There are a lot of things I could blog about today, but I find people respond best when I'm authentic and share what's really going on. What's really going on is in this moment I feel like weeping. I want to curl into a ball and cry, and cry, and cry. I don't want to admit that to you because I want to share happy things! I want you to feel inspired after reading this! But, in this moment I am sad. I acknowledge this is also because I'm REALLY tired. I moved last night after a very stressful week — I was in Seattle on Wednesday and then came home to a flooded bathroom at my sublet AND had to pack up my life and get prepped for the move all in two days. Not to mention the actual moving bit.
Moving is enough to make anyone cry, I think. I've heard several times moving is one of the top three most stressful things a person can do. I agree. It's not that my new place isn't lovely, because it is. I'm living in a cottage all by myself where I can see trees outside my window, flowers bursting into bloom, and hear birds chirping. My neighbors thus far seem very nice, helpful, and friendly. For the first time in my life, I know who I'm living around. Not just one neighbor, but all of them.
However, I'm in Oakland so that means I'm hearing gunshots and/or fireworks — we are swiftly approaching the 4th of July after all. I haven't wanted to mention the gunshots because I guess I'm a little embarrassed, as if hearing them says something about me and my economic status, i.e. gunshots mean I'm poor and being poor is something to be ashamed of. I'm not poor — I am so very rich with many, many things, and I know the money is coming. I know all of my needs are being met and I feel very blessed, and at the same time I'm living in a working-class neighborhood of Oakland. The (possible) gunshots are contributing to my tearful feelings because they're stressing me, but here is what I know: 1.) It's good to cry. Crying is a great detox. 2.) Being an adult means understanding nothing is all good or all bad.
Nothing encompasses the concept of good within the bad (and vice versa) quite as well as the yin yang.
You already heard both the good things (quiet, secure, great neighbors, in my price range, near public transportation), and the bad (not such a great neighborhood). But here's the interesting element, the not-so-great neighborhood is the seed that contributes to the pros. The more humble neighborhood is why I live in a gated community, why I can afford to be here, and why the neighbors are so friendly. I've found there is a sense of bonding together that happens in poorer neighborhoods. And yet, I still want to cry, and that's OK.
I'm writing about this because I'm giving myself (and anyone reading this) permission to feel their feelings. We have a tendency in our society to gloss over the bad stuff. We tout gratitude and appreciation, telling people to only focus on the positive. But that's not real life. Real life is messy. Real life means you can live somewhere totally gorgeous and not love the neighborhood. Real life means you can be grateful for all you have and still want more. Real life means you can feel happy and sad, scared and safe, all at the same time. I used to think I could only feel one thing at a time, but the older I get the more I find I feel a thousand different things all at once.
This blogpost may mean nothing to most of you, but I hope someone is reading this who understands what I'm trying to say: That it's OK to cry. That it's safe to express whatever you're feeling. That we can feel many things and no emotion is better than another. That being an adult means there can be so many good things at the same time there are so many bad things. We are living in a dualistic world so it makes sense we'll feel and experience opposites, sometimes in the same moment.
I dream of a world where we know it's OK to cry. A world where we feel safe to express ourselves. A world where we understand just because we're sad doesn't mean we can't also be happy. A world where we allow ourselves to express our full range of emotion. A world where we accept how we feel with grace and love.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
Today I had the pleasure of running into not one but TWO friends of mine unexpectedly. The second one said, "Free falling is only scary if you fight it." That statement really struck me, probably because I've been fighting, well, everything.
There's a lot going on in my world right now and I don't altogether trust my higher power. Whenever things don't go the way I think they "should" or that equate pleasure and enjoyment I think it's time to take my free will back because my higher power is obviously not doing a very good job. I know, the hubris of such a sentiment! But it's how I feel nonetheless. So when my friend said to me free falling is only scary if you fight it, I realized this process doesn't have to be scary. I can choose to see things differently. Instead of feeling punished or put upon or angry, I can go with it. I can allow myself the sensation of free falling, knowing when need be I can pop my parachute.
I aspire to be as joyful while falling as this guy is.
