I’m recycling a blog post from 2009 so, no, a friend of mine didn’t die on Tuesday, but I think this post has merit and I wanted to reshare it with y’all.
This week I learned a lot about myself, where I am, and where I’d like to go. Someone I went to high school with died on Tuesday and it hit me like a Mack truck. We weren’t close, but it brought up all this stuff for me. As soon as I heard the news I wanted to pick up the phone and call somebody, I wanted someone to comfort me.
As I walked home from work, tears leaking out from the corners of my eyes, my Papa did his best to pacify me. He said all the right things, made all the right soothing noises, but it wasn’t enough. So then I called my mom. And she did all the same things. And it still wasn’t enough. And then I called some more people and it still wasn’t enough. After all this I realized, yet again, the comfort I crave has to come from me. The unconditional love, affection, and support has to come from within because coming from the outside it will never be enough. Because the outside love and comfort runs out. Because it’s unsustainable.
Love me tender, love me sweet. . .
It’s like a car: A car needs to run on gasoline but it can only go so far before it needs a refill. It’s the same way with getting love from the outside – it will help for a little while, but eventually we’ll need more. Eventually we’ll run through the love and support someone else gave us and return for our refill. And keep returning unless we learn to refill ourselves. I’d rather generate my own love, affection, comfort, and support because my supply is infinite. The love, affection, comfort, and support coming from me never ends and never will end. And I don’t need a telephone or a computer to access it either, it’s right here with me at all times.
So here I am, back to self-love, back to filling up my own cup of happiness, back to relying on myself to meet my needs. Turning to myself for the unconditional love and support I crave. And I see how the more I love and approve and accept myself as I am, the more I can do that for others. Once I fill up myself, any leftovers can be given to other people.
The other issue Ryan’s death brought up for me was fear. Fear of what will happen to me. Fear I won’t realize my dreams. Fear of the future, which really means lack of trust. Lack of trust what’s best for me will happen. Lack of trust I’ll be taken care of. I would like to release my need for fear and instead turn my fear into trust and that’s done through love. Love for me and love for the Supreme.
Because life is magical, I of course came across this post on Louise L. Hay’s website (which I recommend reading) that deals with this very subject. Louise articulates exactly what I’ve been feeling using the exact same imagery. Before I came across the article, I wrote an email to a friend saying how I think fear obscures our brightness. How fear is like a cloud that blocks out the sun. And how I’d rather live in the light. How I’d rather realize my own magnificence. In fact, that’s one of the affirmations Louise recommends: “I am now willing to only see my magnificence.”
I realize I created this mental pattern, this need for fear, but so too I realize I can uncreate it. I have the power to change my mind and I use that power to create a life I wish to lead. I want to feel loved at all times. I want to feel safe at all times in all situations. I want to trust in my Creator and my Creator’s plan for me. I want to realize my magnificence and rise above thoughts that attempt to make me afraid. I am already cradled by the divine in each and every moment – now it’s up to me to remember that.
I dream of a world where we love ourselves unconditionally. Where we feel safe in the here and now. Where we release our need for fear. Where we recognize ourselves to be bright, shining stars. A world where peace and harmony reign. A world where we feel at ease because we know and trust all our needs will be met. A world filled with magic and wonder and awe. A world where we see everything as an expression of an infinite, loving consciousness, ourselves included.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Many moons ago I fell in love with a guy who “made” me feel the highest highs (and the lowest lows). Being around him brought out the creative side of me, the side that writes poetry, the side that appreciates art and synchronicity and mysticism. When things didn’t work out between us I was crushed for many reasons, one of which was the belief that I would never feel the same again. That I would never feel a love so intense, a bliss so blissful, or a creativity so constant. You’ll notice that I put that first “made” in quotes — that’s because he didn’t make me feel anything that wasn’t already within me.
This stuff is already in us, just like how ice can’t be made without water.
The other day I watched a TV show (I won’t say which one because, well, spoilers) and one of the characters lamented the loss of her paramour because he brought out the creative side of her, a kind of magic she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to recreate without him. Her friend responded, “Honey, don’t forget that was already in you all along.” Now, people have been saying variations on that to me for a while, but it wasn’t until I watched this TV show and heard the words said in precisely that way it sunk in. I finally felt in my heart: “Oh, right. Those feelings, that creativity, already existed inside of me. It wasn’t a magical conjuring by this guy. It didn’t appear out of thin air.”
