I had an interesting experience with certainty on Saturday night. I went to a Democratic Socialists of America teach-in where they discussed how veganism feeds anticapitalism and vice versa. They served dinner and I was SURE I’d be able to eat almost nothing because while I’m vegan, I don’t eat onions and garlic, which are basically in everything. It turns out they ordered food from one of a handful of restaurants that don’t cook with those ingredients!
And then on the way home, all the transit apps said my bus was on time (it wasn’t). I was certain I’d missed my connecting bus because of the delay, which, again, all of the transit apps said would be the case, but I didn’t! The connecting bus was also late, which meant I waited a grand total of 2 minutes rather than the 15 I begrudgingly anticipated. Here was the trickster working in my favor. I usually think of the trickster as the disruptive force that makes it rain on your wedding day, but sometimes the trickster can work to your benefit.
These experiences around uncertainty reminded me of a quote a friend shared. Painter Paul Cézanne said, “We live in a rainbow of chaos.” I don’t know about you but I don’t naturally associate “rainbow” with “chaos.” I don’t think of chaos and unpredictability as beautiful. I think of them as dark, ugly, something to be avoided at all costs. But that’s not the full story, is it? As the Post-It note on my bathroom mirror says, “Remember: Life can be surprising and delightful.”
Is it a rainbow? Yes? It is chaos? Also yes. Photo by Luca Upper on Unsplash
Life can be chaotic and beautiful. Uncertain and joyful. It’s all of it. Life is a broad range of experiences and I do better when I embrace that. There’s a psychological concept that supports this called emodiversity, which means letting yourself feel an abundant range of emotions – not just the pleasant ones. A study of 37,000 people found that those who do that have better mental health, decreased depression, better physical health, and know how to handle a wide range of behavioral situations.
Diversity is the name of the game over and over again. Diversity in emotions. Diversity in the gut microbiome. Diversity in the gene pool. We are stronger with diversity. My spiritual teacher says:
“Some people say that disparity is the order of nature; therefore, there must be differences between one group and another, between rich and poor, etc. However, such a proposition is fundamentally incorrect. Instead, it is correct to say that diversity is the order of providence. One must remember that identicality is disowned by nature – nature will not support identicality. Whenever identicality occurs, a sort of structural explosion takes place and the entire structure is broken into pieces. So diversity is the law of nature and identicality can never be.”
He’s talking specifically about social structures but the concept also applies to our internal diversity, or in this case, our internal range of emotions and experiences. Life is meant to be a rainbow of chaos, and instead of becoming something to fear, I’m learning it’s something I can enjoy.
I dream of a world where we recognize the only certainty we’ll ever have is that life is uncertain. A world where we understand chaos and unpredictability don’t have to be bad things. A world where we embrace our full range of emotions and accept diversity internally and externally. A world where we remember we live in a rainbow of chaos.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
A few people have said to me they don’t feel particularly motivated right now, that they’re low energy, and just generally not feeling amazing. What keeps coming to mind is a post I wrote in November 2021 about letting things be terrible. Even though I’m not recovering from a car accident or participating in the now-defunct NaNoWriMo organization challenge, this post still feels relevant. Enjoy.
Right now, I’m engaging in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), which means I’m aiming to write 50,000 words in a month. For the uninitiated, that’s a novel the length of The Great Gatsby. It’s approximately 75 pages single-spaced in a Word processing document. I’m pretty sure this new novel I’m working on is the worst piece of writing in the known universe, but I’m pressing forward. (Side note from 2026 me: It took me four years to finish it, but I’m incredibly proud of the novel I worked on during NaNoWriMo, and the people who’ve read it all told me that I wrote something wonderful. I’m currently pitching the book to literary agents.)
The advice for those writing during NaNoWriMo is to tame your inner editor. Instead of hitting the “delete” key when you think something sounds awful, just keep putting words on the page. Let the writing be bad. There’s something liberating in indulging in that mentality. To revel in it. To acknowledge, “I know this can be said better, but I don’t care.”
