine Beloved or further away. My spiritual teacher says our path is an all-around fight, both internally and externally. That means facing my fears, protesting injustice, and always asking, “How can I use this situation or experience to grow?” It’s not only the happy, joyful situations. It’s also the ones that have me crying every single day.
I’m diving for the light by mining the darkness. I’m sifting through the muck looking for gold, not because I particularly want to, but because I recognize there’s something of value in doing so. On the other end of this is more power, more wisdom, more creativity, and being one step closer to enlightenment.
I dream of a world where we understand to become enlightened, we must make the darkness conscious. A world where we use everything as an opportunity to move closer to the Divine Beloved. A world where we dive for the light because we understand that something powerful and transformative is waiting for us in the shadows.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.