Another World is Probable

This post comes to you from Denmark where I’m visiting a friend. What I’ve found so interesting is the landscape is similar to other places I’ve been. While taking the train, looking out the window, I was reminded of Middle America — except there were more windmills. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought I was passing through Iowa.

Then today at the beach, I looked around and the combination of the sand’s color, dunes, and water reminded me of the Outer Banks in North Carolina. I’m sure there are some places in Denmark that are completely unique to this region, but today at the beach, I was reminded things are more the same than they are different, and especially in these times, it’s important to keep looking at what binds us rather than what divides us.

I thought about including a windmill pic but how could I resist this photo?

In our world today, there are some people who are trying to create division. People who are trying to use one group or another as a scapegoat for the world’s problems. That to me is dangerous. When we start saying, “All of these people are like this,” or “Those people are like that,” we further enhance our separateness. It’s when we start creating an “us” and “them” mindset that it becomes easier to mistreat people. It’s easier to justify atrocious acts when a person becomes someone who is “not like me.”

My spiritual teacher says this kind of thinking makes different groups become more violent toward each other, which is extremely dangerous for human civilization.

Haven’t we had enough of that? I’m not naïve enough to think there will never be any conflicts in the world, but I think we start moving in a better direction when we realize, to paraphrase Shakespeare, that we all bleed when we are pricked. We all feel pain and joy. We all want to be happy and to realize our dreams.

My teacher also says, “The collectivity is not outside you – your future is inseparably connected with the collective fortune. You must take the entire collectivity with you and move towards the sweetest radiance of the new crimson dawn, beyond the veil of the darkest night.”

I think we move towards the sweetest radiance of the new crimson dawn when we realize we are more similar than we are different. Heck, not just us as people, but also the landscape, as I’ve discovered while I’ve been in Denmark. We are not that different, you and I.

I dream of a world where we remember we are more similar than we are different. A world where we focus on what unites us rather than divides us. A world where we remember people are people everywhere. A world where we work together to move toward the new crimson dawn.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

For better or for worse, I take responsibility for everything in my life. Poor? That’s my doing. Single? My fault. Sick? That’s on me. That’s the message we receive over and over in our society; that we’re the master of our fate and the captain of our soul. However, I’m reminded, again, that’s not entirely true.

One of my friends has been heartbroken over and over again. He mentioned it to a psychic and the psychic said my friend is repeatedly getting his heart broken because in a past life he was an abuser of women, and in this life, being on the receiving end of heartbreak is his retribution. The karma is being balanced, if you will. Furthermore, the psychic said my friend’s current beau was one of those abused women in a past life, which explains so much about their relationship dynamic. The beau is very timid around my friend, walking on eggshells, and learning how to reclaim her power in the relationship. The two were thrown together in this life because they have some unfinished business.

This? I’m not responsible for.

When my friend told me this story, I felt such relief because I’m reminded I am not to blame for everything in my life. That there are forces at work in my life and everyone else’s life that I haven’t thought about or even begun to understand. It’s like dominoes — one falling domino sets off a chain reaction, but the reaction may not manifest until down the road. Things I’ve done in past lives are still affecting me now. It’s a law of nature that for every action there will be a reaction, and knowing that I feel relief.

Maybe I’m single not because I choose the wrong men or am too picky or a leper, or any other reason I could come up with that points the finger at me. Maybe I’m single for reasons I haven’t even entertained, like things I did in a past life. Similarly, maybe I’m not a world-renowned inspirational speaker for the same reasons. Maybe all of it has absolutely nothing to do with me and instead I’m undergoing reactions for things I did in the distant past.

Instead of thinking of myself as the master of my fate, maybe it’s better to think of myself as a musician. Right now I’m like the first violinist who has her sheet music but is forgetting there are other musicians in the orchestra, and furthermore that there’s a conductor overseeing the whole piece. I like to think of myself as the conductor, but I’m not, I’m the violinist.