As someone with a history of perfectionism, it’s difficult for me to stop judging end results, but that’s what I’m encouraging myself to do right now. I’m acknowledging the new novel is bad, that it will likely change a lot before I’m finished, but I’m letting that be OK. I’m not nitpicking myself in the moment and instead giving myself freedom to relax, to explore, to try new things on the page. It’s fun!
Let it be terrible sometimes. Photo by Vitaly Gariev on Unsplash
I notice this principle, “Let it suck,” applies not only to creative projects, but also to the physical body (sometimes). Headline: I’m fine, but on Saturday night, I was in a car accident. While driving through an intersection, a car ran a red light and hit the driver’s side of my friend’s car. We swerved to the right, and the impact jostled me so I banged up my elbow and knees against the console very, very minorly. It’s my right shoulder blade that hurts this morning from the whiplash.
I took out a tennis ball and massaged the shoulder blade, but it still hurts. Nothing is dislocated; it just hurts. Because I was in a car accident. And instead of rushing to fix it, change it, solve it, I said to the pain, “I’m here. I’m listening, body.” I’m letting the pain be here, I’m letting things suck because sometimes that’s all we can do. The body heals on its own timeframe and that doesn’t necessarily mean something is wrong.
It reminds me of this NY Times article I read a few years ago, where an American woman had a hysterectomy in Germany. When she asked about painkillers post-surgery, her medical team said she’d be given ibuprofen, and that’s it. When she talked to one of her doctors about it, he said, “Pain is a part of life. We cannot eliminate it, nor do we want to. The pain will guide you. You will know when to rest more; you will know when you are healing. If I give you Vicodin, you will no longer feel the pain, yes, but you will no longer know what your body is telling you. You might overexert yourself because you are no longer feeling the pain signals. All you need is rest.”
It confounded her, but it turned out her doctors were right. She didn’t need painkillers – she needed rest and patience. She let things suck, she let her body feel terrible, and that was her wisest course of action. For this month, I, too, am letting things suck in more ways than I anticipated, and that perhaps is a greater accomplishment than writing the worst novel the world has ever seen in the course of 30 days.
I dream of a world where we let things suck sometimes. A world where we let our creativity flow without any hindrance. A world where we check our self-editors at the door. A world where we let ourselves feel pain when it arises because it provides us with important information to guide our lives and direct our attention.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I just finished Elizabeth Gilbert’s latest memoir, All the Way to the River, and a few lines jumped out at me. In one art piece (because the memoir includes her doodles), she writes, “Replacing fantasies with different fantasies is not a good idea. Trade fantasy, which has a storyline, with mystery, which does not.”
As we open this new year, that feels like the best possible advice I could hear. So much of 2025 was a dismantling of fantasies and storylines for me. It was understanding that happily ever after doesn’t exist, and instead, life is a wheel. It was also a lesson in realizing that plans will always go awry, and it’s better for me to plan for that, or in other words, to welcome the trickster.
I want to be omniscient. I want to know everything right now, but as my former therapist used to say, “How’s that working out for you?” My friend, it is not working out for me. Not even a little. Trading one fantasy for another, one plan for another, only sets me up for disappointment. Honestly, I’m a little tired of disappointment. I’d like to get off this ride, please.
Abstract art! Always mysterious! Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash
And even though my spiritual practice advocates recognizing our true nature, i.e., that we are all divine, or spiritual beings having a human experience, my teacher does NOT say we should try to know everything. In fact, he says, Cosmic Consciousness has been “creating this unique, colorful world with His various powers. Why He is doing so is known to Him alone; no one else knows it. … It is a fact that human beings with their limited intellect can never understand the secrets of why and how [God] has been creating this universe; their wisdom can never fathom this mystery.”