For a long time I thought the only way I could ever feel as blissful, creative, alive, etc. ever again was to be around that guy or to find another one. The internal feelings within me were always dependent on the presence of someone else (or something else). Realizing all of these feelings, this creativity, this magic exists within me frees me from the chains of external attachments. Frees me from the belief I have to have someone else around in order to feel them.
I bring this up because so often I hear people talking about how they need to go to India to find spirituality, or they need to go to this place to feel at peace. Or they need to date so and so in order to be happy. Or whatever, I’m sure you’ve heard the same things. Of course external things influence how we feel, I’m not denying that, but what I am saying is our joy, our bliss, our creativity, fill in the blank, are not dependent on external people, places, or things. Those feelings exist within us all along. Another person wouldn’t be able to bring them out of us just like how you can’t make ice without water.
Take me for instance. I still write poetry on occasion and I still appreciate art. I don’t have to have somebody in my life in order to bring out my creativity or help me love paintings, I can do that for myself. I don’t need to attach any of my internal qualities externally because the entire universe already exists inside of me — I have everything I need.
I dream of a world where we realize all the feelings we associate someone or something else bringing out in us we have inside already. A world where we remember we don’t have to go chasing after anything to elicit peace, joy, or love. A world where we treasure our inner landscape and play there often.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This weekend my friends and I talked a lot about myth and metaphor and how metaphors shape a person’s worldview. Myths and metaphors are important because they affect how we act and interact. For instance, if a person’s personal metaphor is that she is superwoman, she will attempt to do too much and swoop in and save others, and often to her detriment. Or if a person’s worldview is that we are all one big family, he or she will treat others with love, respect, and compassion.
I’m still working out what my personal metaphor is, but what I can tell you is it’s changing and thus how I’m showing up in the world is changing.
I love the phoenix myth and the idea of being reborn after destruction.
At my core I am a loving person – I have a huge heart and I care deeply about all living beings. However, because I am so sensitive, especially when I was younger I didn’t feel safe being my loving, soft and feminine self. The world felt too big, scary, and rough. Like dropping a teddy bear in a field of velociraptors – if you do, it’s going to get ripped to shreds. My solution was to become like a medieval knight and put on loads of armor. If I wore armor that meant I wouldn’t get hurt. But my true self is loving and love is expansive; it doesn’t want to be contained and is not satisfied with existing inside a suit of armor.
Something about this whole Saturn return thing that I’m still undergoing is stripping away false beliefs and ways of being. Even as I wanted to be a medieval knight, even as I aspired to be hardhearted and fierce, I don’t think anyone ever actually perceived me that way. My point, and the reason for the title of this post, is that sometimes we think we know who we are, but often our perception doesn’t match up to reality. And more importantly, if we change the deep underlying story we operate from, we change how we show up in the world.
More and more I’m becoming love personified, that’s who I really am, that’s how most people perceive me I think. I want my new story to be that it’s safe to be soft, feminine, vulnerable, and loving. I want my perceived weakness to become my greatest strength. I want to exist in the world as I actually am, not who I think I should be.
I’m driving at two points here: 1.) who we think we are is often not who we actually are and 2.) the personal narrative we operate from is deeply important. I’m advocating that we realign who we actually are with a story that works for us and works for the betterment of the world.
I dream of a world where we each show up authentically. A world where we allow ourselves to be who we really are. A world where we take a closer look at the metaphorical stories we’re operating from and decide if they’re working for us. A world where we understand we can change our stories and as we change our stories we change our lives.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I didn’t think I was going to write any new material today because I am zonked, but then inspiration hit and I realized I wanted to share this.
Lately, perfectionism and people pleasing have been coming up for me. I’ve held this belief that if I wasn’t perfect, if I wasn’t giving of myself, others wouldn’t continue to like me, wouldn’t want to maintain a relationship with me. There’s been a fear that if I didn’t constantly give my gifts in friendship, people I love would disappear.