It's certainly not easy, nor am I able to shut down my urge to fight, but I know from past experience my higher power will catch me. That it's important to keep the faith because even though times are hard, they will get better. That even though I'm panicked (quite literally because my adrenal glands are so depleted I freak out over every little thing) the feeling will pass. I don't seem to remember that.
Two years ago I wrote a post that elucidated exactly that — if something is happening in the present I think it will last forever. In that particular post it was about a car alarm going off. These days it's the belief I will NEVER find a great place to live, that I will NEVER sell a bunch of books, that I will NEVER make more money, etc. I think this is probably because I'm a bit of a drama queen or an addict. Funny how I only think about these things for the negative emotions and experiences and not the positive ones. I don't believe bliss will last forever and instead appreciate it for the transitory experience it is. I wish I could feel the same way about misery.
So again, I have to come back to basics. I have to be with the process, knowing it will pass and doesn't have to be quite so terrifying. I have to remember even though I don't understand any of my life's circumstances, they are all happening for a reason. Someone said to me today, "You can't fall out of grace." How true. There is nothing I can do that will make God and the universe love me any less or punish me. Yes, there are equal and opposite reactions to all actions I take, but even those are temporary. All of it is temporary. Free falling isn't scary if you don’t fight it.
I dream of a world where we sit with the process, whatever it might be. A world where we understand all things are only temporary. A world where we know we have strength and patience and fortitude to move through any difficulty even if we feel like we're hanging on by our fingertips. Because as was shown to me today, we never know what's around the corner and when we'll receive the help we need.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
Happy New Year! On Sunday I was out of town at a retreat so I didn’t blog, but when I was there I experienced a nuance of one of my favorite quotes: “You are never alone or helpless, the force that guides the stars guides you too.” (In fact, it was even made into a song!) I have definitely felt that way – that an invisible force permeated me and my life – but this week I experienced it on a different level.
While in Austin, Texas I shared how I was feeling with some friends of mine and it turns out they were feeling the exact same way! It’s so nice to tell someone you’re heartbroken, or sad, or happy, or scared, or tired, or whatever, and have them say they feel the same way. It makes me feel less alone and crazy. I feel more connected to those around me and less isolated when I know someone else is going through the same thing. There’s a fantastic quote that I can’t find for the life of me that goes something like, “A friend is someone who says, ‘I know, I’ve been there.’” It’s so true! Sometimes I get really in my head and want to pull away from those around me because they can’t possibly be feeling what I’m feeling! They look so together! But it turns out those around me can and do feel similar to me. It’s in that sharing that space within me opens up and I feel less alone. I feel connected.
This is not the most profound post, but in essence, sharing with others reminds me I’m not experiencing life in a vacuum. That other people have problems, other people have feelings, other people don’t have all the answers either. It reminds me I’m human and that we’re all trying to buoy each other. That we’re supporting one another while working through our “stuff.” It reminds me I don’t have to be “perfect” before I can help others because instead it’s my imperfection that bonds me to others. It reminds me I’m not supposed to weather storms all on my own. And sharing how I feel also lessens my emotional load. Expressing it to someone else who is undergoing the same thing makes it seem less weighty. It’s the concept behind “misery loves company.” In my experience misery is not the only emotion that loves company, they all do.
Mostly, as I re-enter real life after coming back from vacation, I’m reminded I’m not alone. Not only because the force that guides the stars guides me too, but also because those around me are going through similar experiences. And being able to share it is a beautiful thing.
I dream of a world where we express how we’re feeling. A world where we know other people can and do understand us. A world where we open up to others because we realize we’re not alone in our experiences and nor should we be. A world where we understand we are never alone or helpless.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The message I’ve been getting over and over this week is “Forgiveness.” The interesting thing is when the event happened to me I jumped from feeling sad to trying to let it go. I looked at my part in all of it, but I never felt the anger in between and I think that’s what’s kept me from forgiving. I’ve tried to be “spiritual” and say, “Oh it happened, it’s over now, it doesn’t matter.” But you know, it does matter. I stumbled across an amazing quote this week that emphasizes the point: “Whatever you can feel you can let go of.” Somehow I’ve resisted feeling angry because I didn’t think I had a right to be angry. So the resentment, bitterness, etc. has stuck with me because I never allowed myself to feel all my feelings about it.