Instead of trying to puzzle everything out, my teacher says, “You should think, ‘My little intellect cannot fathom all this – rather let me do one thing, let me establish a relation of sweet love with Him,’” because ultimately, that’s the only thing that brings relief anyway.
In Liz’s poem “God Responds to My Withdrawal,” she touches on this, writing from the perspective of God. Here are a few excerpts:
Nothing you could ever feel
is bigger than what I can hold.
Let me surround you with holy silence, then
while you struggle.
Let me embrace you with my infinite mystery
while you rage.
….
Being everywhere, I have nowhere better to be.
Being everything, I have nothing better to do.
Bring it all to me, then.
….
Feel everything you need to feel, my child–
but feel me, too, in this unrelenting furnace.
Feel me, too.
As people, places, and things continue to baffle me, the best I can do is keep developing a loving relationship with myself and with my Higher Power. And instead of replacing one storyline with another, I’m better served by living in the mystery.
I dream of a world where we recognize our plans will always go awry. A world where we stop trying to shoehorn life into a particular storyline. A world where we turn inward for comfort and relief. A world where instead of trying to be omniscient, we make peace with living in the mystery.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I do plan to write original content again but today is not that day. This post is from August 2024. Normally, I don’t like to recycle content written in the past year, but what’s most true for me right now is the need to be where I am, and the need to go slow. Enjoy.
An emotion I feel frequently is frustration, and it’s usually because people and situations aren’t moving as fast as I’d like. I don’t mean literally – I’m not a speed demon – I mean in terms of actions. A frequent complaint I have is, “Why is this taking so long?” That’s everything from a person returning my telephone call to becoming a bestselling author. I want everything yesterday. The whole “waiting” thing is a ripoff, if you ask me.
Given my penchant for moving quickly, it should be no surprise that the universe gives me plenty of opportunities to practice patience. I’ve written dozens of posts about patience over the years, including earlier in the year when I wrote about the future unfolding. I know that things bloom when they’re ready, and we’re looking at our watches while God is looking at the calendar. But even with all those posts, I still want things to move quickly! This might also be a good time to mention it’s taken me three times as long to write this post as my other ones, and that even writing a post about it being OK to go slow, I want to go fast. And not only do I want to go fast, I want to be somewhere I’m not.
A snail AND a ladybug! It’s OK to go slow. Photo by Krzysztof Niewolny on Unsplash
I’m struggling with what to say, but when I let my writing flow in the form of a letter, the words poured out. Here’s a letter to me from my Great Self, but maybe your Great Self wants you to hear it too:
“I know you want everything yesterday. I know nothing moves as quickly as you’d like. You see the endgame, you know how things could be. It’s one of your gifts to dream, to imagine. It’s the creative spark that lives within you, seeking expression. You have an active mind and that’s one of the best things about you.
“It’s easy for you to make big jumps, to go from A to Z very quickly but not everyone else is like that. Other people need to take baby steps. They need to move more slowly. They need time for their brains and bodies to catch up. It’s OK for you to match their pace, it’s OK for you to go slow. It’s OK for you to rest and relax and know that everything is going exactly as it should at the pace it should. That includes your emotional states.
“What I really want you to know is you aren’t alone; you aren’t doing all this by yourself. It’s not your self-will that’s making things happen. It’s you matching the universal, Cosmic rhythm. It’s you syncing your desires with the Cosmic desires. It’s the outside world pouring into you, supporting you.
“When you want to rush, think about the natural world. You may want to harvest blueberries right now, but you have to wait for a bud, then a bloom, then a blueberry. The natural world knows how to move slowly. It’s the human world that does not. It’s people who say you should have this accomplished by this age, and if you don’t, you’re a failure. It’s the human world that touts overnight successes and doesn’t honor the people who write four books before they publish a bestseller. It’s the human world that tells you that you should be moving at a pace other than the one you’re moving at.