I am extremely tired so I don’t know if I’m getting my point across, but what I’m trying to say here is we aren’t in control of every aspect of our lives. We aren’t to blame for every crappy thing that happens to us, nor are we to blame for every good thing that happens to us. There is something else present, and that presence is God or higher power or whatever term you have for it. For better or for worse, we are not alone and we are not in charge.

I dream of a world where we remember higher power is present in all things and situations. A world where we realize we are not in control of everything nor are we to blame for everything. A world where we take ourselves off the hook and remember we are not the conductor of this orchestra, but rather we are the musicians.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

I have to admit, right now I’m not feeling all that optimistic. There’s a lot of negativity in the news and it seems almost certain we’re going to hell in a hand-basket.

My spiritual teacher says, “There are some people who are pessimistic. They say that the society around us is very bleak, that it has no expression of vitality and that it seems that everyone is in a deep slumber. Pessimists say this because they have never made any detailed study of human history, nor do they care to. Had they done so, they would certainly be optimistic, because if they had looked carefully at the symptoms of pause, they would have realized that significant preparations were being made for the subsequent phase of speed. So under no circumstances should human beings be pessimistic. That is why I am always an incorrigible optimist, because I know that optimism is life.”

The future is bright.

Reading that makes me feel a little better. Maybe what we’re going through right now is not all that special or unique. Maybe this is merely history repeating itself, another phase in the human cycle. Also, I’m reminded there are some pretty amazing things happening in the world.

Did you hear about that Dutch teenager who is cleaning up the ocean? Or how about that $16 water pump in India that will provide clean water to a family for a year? Or how in Yemen they’re fighting a water shortage by harvesting fog?

It’s easy to get sucked into doom and gloom, to think the world is a terrible place, that nothing is improving, and nothing will ever change. I know this because I feel that way from time to time, which is why I have to remind myself over and over it’s not true. I just listed three news stories about how human beings are tackling real-world problems.

I’m an optimist not because I have my head in the sand and think nothing bad will ever happen again. I’m an optimist because I see that despite problems like pollution, dirty water, and a drought, people are doing something about it and will continue to do something about it. That there are solutions to all our problems. That no matter what is thrown at us, we will overcome it.

I’m going to quote my spiritual teacher again because I think he sums this up quite nicely. He says, “[H]uman beings should always be optimistic. The cimmerian darkness cannot retard your progress, cannot cover the light of the human heart. The spirit of your heart must move on and on against obstacles. Kick away your obstacles like pebbles from your feet – you are stronger than your obstacles.”

Amen to that. We are stronger than our obstacles. For every problem there is a solution and we will solve it. We are solving it, personally as well as globally. Our progress cannot be retarded and that’s a future I want to live in.

I dream of a world where we maintain our optimism. A world where we remember we are stronger than our obstacles. A world where we act on inspiration to make the world a better place. A world where we realize the future is bright.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

“People have a need for meaning and for belonging,” Dr. Gabor Maté writes. “But this society defines the value of a human being by how much they can either produce or consume. For all our talk about human values, we don’t really value humans for who they are. We value them for what they either give or purchase.”

I’ve been thinking about Maté’s quote a lot lately. In my post last week, “We Can Do Better than This,” I mentioned one of the plights of capitalism: homelessness. The underlying sentiment is if a person is poor, or mentally ill, or physically incapacitated, or old, they have no value. They can neither produce or consume anything so they are shunted off to the side where we don’t have to think about them. However, I would like to point out it’s not only certain segments of society who are harmed by the notion of what is valuable, it’s all of us.

On Tuesday, my dear friend Amal called me up and asked if I’d like to go to the Chapel of the Chimes, which is a crematory and columbarium. Afterward, we walked through the adjacent cemetery and watched the sunset. Seeing the sun set over the bay, I felt like crying because this, this, is what life is really about – not checking off my to-do list, not producing content, not building up my following on social media.

The sunset I mentioned. Photo credit Amal.