This week the universe has very clearly indicated it’s time for me to forgive. If I want to move forward in my life, forgiveness is a must. Here’s the interesting thing about forgiveness – it’s never about the other person, it’s about me. I forgive so that I can move on, so I can let go of the issue. As I’m sure you’ve heard over and over again forgiveness is not saying what the other person did is right, mostly it’s saying “I release you and let it go.”
As much as I want to forgive there’s still a piece of me that wants the other person to apologize first. I want them to say, “I’m sorry, what I did was wrong.” But at this point in my maturation I know the apology isn’t necessary and most likely I’m not going to get it. So all I can do is really feel I’m ready to forgive and then do it. To help with this issue, I turn to my favorite EFT guy Brad Yates:
I forgive so I can create space in my life for something better to move in. I forgive so I can release the bitterness, the resentment, and bring in the love. I forgive because I remember other people are also flawed. I forgive because I’d rather live in love rather than anger or fear.
I dream of a world where we let ourselves feel all our feelings. A world where we know what we feel we can let go of. A world where we forgive ourselves and each other. A world where we know we may have been wronged but we can always move past it.
Another world is not only possible it’s probable.
I debated whether or not to even write this post because it’s so personal but all day I’ve been getting messages about the importance of authenticity and sharing our personal experiences in an effort to help others, so here goes. . .
I am CRAZY envious of a blogger I know. I’m talking the super ugly, “I want what she has” envy. She has a crazy popular blog that’s been featured in women’s magazines and gets something like 100 comments a day, she has a loving husband, she’s published a book, AND she’s appeared on national television for it. Can we just establish here I so want those things? (Except maybe the 100 comments a day on my blog, seeing as how there isn’t really much for people to comment on. . .) I really don’t want to admit how envious I am. ESPECIALLY not to other people! I’m not proud of how I feel, but that doesn’t change the fact the feeling exists. I wish it did, but it doesn’t.
In some ways I think envy is a good thing. It reminds me what I fiercely want out of life. It reminds me what my goals are. But it’s important to remember we are all human and this fellow blogger has her trials and tribulations. She has her own things she’s going through and I probably wouldn’t want to trade my woes for hers. Going a bit deeper into it, really what envy is about is escape. I want to escape into someone else’s life because it looks better than mine. The truth is even if someone else’s life is better than mine it doesn’t mean I can do anything about it. We can’t trade places. Also, maybe all those things I envy in this woman are on their way to me. Maybe this time next year all those things will be true for me. I don’t have to rush anything. I could talk about the danger of comparing myself to other people but I’ve covered that ground already. Instead I’d like to say I live in an abundant and infinite universe. This woman having all of those things doesn’t mean I can’t have them too. If anything, it shows me I can as well.
What I’d really like to say is, “Rebekah, you can have all of those things. Nothing is stopping you.” I don’t need to be envious of this blogger because the only obstacle in my way is me. So instead of continuing to feel envy I say, “Thank you for coming up. For showing me what my heart’s real desires are. Thank you for reminding me what my priorities are and what I’d like to focus on. Now that I’ve acknowledged you, please go away.” Because I can also go on national television. Because I can also have a loving marriage. Because I can also have everything I’ve ever wanted.
I don’t know if I’ve illustrated much progress here but I guess I’m saying every emotion (even the ones I don’t like) serve a purpose. They all deserve to be recognized and looked at. I am a human being with a range of emotions and envy is one of them. But I get to choose whether I continue to feel it. I choose not.
I dream of a world where we all allow ourselves to express our feelings. A world where we give all our emotions a moment in the sun – including the ones we’d rather not face. A world where we recognize every emotion serves a purpose and it’s up to us to suss it out.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This is going to sound very strange but a part of me would like to be invisible. No really. I don’t mean in a superpower kind of way so I can catch bad guys. I mean in a very real, don’t-notice-me-pretend-I’m-not-here kind of way. I don’t want you to pay attention to me or criticize me or cause me any harm. I’d rather slink against the walls and escape your gaze. Which, if you’ve met me in real life, you know that’s not how I act AT ALL. When I walk into a room I don’t hug the sides, I march up to the very front and center of everything because I want to be in the thick of things! And um, I blog about myself every week . . . So where does that desire to be invisible come from? I honestly don’t know. Call it a past life or a carryover from childhood because it certainly doesn’t fit who I am presently.