“All of nature is here telling you it’s OK to go slow, to be where you are, that you can take all the time you need. Rest, be gentle with yourself, and know there’s nothing shameful or wrong about incrementally working toward the things you want. That’s usually how it happens.
“Remember that your spiritual teacher says, ‘Suppose, immediately after planting some saplings and seeds, someone digs them up to find out if they have taken root or sprouted. That would not be considered wise.’
“Sometimes you have to wait for your desires to be expressed, but there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s natural and the way the world works. You’re doing great and even though you don’t believe it, all is well, my dear, all is well. Go as slow as you need to go. What is meant for you will not run past you. Trust that. And trust that you are exactly where you need to be.”
I dream of a world where we remember it’s humans who tell us to rush and go as fast as possible. A world where we understand nature models slow and steady progress. A world where we recognize it can take a while for our dreams and desires to sprout but that doesn’t mean they aren’t blossoming. A world where we remind ourselves it’s OK to go slow. A world where we let ourselves be where we are.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This week, I was reminded of a post I wrote 16 years ago so I’m going waaaaay back into the archives. I hope it’s helpful for you.
A friend sent a PowerPoint presentation about a professor holding a cup. The story goes like this: A professor walked into class one day and held up a cup of water for all to see. The professor asked, “How much do you think this cup weighs?” The students answered, “50g! 100g! 125g!”
“I really don’t know unless I weigh it,” the professor said. “But my question is, what would happen if I held the cup like this for a few minutes?”
“Nothing.”
“What would happen if I held it up like this for an hour?” the professor asked.
“Your arm would begin to ache.”
“You’re right. Now, what would happen if I held it for a day?”
“Your arm would go numb, you would have muscle stress and paralysis and have to go the hospital for sure!” one of the students shouted amid laughter.
“Very good. But during all this did the weight of the cup change?”
“No.”
“Then what caused the arm to ache and the muscle stress?” the professor asked. The students were perplexed. “What should I do now to come out of pain?” asked the professor.
“Put the cup down!” said the students.
“Exactly,” the professor replied.
Sometimes we just need to put it down. Photo by Galya Chikunova on Unsplash
I love this metaphor. When life throws something my way, I tend to hold on. I obsess, I angst, I work myself up. But that’s the key point – I got myself worked up. I have a choice in how I feel, which means I can choose to feel differently. This is a tricky thing because toxic positivity is real. Spiritual bypassing is a thing. People will do almost anything to not feel their feelings. I’m not advocating that, but at the same time, what’s my part? Am I turning a windmill into a giant?
It can be hard to let go and a method I use is the emotional freedom technique (EFT), also called tapping. It helps me feel my feelings in the moment and not ruminate on them. It doesn’t always work, but usually, I feel a slight shift in how I feel and that’s always a victory. Sometimes, I combine tapping with Louise Hay’s method of saying, “I’m willing to release my need for ______.” Or even, “I’m willing to be willing to release my need for _____.”
Ultimately, I want to feel better. I want to know peace. As the serenity prayer states, some things I can change and some things I cannot. I can’t change everything but what I can change is how tightly I’m holding on to something. I can do something about my own suffering and finally put the ‘cup’ down and that’s what I want for everyone.
I dream of a world where we strike a balance between feeling our feelings and changing our moods. A world where we use the tools at our disposal like EFT or journaling to process how we feel. A world where we understand that sometimes we’re the cause of our own suffering. A world where we finally put the ‘cup’ down.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The most recent eclipse brought up so much for me – I cried buckets and let myself feel grief that had been buried for decades. In general, that happens during eclipses – people are more sensitive and emotional, and things that were hidden get revealed. It can be incredibly painful to look at something you didn’t want to look at. It may also feel scary and overwhelming.
To quote my friend Emma, we have default modes of thinking and being. We don’t question these modes and accept them hook, line, and sinker. And then when you realize you can choose differently, it’s hard to change direction. How are you supposed to let go of something you accepted as true for perhaps your entire life?!?