A lot of my past work using affirmations has been saying, “Rebekah, I love you for who are,” and that’s great! It’s been so helpful and has completely changed my life. However, right or wrong, I’m at the point now where I want to believe the same is true of friends, i.e. that my friends also love me for who I am, not what I do or give. I know I can’t ask anyone to say these things to me, but perhaps you feel the same and would like to hear it, so I’m going to tell it to you, my readers, my friends, the people I associate with. Here is my open letter to you:
Dear (insert your name here),
I love you for exactly who you are, right now. I love your authenticity, your vulnerability. I love your quirks. I love the things that set you apart from the crowd. I love how you stand up for yourself and how you hold fast to your convictions. I love that you’re willing to be weird because in your weirdness there is you and I love you.
I want to tell you, you don’t have to change for me. You don’t have to be perfect for me. Perfection does not equal love, but humanness does. You’re experimenting in life and so am I and I love you for it. I love that you’re willing to show up for life, to have the courage to keep going even after you make mistakes. I love your boldness.
Please keep being you and please know that if other people don’t like you for who you are, they’re not meant to be in your life. Birds of a feather flock together and you are in my flock. We are meant to stick together, chinks and all.
I love when you’re real with me. I love when you let me in and show me what’s really going on with you. I love when your walls are down, when you’re honest, when you’re crying. That is how I connect with you. I don’t want to see your mask; I can’t click with your mask, so please take it off when you’re with me.
You are a bright, shining light, and I want you to know it’s safe for you to be you, especially around me.
All my love,
Rebekah
I dream of a world where we know we are loved for who we are. A world where we realize the people in our lives love us for us, and if they don’t, the relationship is not serving our best interests. A world where we keep tearing our walls down because our authenticity is what brings about the most love.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve blogged once a week for approximately five years. That’s . . . a lot of blogposts. I realize some of you have been reading “Another World is Probable” from the beginning, but quite a few of you haven’t. There are some gems in my archives that I want to highlight and even if you’ve read it before, I figure we can all use a reminder every now and again. I know I could. So, here in its entirety is a post from April 2010:
I used to believe I had to “conquer” my fears. I used to be of the mindset I had to squash doubt flat, or wrestle with my other issues until I won. That I had to assert my will and come out the victor. I realized a while ago that’s not the case at all.
In January I wrote a journal entry I’ve been meaning to share but haven’t yet:
Jan. 27, 2010
I realized tonight this fear is not mine, it doesn’t belong to me. I’ve been trying to take ownership of it. To claim it. To bust through it. To work around it. But it’s like a blind man getting caught tangled in a cloak. I’ve been trying to chew holes in it and rip it apart, but ultimately can’t get rid of it until I just take it off, recognizing it doesn’t belong to me. Because it doesn’t. There’s no use in trying to work with or tame fear – it can’t be tamed. Only released. It was never mine to begin with. It always belonged to God so I give it back to its rightful owner, where God can transmute it into love. That was never my responsibility. My only job was to let it go, to surrender.
I don’t know why this picture makes me think “transcendence” but it does.
While that particular journal entry was about fear I think it can apply to anything and everything. I don’t ever really “work through” my issues so much as release them. Some people would say to me, “Yes, but Rebekah, the only way to get rid of a fear like public speaking is to just go out and do it. Take a class and practice.” I would say let’s take a look at what’s really going on. What happens when we practice something like public speaking? We decide it’s not as scary as we thought. Because we’re doing what scares us, we realize it’s not so bad. We release the fear in our mind. So again, the point of power, the point of change, is in the mind, not the action.
Whenever I talk about surrender and release someone invariably says to me, “Yes but you still have to do stuff. You can’t just sit around.” Sometimes I think we confuse surrender and avoidance. Avoidance is fear-based. When I avoid something it’s because I’m afraid, I don’t want to do it, whatever. If I were to say, “I surrender my fear of public speaking,” and then refuse to speak in public whenever I’m given the opportunity, that’s not really surrendering the fear, is it? That’s avoidance.