This evening I cried listening to a podcast where the woman said she wanted to be invisible because it struck a chord with me. I hadn’t realized that was simmering below the surface, but it was. Most of you don’t know this, but for the past three weeks my knee has been swollen – so much so it hurts when I walk. And it didn’t swell up because I fell but rather of its own accord. Metaphysically speaking, knees (and joints in general) have to do with moving forward in life. I’ve been resisting moving forward because I’m scared. I’m scared of what will happen when I do. I’m scared of what will happen when people see the real me. When they find out all my secrets and all the crazy lurking beneath my surface. Because that’s exactly what my book is all about. My real life, warts and all.
Ever since we raised $5,000 via kickstarter to get the book published a part of me has wanted to scrap the whole thing. Refund everybody their money, close the blinds, turn off the lights, and call it a night. Forget the whole thing even exists. Obviously I’ve ignored that impulse because many of you saw a proposed cover on facebook. And because I pushed forward without dealing with the emotional component, my knee swelled up in response.
On Friday I read a blogpost by Lee-Anne Peters called, “Come Out of Hiding” and boy did it resonant. The gist of her post is that it’s safe to come out of hiding. It’s safe to share our gifts with the world. It’s safe to be our true selves and let our lights shine. It’s safe for me to express myself and show up in the world.
I’ve been scared of the reception my book will receive, both positive and negative. But the truth is I have a gift and it’s like that saying, “What you are is God’s gift to you. What you make of yourself if your gift to God.” Yeah.
Tonight I acknowledged the part of myself that’s been scared instead of pretending like it didn’t exist. And I apologized. I said, “I’m so sorry for whatever it was that made you feel like you need to be invisible. I’m sorry for all those things that happened to you.” Even typing that tears are pricking my eyes. And after crying I recognize the truth and the reality of where I am. That I am blessed to live in a world where it’s safe to express myself. Where even if everyone thinks I’m crazy there won’t be repercussions for it. (And in fact, there are probably people who feel the same way, and what with the internet I can connect with them.) The truth of the matter is I live in the United States where freedom of speech is revered. No one is going to break down my door and handcuff me for publishing a memoir about moving to San Francisco with no job, no place to live, and only $2,000 in the bank. They just aren’t. It’s safe for me to be seen these days.
I dream of a world where we all feel safe to share our gifts with each other. A world where we know our gifts are welcomed with open arms. A world where we know it’s so much better to be seen, accepted, and embraced in the naked light of truth than to skulk around in the dark of invisibility. A world where we allow ourselves to be who we are. A world where we allow ourselves to shine like the bright lights we are.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The title for this post is courtesy of Bryan Franklin who gave a TED talk titled “The most dangerous question on Earth.” He spent the majority of his talk on the qualities of a good entrepreneur and one of them is the ability to hold paradox. For instance, we matter but at the same time we don’t matter. He said, “You can touch a life so deeply and so profoundly that the impact of your loss would never be forgotten … the ripple effect of your impact is unfathomable. And also the magnitude of your insignificance is equally unfathomable … you are barely dust.” Holding the paradox means giving equal weight and importance to both, letting neither diminish the other. Holding the paradox means not taking sides but rather allowing both.
The paradox I’m holding is happiness and sadness. Until yesterday I was in Washington, D.C. for a wedding, which I decided to turn into a long weekend trip. I love Washington, D.C. I went to school there, I became an adult there, my favorite places on Earth are there. Yet I live in San Francisco and I love San Francisco. I love the weather, I love my friends, I love my apartment, my life, my community. I felt (and feel) sad about leaving the district because not only are my favorite places there but also some dear friends. My heart is heavy because I don’t know when I’ll see them again. Washington, D.C. is a special place for me because I don’t have one or two good friends who live there, I have about a dozen. It’s hard to leave such a large and deep pocket of love and kinship. I was sad to leave but happy to come home. A part of me wants to pick a side, to say I’m either sad to leave D.C. or happy to come back to San Francisco. But that’s not true. I honestly feel both.