I can’t say what works for everyone but for me, I’m offering everything to the Divine Beloved. As Tosha Silver says in her book It’s Not Your Money, “The act of offering is a holy process. Anything truly surrendered is indeed made sacred. You’re not just throwing some mess at God, saying, ‘Hey, I hope You can handle it, dude, ‘cause I sure can’t!’ You’re no longer demanding, ‘How fast can I get my order delivered?’ Instead you’re softening and wondering, What am I learning here? How can I be kinder to myself right now? You take that unbearable burden and say, ‘I can no longer be an ego lugging this around like a pack mule. Please show me the way!’”
That’s what I want. To release the things that no longer serve me and recognize there’s a new way of being, a better way, a more loving way. Over the past week I’ve said to myself, “It’s true Rebekah, those things did happen. It’s OK to cry about them. Go ahead and cry as much as you need. And I also want you to remember that this life now belongs to Love and anything can happen.”
Love, love, love. Photo by freestocks on Unsplash
That’s another principle from Tosha’s book – that no matter what happened in the past, you don’t have to repeat it. You don’t have to replay the same patterns – whether they’re internal or external. You can have a new experience. When Divine Love leads, miracles happen. I’ve seen this in my own life with getting into recovery for an eating disorder, but also my relationship to money. I’ve shared before about how checks will appear out of the blue and that remains true. Instead of stewing in financial worry, I affirm all true needs are always met in amazing ways. And because I worked so hard to change my thinking about money, now I’m peaceful about it (most of the time) – when one client leaves, I know another will take their place.
What this past week is teaching me is the same process I used around money from Tosha’s book, I can apply to anything. She has a meditation about offering the burden of money to the Divine Beloved but I’m tweaking it to be more general so that whatever topic you’re struggling with – abundance, relationships, health, fear, whatever – you can cast aside the burden and let Love lead:
Focusing on your breath, feel yourself sinking into the Earth, your body heavy and relaxed. Get a clear symbolic picture of whatever it is you’re struggling with. Now, imagine that you’re taking this symbol to Love itself, however you envision it.
Feel that you’re now offering this burden to the Divine and that you’re saying, “Make me ready.” I’m ready to be shown. I’m ready to open to this, and I’m ready to have this belong to you. I’m ready to allow old restrictions, constraints, limits, and baggage to go.
Take me over and begin to do what my own ego never could. Take me over and begin to allow this change! Let me be uplifted and transformed. Imagine yourself offering the entire burden of this topic to that Force of Love. You may see a word; you may hear something; you may just feel it.
Know that whatever torture you’ve felt over this issue can finally be offered to God. What a relief. You’re finally really offering it, and you’re asking to be shown the right actions, from today onward. Those right actions will be shown, step-by-step, from the inside, all in right timing.
And then, as you’re ready, slowly come back out. Jot down anything that may have happened. Even the smallest message may turn out to be important.
What worked for me is doing this meditation every day until it felt true that yes, I could offer the burden of my finances to God. And now I’m doing the same thing with what was revealed to me during the eclipse. I’m ready for my life to belong to Love. Maybe you are too?
I dream of a world where we recognize we all have default modes of being and thinking. A world where we understand we don’t have to keep enacting the same patterns. A world where we grieve the past but also change our futures by letting our lives belong to Love. A world where we let Love lead.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I feel incredibly off. In large part, it’s because I’ve been sick with a cold for the last nine days. Add in lack of sleep due to said cold, disruption at my apartment because of construction, Trump returning to the White House, the collective heartbreak around the LA wildfires, continued destruction of Gaza, and all the other tragedies in the world, and I want to pull a Rip Van Winkle. If I could go to sleep and wake up once everything is better, that would be great.
When life is like this, I remind myself of a few things: One, I don’t need to tackle my life’s problems (or the world’s problems) all at once. I do what I can when I can. And two, what’s called for is the next right action. The next right action varies but it’s always something small and manageable like taking a shower, calling that person, or running an errand. Little things snowball into big things and I can trust the big things take care of themselves when I focus on taking the next right action over and over again.