Surrender means to release, to let go, to no longer fight. When I surrender fear and doubt I release them to love. I give them to infinite love. I no longer wrestle with them using my ego, or the willful part of me. The part of me that thinks I handle everything by myself, the part of me that thinks I am separate from everyone and everything else. Essentially the part of me that disconnects from all-pervasive love.
When I surrender, when I release, when I let go, I transcend all those issues. I transcend my little “I” and my little “I” issues and instead remember all is love. Instead I remember I am love incarnate.
I dream of a world where instead of “working” on our issues we just let them go. A world where we remember we are divine, magnificent beings, and our true nature is love. A world where we see ourselves for who we really are – embodiments of love. A world where we transcend all that is unlike love and live in a place of peace and harmony.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
On Saturday after I woke up, I asked myself, “What do you need today? What do you need to receive today?” My answers were “rest” (a perennial response) and “grace.” That seemed interesting because how does one receive grace and what is grace exactly?
For me, grace means synchronistic events and is one way the universe expresses love for me. Sure enough, I experienced a few synchronicities yesterday. The first was catching an earlier BART train than I anticipated despite my bus showing up several minutes late – a miracle for any public transportation rider. Also, I wanted to buy some protein powder but didn’t want to spend a fortune. Wouldn’t you know it? The grocery store was having 20 percent off ALL protein powders! Then, when I got home, I spotted an email in my inbox about someone giving away their printer inkjet cartridge for free, the exact type of ink I need, and in fact, am running low on.
This picture was too good for me to pass up.
Even thinking about all the events right now puts a smile on my face.
Why am I blogging about receiving grace? Why am I mentioning all of these events? I think a key component of receiving grace is being open to help. So often I believe I can handle life all on my own – I have all the answers, I already know what to do, where to go, etc. I shut myself off from possibilities, from creative solutions, and from divine help.
In my yoga and meditation group I’ve heard this quote (which I’m paraphrasing) about a bajillion times: “God’s grace is always raining down on your head, but if you’re carrying an umbrella of ego how will you feel it?” I’ve heard that quote (or something like it) so often it’s lost all meaning. The definition of the ego and how to remove it is perhaps a post for another time, but right now my personal process for getting drenched in the grace rain shower is to practice openness and willingness. What I didn’t mention is money is tight for me right now due to unexpected expenses, and so I need as much help as I can get, which means these episodes of grace are all the more sweet.
Because I’m not trying to be the director/stage manager/lighting designer/sound engineer/costume designer/props mistress of my life, the universe gets to fulfill those roles for me. I’ve created space for the universe (or whatever you want to call it) to come in. I’ve removed the umbrella of ego from my head at least temporarily because I’m willing to receive grace, I’m willing to do things differently, and I’m willing to admit I don’t know everything.
I dream of a world where we all experience untold grace. A world where we have the willingness to ask for help. A world where do our part and let the universe do its. A world where we allow ourselves to receive grace.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
When I ride the bus it opens up my world and forces me to mix with people I might not otherwise. On Wednesday, I rode the bus and felt like crying hearing the stories around me – the snippets of people talking about being addicted to weed, the demeanor of the woman who looked ready to punch someone, the homeless people camping out at bus shelters. My heart broke a little because I care so much. I care so deeply. Yes, my sensitivity is probably over the top at the moment, but I can’t help that.
As tears started to leak from my eyes, a woman walked on the bus and sat in front of me. Her shirt said “love” down both the sleeves. In that moment I cried even harder because it struck me love is the container for all things. Even while I was crying, love was still there; in this case, literally. Love means it’s safe for me to cry, safe for me to be angry, safe for me to feel whatever I want. All of my emotions, all of my everything, really, are held in the container of love.
I know this is a trash can but there’s a heart on it. So love is literally acting as a container!
Often I think love is separate from icky emotions or things I cast judgment upon. I think there is love and then there is everything else. What I’m coming to realize, however, is that’s false. Love is not outside of all these things, love IS everything; it’s omnipresent.
Nothing escapes the purview of love, nothing is outside of love. There is a Sanskrit mantra I sing every day that translates as “love is all there is.” For the longest time I couldn’t wrap my head around that definition and preferred the longer version: “Everything is an expression of an infinite, loving consciousness.” But today I finally “get” it. Love holds everything, even war, disease, famine, and poverty.