What I’m learning is my feelings are complex and multifaceted so that means I can feel both. That means I can hold the paradox. I don’t have to pick a side. I don’t have to move back to D.C. because I miss living there. I don’t have to abandon my life in S.F. I don’t have to do anything really except feel what I’m feeling. Allow myself to experience both happiness and sadness, yes, even at the same time.
My life these days is no longer black and white, it’s shades of gray. I am an unlimited being so I don’t have to restrict myself to taking sides in the paradox. I don’t have to say either or anymore. Perhaps that’s what it means to be an adult, recognizing there are numerous possibilities and life isn’t as simple as I thought it was. I can feel both. I can love multiple people, places, and things and nothing has to replace anything else. I can have multiple favorites. I wish everything was cut and dry because life would be so much simpler that way but in truth, it’s not. So that’s what I’m encouraging. Embracing life as it is, which is full of paradox.
I dream of a world where contradicting ideas may coexist. A world where we allow for all possibilities and situations. A world where we allow ourselves to feel disparate emotions. A world where we accept our complexity and our depth. A world where we know one thing does not have to preclude the other.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve heard before I can choose how I feel so I interpreted that to mean I can feel happy all the time. But you know, that’s simply not true. If my dog dies I can’t all of a sudden feel happy. I’m an emotional being with emotional responses so I’m going to feel all of my feelings. It occurred to me today, however, I can change my perspective on a situation. That certainly is a choice.
This weekend has not unfolded AT ALL how I expected: unexpected houseguest! Little to no sleep! Crazy busy! I really thought I was going to spend this weekend sleeping in late and watching Netflix. Walking down the street this morning I started to feel resentment my weekend hasn’t even closely resembled that. What about all my sleep?!? What about all my rest?!? Then I heard an expression ringing in my ears: “Resentment is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die.” Aw shucks. Instead of whitewashing my feelings I changed my perspective: perhaps even though it’s not what I wanted, it’s what I needed. I got to be of service this weekend helping out my best friend. We hung out in a way we haven’t for months. Someone else made me dinner and washed my dishes and I got to play with a video camera. I laughed and relaxed and released a whole lot of tension. And I still have tomorrow.
This post probably isn’t very profound, but it just occurred to me my feelings are my feelings: I don’t need to change them or mitigate them or do anything except feel them. My mind though? That is a completely different story. I can absolutely choose to think differently even if I cannot feel differently. I can absolutely see the bright side of everything. I can absolutely believe God is doing for me what I cannot do for myself. I can absolutely aim for a broader perspective. There are things I can change and I choose to change them.
After reflecting on my day, I’m closing it feeling gratitude instead of resentment. I hung out with my bestie! I saw my favorite singer! I watched Kung Fu Panda 2! I filmed chase scenes with my neighbor! These are not horrible things. In fact, these are pretty awesome things. And that’s the beauty of perspective: it makes everything better.
I dream of a world where we change our perspective. A world where we see the bright side of everything. A world where we feel our feelings and change our thoughts. A world where we accept things as they are and change what we can. A world where we live, love and let go.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Where I am today is complete allowance of all that is. Not all of you will understand this blogpost, and that’s ok. It’s written for those of you it resonates with.
A few weeks ago I told my mom it’s a miracle I’m feeling my feelings. She said, “Rebekah, you’re human, so of course you’re feeling your feelings.” No. Not true. I have used everything to escape feeling my emotions – food, television, books, crushes – anything besides feeling them. The fact I’m now feeling my emotions really is a miracle. On Friday night I felt sad and lonely and a little crazy and instead of reaching for something to distract me, I just felt my feelings. I wanted to use affirmations, put a positive spin on all of it, but ultimately I allowed what was.