Lastly, to keep myself from falling into a pit of despair, it’s important to find the good and remember the miracles all around me. To that end, I’m resharing a post from August 2023. I hope it helps you as much as it does me.
After a long day of staring at my computer screen, I walked outside to my apartment complex’s terrace where something caught my eye. Leaning against the far wall beneath an overhang is a bag of detritus. It’s filled with dirt and pine needles and everything workmen scooped out of our gutters from at least eight months ago, if not longer. Do you know what was spilling out of that bag?
A well-developed nasturtium vine. There are so many things about this that are astounding. Number one, I’m on that terrace every few days watering my plants. How did I not notice it before? And number two, it hasn’t rained here in MONTHS. How did that nasturtium vine survive?!? It’s not like any of my neighbors were watering a bag of soil in an attempt to keep a plant alive. And yet, not only did the vine survive, it thrived as you can see in the picture.
The vine in question. Look at how big it is!
When I saw this plant, I literally laughed out loud because it was so unexpected and also miraculous. It reminded me that miracles are everywhere if we look for them. Miracles often have the connotation of being something big and obvious, but they can also be small and discreet, like this nasturtium vine.
I could use more miracles in my life. It’s easy for me to become disheartened by the ever-present pessimism in the news. Fires leveling towns. Floods. Famines. It’s a lot. And yet, if I look around, I also see evidence of miracles. Back in November, scientists captured footage of the black-naped pheasant-pigeon, which hadn’t been seen since 1882! In Brazil, the Golden Lion Tamarin used to be on the brink of extinction with about 200 animals in the wild, but the population has rebounded to around 4,800, according to a recent study.
Miracles happen every day with people surviving deathly car crashes, getting pregnant when they thought they were infertile, or walking again when they were told it was impossible. It’s easy to think, “Well, that wouldn’t happen to me,” but what if it could? What if you could also receive a miracle? And like me with the nasturtium plant, what if miracles are all around and we’re just not noticing them?
Given the choice between a world where we’re all doomed and one where miracles occur, I vote for the latter. It reminds me of a concept we have in my spiritual tradition called madhuvidyá, which literally means “honey knowledge.” It requires seeing everything as an expression of an infinite loving consciousness, also known as Brahma.
My spiritual teacher says, “This madhuvidyá will pervade your exterior and interior with … [ecstasy] and will permanently alleviate all your afflictions. Then the ferocious jaws of [degeneration] cannot come and devour you. The glory of one and only one benign entity will shine forth to you from one and all objects.”
That may not seem relevant but for me, practicing madhuvidyá means remembering God is here, there, and everywhere. Because everything is Brahma, everything is a manifestation of that infinite loving consciousness. In that framework, OF COURSE miracles are everywhere. How could they not be?
I dream of a world where we recognize the strange and the unlikely occurs all the time. A world where we make room for magic and mystery. A world where we understand this entire universe is composed of an infinite loving consciousness that is all-knowing and all-powerful. A world where we recognize if that’s true, if anything can happen, then miracles can too.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
On the heels of my post from last week about making new milestones, the phrase that keeps coming to me is, “Let go of the way you think things are supposed to be and embrace what is.” That’s a big one for me because I have a lot of “supposed tos.” Everything from I’m supposed to have fewer gray hairs to I’m supposed to be wealthier. Where those “supposed tos” came from I couldn’t say but they’re rolling around in my head.
Those “supposed tos” aren’t neutral or ephemeral either. They aren’t something I say, “Oh well!” about. They cause damage because when things don’t match the vision in my head, I feel angry/sad/resentful/disappointed. But it’s all self-inflicted! I’m the one that set myself up for those feelings! You’d think I’d learn by now not to do that to myself, but no. This whole year has been an extended lesson in letting things unfold as they will and embracing what is, not what I think is supposed to be. How do I do that? I’m still learning (obviously) but what I’ve come to is two parts. The first is surrender.