This blogpost may not make sense to many of you, but I hope someone understands what I’m trying to say, which is, even when we think it’s not, love is there. In truth, this concept transcends language so to really understand what I mean, I ask that you take a second to feel what I’m saying.
I dream of a world where we feel love in all things. A world where we understand it’s safe to feel however we’re feeling because we’re being held by divine love. A world where we understand nothing is outside of love because love is all there is.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I didn’t think so many song lyrics would make their way into my blog but here they are! On Friday I dance walked to Brett Dennen’s song “Darlin’ do not fear what you don’t really know” and was struck by how appropriate it is right now.
Give it a listen:
The parts I love the most are, “Darlin’ do not fear what you don’t really know because it won’t last, your worries will pass, all your troubles they don’t stand a chance,” and, “Sometimes your path is marked in the sky, sometimes it fails to fit in between the lines.” Sing it Brett!
I am in two emotional places right now. In one, I am relieved because my worries have passed for the time being. I’m living in a huge house on the outskirts of Washington, D.C. with friends, there is no loud bass music blaring, no yippy dogs, no obnoxious neighbors, and for the first time in a long while I feel financially healthy because I’m not paying rent. Woo! Yes! Life is good! I have escaped from the bowels of hell that has been my life since August of 2011 and I’ve started taking a tincture to reset my nervous system (that’s the real miracle right there).
Brett’s other song lyric about how sometimes your path is marked in the sky and sometimes it fails to fit in between the lines is apt because, well, who would have thunk I’d be back on the East Coast? Certainly not me. I don’t plan on being here long term, but it’s certainly nice as a rest stop (ba-dum ching). The other emotional state I’m in is anxious, not so much about the future, but rather wading into things I know nothing about. If you want to see me clam up tighter than a barnacle clinging to a ship, throw something completely new at me and ask me to forge ahead. For instance, sales and marketing of my book. You want me to do what now? Please excuse me while I flap my arms around and hyperventilate. Brett is asking me to not fear what I don’t really know. My amazing life coach also reminded me of some tools to use when my inner barnacle makes an appearance:
- Bring out the warrior in me to activate my courageous side
- Remember everything is an expression of an infinite loving consciousness, and thus I don’t need to attach to any outcomes. Let go and let God, as it were.
- Have compassion for myself. Honor my feelings, acknowledge I’m scared, and let myself know it’s OK.
- Ask for divine presence, whether that’s angels, God, a mysterious force, a feeling, whatever, to help me feel I’m not so alone
- Contemplate, “What’s the worst that can happen?”
I feel better already! I don’t need to fear the unknown because I have a toolkit to help with it all. And maybe you have a few tools to add. Let me know in the comments.
I dream of a world where we are in the ease and flow of life. A world where we dismantle our fears in a healthy, loving way. A world where we express joy and recognize our worries will pass, our troubles don’t stand a chance. A world where we don’t fear what we don’t really know.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I'm reading Doreen Virtue's Solomon's Angels and the main character is speaking to Archangel Michael and he says:
"Every moment around the world, there are thousands of examples of love," Michael said to me. "You are watching it in action right now, which is the most powerful demonstration of the Divine energies. The more you notice and practice love in action, the more you will enjoy the dynamic flow of your life." — Doreen Virtue. Solomon's Angels: A Novel (pp. 178-179). Kindle Edition.
Last night as I read that sentence I put the book down (or my computer as it were) and thought about all the instances of love in my life. And I don't mean how my parents love me or how pets love me. I started to see all my life circumstances through eyes of love so they can be healed. It's been very challenging for me to let go of the bitterness in my heart about the events of this past year, and last night I started to crack that façade and start seeing through the eyes of love instead.
Seeing through the eyes of love!
I left my beloved apartment on Post Street so I could be safe. I moved into a sublet in the Mission district so I could meet M, who is my human local connection to Judaism (such as it is). Because as much as I don't understand it, I have a deep love for some of the practices and I enjoy celebrating the Jewish New Year. And I wouldn't have met him if I hadn't left Post Street.