I am completely allowing myself to feel my feelings: good, bad, and ugly. I am no longer forcing myself to feel better or trying to hide parts of myself for fear others will judge me. Not just my feelings, but all parts of me. On Friday I even *gasp* went to the pool without shaving. It was perhaps the first time I walked into the pool completely unselfconscious. It was perhaps the first time in my life I allowed myself to be who I am in public without fear, without hesitation. Most of the time I’m only my true self when I feel it’s safe to do so: in the comfort of my home, with friends, at spiritual retreats. Friday was the first time it didn’t matter to me if I was being judged.
This all comes at a great time because I finished editing my book and I sent it to a professional copyeditor. I’m freaking out because that means someone else is going to read it! That probably sounds really funny because, um, when you write books you generally want people to read them. And furthermore I blog regularly about my personal life so why the commotion?
The commotion is Just a Girl From Kansas is not my blog. It’s much more personal. People are going to read my journal entries. They’re going to read my most intimate thoughts and feelings. They’re going to experience all the highs and lows I went through when I first moved to California and everything after that. It’s not a light and fluffy account. It’s my real life in its most raw form.
I’m scared because after this there is no more hiding. There is no pretending I’m a “normal” girl with a “perfect” life. All my crazy will be on display and how will people react? Except I’m not sure it matters all that much, because like I wrote a few weeks ago, those that mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind. What it really comes down to is me. Allowing myself to be all that I am, allowing myself to be who I am without limits. Allowing all expressions of myself, allowing all parts of myself to exist and know they’re all ok. No one part is better than the other. Even my unpleasant feelings are acceptable. Even my sometimes-hairy legs are acceptable. I can allow all of it.
I dream of a world where we allow ourselves to be all that we can be. A world where we give ourselves permission to do so. A world where we show up for our lives and let things be what they are. A world where we love ourselves unconditionally, even the parts we don’t necessarily want the world to see. A world where we live in complete allowance knowing self-love is what matters the most.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
“It’s all my fault. I’m to blame. Why didn’t I do it differently? Why didn’t I know better?” I loooove to play the blame game. I love to have that dialogue in my head (more like diatribe). On Tuesday I went to the physical therapist and looked at myself in the mirror. As I did so I felt like I was to blame for everything wrong with my body. I’m the reason my knees are knobby. I’m the reason my hips hurt. I’m the reason my hair is scraggly. And to top it off, I received outside reinforcement. My physical therapist said to me if I hadn’t sat in the “w” position when I was a child (with my feet behind me and my knees in front of me) my knees would be “normal.” Or my hips wouldn’t hurt if I strengthened my pelvic core.
I’m not blaming her because Lord knows I do that enough to myself. What I’m doing though is asking myself how I benefit. How do I benefit from taking the blame for everything? What do I get from finding fault? The answer is nothing (surprise, surprise). The feeling of blame doesn’t help me change anything. It doesn’t help me solve my problem.
The blame game, especially when I play by myself, keeps me stuck in the problem. I’d rather live in the solution. And sometimes there is no solution. That’s where serenity comes in. Accepting the things I cannot change and changing the things I can. I can’t change the past. I can’t change how my knees grew in. So maybe I can stop blaming myself for how they stick out and instead start accepting and appreciating them for getting me where I want to go. I can choose to love and accept myself as I am or continue to play the blame game. Take me out coach, I’m done.
I used to think blame was a great motivator. “If I chastise myself enough I’ll do something!” Um, no. If I chastise myself enough I’ll feel bad, that’s it. My parents loved to say to me as a child, “You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.” I don’t know if that’s technically true because I catch an awful lot of flies with apple cider vinegar, but I think the concept is sound. Love is a much better motivator than fear. I would do absolutely anything for the people I love. Not so much for the people I fear.
I guess what I’m saying in a roundabout way is blame doesn’t serve me. Blame gives me pain rather than serenity. And serenity is what I’m shooting for these days. I can’t fix my joints but I can strengthen my pelvic core and get a haircut. And I can also look myself in the mirror and accept what I see because it’s much easier to change your mind than it is to change your body. Cheaper too.
I dream of a world where we cut blame out of the equation. A world where we understand blame is useless because it doesn’t help us to solve anything. A world where we each experience serenity, accepting the things we cannot change and having the courage to change the things we can. A world where we live in the solution, asking what we can do about the situation. A world where we know practice love and compassion not only for each other but for ourselves.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.