My spiritual teacher says, “Human beings and other created beings perform a multitude of actions. The ultimate action, however, is … total surrender.” Total surrender means aligning my will with my higher power’s will. Total surrender means recognizing I am an actor in this world, not the general manager of the universe. In other words, it’s saying, “OK” to whatever life is throwing at me. I don’t have to like it but I do have to accept it.
Maybe it’s already the way it’s “supposed” to be. Photo by Helio Dilolwa on Unsplash
The other part is staying present. Ram Dass says in his famous book Be Here Now:
“[I]f you set the alarm to get up at 3:47 this morning and when the alarm rings and you get up and turn it off and say: ‘What time is it?’ You’d say, ‘Now. Now. Where am I? Here! Here!’ then go back to sleep and get up at 9:00 tomorrow. Where am I?? Here! What time is it? Now! Try 4:32 three weeks from next Thursday. By God it is – there’s no getting away from it – that’s the way it is. That’s the eternal present. You finally figure out that it’s only the clock that’s going around … it’s doing its thing but you – you’re sitting here, right now, always.”
Another quote from Ram Dass: “What are you doing? Planning for the future? Well it’s all right now but later? Forget it baby, that’s later. Now is now. Are you going to be here or not? It’s as simple as that!” Being here, now means not only enjoying the present moment but accepting it’s exactly how it’s supposed to be, gray hairs and all.
I dream of a world where we let go of our “supposed tos” and embrace what is. A world where we remember expectations only set us up for disappointment and resentment. A world where we understand as much as we have dreams for the future, we are actors, not general managers, and that means it’s better for us to let things play out how they’re meant to not how we think they’re supposed to.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The past week has been a huge lesson in humility. I don’t mean humiliation or low self-esteem. The word “humility” originates from the Church Latin word humilis, which literally translates as “on the ground.” Other words that mean “Earth” are also part of the etymology of “humility.” Being humble means keeping your feet on the ground, and staying present here on Earth. Sometimes humility is interpreted in the context of others, i.e., remembering you are no better and no worse than anyone else. Humility can also mean recognizing how powerless you are over yourself and others.
That’s been my experience in the past week, recognizing how powerless I am. I’ve had social interactions, or non-interactions as the case may be, that I REALLY didn’t anticipate. I reached out to eight people and none got back to me within a day or two like they usually do. Some of them still haven’t responded. As I told my friend, “If it’s odd, it’s God applies to the unpleasant things too.” I think God was forcing me to touch some unhealed places within me, particularly in my past where I felt lonely, alone, and invisible.
And then on Friday, I woke up with twinges of pain in the same places I experienced from my car accident in 2021. For context, I haven’t felt pain in those places for at least 1.5 years. It’s not like they ache on a regular basis. No, this was a searing, out-of-the-blue pain. It, too, forced me to confront a quite literal old wound.
Sometimes life is like this. Photo by Sam Moghadam Khamseh on Unsplash
When I slowed down and asked myself what was up, why this all was happening, the answer that came to me was, “Your wounds are meant to be healed. You cannot pretend they don’t exist. Nor can you focus on how good your life is now as a way to fix when it wasn’t.” In other words, it doesn’t help to say, “Look how many friends you have now!” in response to the pain I felt when friendship was scarce.
Like I wrote about in 2020, trauma is always running in the background because it’s stored in the central nervous system. We used to think trauma was stored in the brain as a memory, but the latest research shows trauma is stored in the body. You might have heard of the book The Body Keeps the Score by Dr. Bessel van der Kolk which is all about this. He writes, “As long as you keep secrets and suppress information, you are fundamentally at war with yourself…The critical issue is allowing yourself to know what you know. That takes an enormous amount of courage.”