I am so very, very appreciative of how all this drama with my housing has led me to become closer to my community. How I bonded with K while painting my room in the Mission. How I got much closer to S and L because I didn't ever want to be home. How I was able to spend time with A and his wife. I don't think any of that would have happened if I'd been in my bubble on Post Street hibernating. I guess that's also what this has been about. Coming out of my shell and being more in the world. My friend B says higher power sends me places. She may be right because I've certainly been sent out in the world!
I see with eyes of love this lack of sleep and physical problems because the truth is they've been out of whack for years and because I'm melodramatic, it takes something really huge to get my attention and force me to change, and now I am.
I'm grateful for the apartment I just moved out of because it showed me it's really important to have good neighbors. How I can't tolerate living somewhere with lower or negative energy. And how it's important for me to not settle for anything. To always, always follow what makes my heart sing and not give into my fears no matter the circumstances.
I'm also grateful for that apartment I just left because it's led me here, and this is such a sweet setup. No rent, a pool, gorgeous Arizona, and gift cards for food as well as gas and use of the car. All my needs are met in abundance. I had to go through hell to get here but I think it was worth it.
I'm even grateful for the break in a few months ago because my need to feel safe/protect others and worry about their safety has been a lingering issue. I'm grateful it happened so the issue could finally be healed as I realize I'm not responsible for anyone else.
I'm seeing all of these situations with a much broader perspective. I'm seeing them as a perhaps a loving higher power would. And because I am, it all becomes easier to deal with. I can see the good in the bad and understand there is love behind it all.
I dream of a world where we all see with the eyes of love. A world where we find the benefit in all the things we go through, even the "bad" stuff. A world where we truly believe everything happens for a reason in our best interest. A world where we notice all the love and thus amplify it.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
If you're here after reading my post on Tiny Buddha, welcome! There's not much you need to know about me other than I'm an idealist but feel free to poke around.
This weekend I've been in New Hampshire to attend a wedding for some friends of mine. A few months ago I wrote a post about feeling at peace where I am, and this weekend has been the proof in the pudding. Normally when I attend a wedding I lament that I'm all by myself, that I don't have a boyfriend yet, blah, blah, blah. This weekend was the complete antithesis because even though I was on my own I didn't feel apart from, I felt a part of a group. I felt cloaked in kinship and oneness with those around me. So often we talk about "one" being the loneliest number but we also lionize being at one with nature, being at one with ourselves. It's become synonymous with peace and tranqulity. So maybe "one" is not such a bad number.
I booked a hotel fairly far away from downtown not by choice but more through happenstance. I didn't rent a car but rather counted on the fact other people would shuttle me around, and they did. I felt so taken care of by those around me nothing seemed missing at all. At the wedding I sat at a table full of my friends so it didn't even occur to me I would need a date. Because I didn't. I was full of friendship and love.
Being dateless at a wedding has become tantamount to wearing white after Labor Day — it's something we're not "supposed" to do and yet so many of us do it anyway. I've noticed in U.S. culture we like to partner up and then move somewhere to start a family. Maybe this is a model based on the Wild West when in order to populate the nation people had to couple up and move far away. But that's not the case anymore. Now it's more beneficial to have a support system, which allows for people to live on their own because they don't have to rely on only one other person. What I've noticed is as I've sought to meet my needs in my community my desire for partnership has lessened. One doesn't feel like the lonelinest number because there are so many other people I can turn to. There are so many other options for help. There is so much love for me spread out all over the place that it doesn't need to be concentrated within one other person — it's been diluted in many.
I am very tired and very sick so I don't know how well my point is coming across, but in essence I'm finally understanding — and living — the idea being alone is not the horrible state I was making it out to be. It hasn't made me a pariah. It hasn't made me less of a person. I think it's mostly because I feel very loved and very included wherever I go, even if I'm all by myself. And I feel this way after a wedding, a time that I used to feel my single status most acutely. It's my wish that other people will come to the same realization I did.
I dream of a world where everyone feels loved, held, and whole. A world where everyone gets their needs met whether they're in a relationship or not. A world where we all feel a sense of community and kinship. A world where we understand one is not the lonelinest number after all.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.