In our materialistic society, I absolutely define my value by what I’m producing and I know businesses define my value by how much I’m able to consume. That means if I don’t produce something every single day, my perceived self-worth diminishes. Heaven forbid I take a rest day! That’s also why my health condition, maladaptive stress syndrome, is so freaking challenging: I’m tired all the time. I need more rest than the average person, but that also means I can’t do as much as the average person. And because I can’t do as much, produce as much, my self-worth goes in the toilet.

I have to remind myself over and over what my life is really about, which is to achieve a divine union, and that’s not dependent on how much money is in my bank account or how many followers I have on instagram. Furthermore, my spiritual teacher says, “The Milky Way is vast from one end to the other; an ant is a very small creature, but the role of both of them in maintaining the balance of the universe is equal. If one ant meets a premature death, it will disturb the balance of the entire cosmos. Therefore, nothing here is unimportant, not even an ant.”

That means I’m important, you’re important, we’re important even if we never win a Nobel prize or an Oscar, because our worth is not inherent on what we’re doing. I could lie in bed all day every day and be just as important as a school teacher. I have to tell you I have so much resistance to saying that, but I’d really like to believe it’s true. If the Milky Way is just as important as an ant, how could it not be?

I dream of a world where we recognize our inherent value and worth as precious human beings. A world where we realize we matter just because we are alive. A world where we remember we are blessed children of the universe, no less and no more important than anyone else. A world where we remember who we really are.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

A part of me doesn’t want to write about this because it makes me uncomfortable, but I was affected so deeply I know that I must.

On Thursday, I went into San Francisco and while there, walked through a BART station corridor covered with ads for Gap. The walls and floor showed image after image of beautiful people wearing denim with the slogan: “1969: new generation.” All throughout the corridor, homeless people were passed out or holding up cardboard signs asking for money. One man sat on the floor, on top of the Gap ad, with his back against the wall, head held down with matted hair, literally covered in his own feces. That was the encounter that broke me.

This picture encapsulates this post for me.

The juxtaposition of a man, wearing jeans no less, covered in his own crap while sitting on an ad touting a time period of turmoil and change was too much for me, the irony too great. I walked away feeling helpless and downtrodden because what am I, little old me, supposed to do about this? I am not a policymaker, I am not a housing developer, I’m a journalist, so I’m doing what I do best: writing about it.

When people talk about the American dream, about there being no limits to the heights they can reach and the money they can make, they forget there is a price. P.R. Sarkar says, “[W]hen capitalists declare, ‘We have amassed wealth by our talent and labor. If others have the capacity and diligence, let them also do the same; nobody prevents them,’ they do not care to realize that the volume of commodities on the Earth is limited, whereas the requirement is common to all. Excessive individual affluence, in most cases, deprives others of the minimum requirements of life.”

We are all in this together so that means, no, one person should not be allowed to accumulate massive amounts of wealth unchecked. To do so, the uber wealthy “reduce others to skin and bones gnawed by hunger and force them to die of starvation; to dazzle people with the glamour of their garments, they compel others to wear rags,” Sarkar writes. That’s exactly what I witnessed on Thursday and I’m not OK with it. We are one big family, literally, and it’s time we started acting like it.

I’m writing to say the world doesn’t have to be this way, we don’t have to say “yes” to this. Alternatives exist such as Prout, the Progressive Utilization Theory. It’s a paradigm of development that places economic power in the hands of people and communities, nurtures living beings, promotes equity, ends exploitation, and maintains sustainable balance with the biosphere.

If Prout doesn’t float your boat, that’s OK, but something needs to change. We can’t keep going on like we have, that much is clear. I don’t know how this new economy will come about, or what action needs to occur. All I know is in the meantime, I’m talking about it with you. I’m telling as many people as I can because I want to live in a better world and I really believe we can make it so.

I dream of a world where homelessness is eradicated. A world where there is a cap on wealth. A world where everyone’s basic needs are met. A world where we take care of each other because we recognize we are one, big, universal family. A world where we do better than this.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

On Monday, I woke up feeling gross. In physical pain, emotionally drained, tired, and just generally cranky. I wished more than anything that I wasn’t in a physical body. Being a spirit, or angel, or something without form, sounded great. No pain! Just bliss! Alas, that’s not true.