What I know is I’ve felt deep emotional and physical pain in my life. What I know is some of it remains unresolved because otherwise, I wouldn’t feel so triggered when eight people don’t get back to me. What I know is my physical body still has scar tissue from the various accidents I’ve been in. What I also know, but struggle to believe when so many things go wrong at once, is that my higher power wants me to be happy, joyous, and free.
I’ve quoted this poem by Hafiz before but I’m sharing it again because it’s appropriate. It’s called “Tripping Over Joy”:
What is the difference
Between your experience of Existence
And that of a saint?
The saint knows
That the spiritual path
Is a sublime chess game with God
And that the Beloved
Has just made such a Fantastic Move
That the saint is now continually
Tripping over Joy
And bursting out in Laughter
And saying, “I Surrender!”
Whereas, my dear,
I am afraid you still think
You have a thousand serious moves.
Humility reminds me I don’t have a thousand serious moves left. Humility reminds me that all I can do sometimes is surrender. Sometimes in laughter but sometimes in sorrow. That’s what I do when life brings me to my knees: I give in.
I dream of a world where we realize there’s a difference between humility and humiliation. A world where we understand old wounds continue to exist until we confront them. A world where we understand Higher Power wants us to be happy, joyous, and free, and sometimes that means hurting emotionally and physically. A world where we surrender when life brings us to our knees.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
In 12-step programs, there’s a saying that for anything to change, you must go through the three “A’s:” awareness, acceptance, and action. I’m very good at awareness and action. Acceptance? Not so much. I want to skip over acceptance and go right into action to fix whatever is wrong. I don’t want to sit with it or accept it. That’s the uncomfortable part. But there’s something to acceptance, to saying, “This is where I am right now and I don’t like it but I also don’t have to fight it.”
Did you know that one definition of “accept” is “to receive”? When I accept myself or my life circumstances, I’m receiving them, I’m meeting them, I’m greeting them. They become like a friend coming in out of a storm that I’m welcoming inside. There is no judgment, no sense of good or bad. Instead, there is neutrality and that’s exactly what I’m striving for right now. To let myself be what I am – no more and no less.
I love how flowy the jellyfish is. Photo by Giorgio Trovato on Unsplash
I can apply that mentality to circumstances as well. Do I like them? No. Can I receive them? Yes. To take the guest analogy further, guests are not residents – eventually, they leave. Some guests stay longer than others, sure, but no one sticks around forever. And in the interim, what sort of host am I? I’d like to be the gracious and hospitable kind.
There’s also something to letting the flow take over. To say to whatever is happening in my life, “I’m entering the stream and I’m letting this take me where I need to go.” There’s grace in that act of acceptance because essentially, it’s surrendering to what is, which allows something else to emerge.
There’s a story in the Mahábhárata about surrender that I don’t particularly love but illustrates surrender beautifully. When Duhshásana was pulling the sari of Draopadii, she was tightly holding the cloth to her body with one hand, beseeching Lord Krśńa with the other. “Oh! My Lord, save me!” But he didn’t come forward to save her. When Draopadii found no means of escape, she then released her hold on the cloth and appealed to the Lord most piteously with both hands outstretched, saying, “O Lord, I surrender my all to you. Do what you think is best.” And then the Lord immediately rescued her.
When I can accept something fully, that’s when something greater, larger, more magnificent can step in. It’s essentially what I wrote about last week and having my life belong to love. When I first accept what is, I’m receiving what the Divine Beloved wants to bring into my life. I may not like it in the beginning, the water may be choppy, I may throw up from seasickness, but at some point, I’ll look back and say, “Oh, I see. You did that for my benefit.” But key to that process is first, accepting.
I dream of a world where we recognize for anything to change, we must go through the process of awareness, acceptance, and then action. A world where we understand to accept something is to receive it with care. A world where we allow ourselves to move with the flow by entering the stream of life exactly where we are, right now.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.