Many years ago, a good friend told me there are only two positions for the feelings switch: on or off. That means either I’m numbed out to everything – joy, sorrow, anger, pain – or I have to feel everything. I can’t pick and choose which emotions I may feel. And that means some days I want to be over as quickly as possible.

If we’re not physical, we can’t enjoy things like skateboarding.

The idea of being a free-floating spirit is so tantalizing though! Would I be in bliss all day long? Would it be a non-stop pleasure fest? No, no it would not because a body is necessary to feel anything at all. And when I’m having a terrible day where I’m in physical pain and everything sucks, of course I don’t want to feel anything. But as my friend reminds me, feeling nothing means I also shut out the good things. The exhilaration of a roller coaster. The joy of spending time with a good friend. The peace of a gorgeous sunset. Without nerve fibers, there is . . . nothing so I must be physical.

I want to be happy all the time. I want to feel good all the time. We live in a society where we’re told if we’re not happy, something is wrong and we need to fix it. Start using affirmations or keep a gratitude journal, or quit a job, dump that boyfriend, go on that vacation. Most people are selling the five keys to happiness, but what if there’s nothing wrong with feeling icky? What if that’s what it means to be human?

We are caught in a pleasure/pain cycle but that’s normal. My spiritual teacher says over and over again that a human body is necessary for meditation and to achieve the ultimate union I seek. That to me means being physical is essential. There are no shortcuts. I don’t get to dance with the divine unless I’m inhabiting a human form. That means feeling sad and angry and disheartened. It also means feeling happy and peaceful and inspired. I don’t get to have some but not others.

I dream of a world where we remember being human means feeling pleasure and pain. A world where we remember we can’t feel good all of the time. A world where we realize while the idea of being non-physical sounds appealing, to experience what we’re really after, a human body is required.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

I’ve been thinking about timing a lot lately. I feel a ton of internal pressure to get out in the world and do something! To become an inspirational speaker, to relaunch my business, etc. I’m surrounded by these messages all the time: “carpe diem,” “you’ll never feel fully ready to do something,” “you won’t be great when you first start, but you must start in order to be great,” etc. Everyone everywhere seems to be saying to me, “Get in the game, and get in the game now.”

On the other hand, I have resistance. Not due to fear, but a nagging sensation now is not the right time. I still have to take a nap every day. I tire out easily. I have lots of responsibilities and things on my plate at the moment. Do those sound like excuses? Maybe they are, but again, I keep thinking about timing.

Is it super cliche that I’m posting a pic of a surfer when talking about being in rhythm with the universe?

We’re coming upon the eight year anniversary of my move to San Francisco, on Valentine’s Day in fact. I think about how I moved out here and then it took me seven months to find a job and a place to live. That may not seem like a lot right now considering the state of our economy, but not having stable income or a place to live for that long was challenging to say the least.

I bring this up because so often I find myself jumping into something and then getting overwhelmed and backpedaling only to pick it up later. This has happened to me over and over again. I have a theory about why this is the case for me. My spiritual teacher says, “Each and every created entity – whether crude, subtle, or causal – is vibrational and rhythmic. … The collective rhythms of all the rhythms emanating every moment from the countless objects of the cosmic imagination is called ‘universal rhythm.’”

My theory is that due to my highly intuitive nature, I’m peering ahead and picking up on the vibration and rhythm of something in the future, but not the present. And the reason things don’t work out when I want them to is because the rhythms and vibrations haven’t matched up yet. Here’s a great example. One of the first jobs I applied for in San Francisco was at a medical magazine. I felt sure I was going to get the job. On a deep level I knew I was going to work for that company, so when they turned me down, I was shocked, surprised, and confused. Here’s the funny thing though: seven months later I applied for a different job at a different magazine within the same company and got it.

What I’m saying here is that old adage “timing is everything,” is an adage for a reason. As much as I want to get out in the world and do stuff, it’s also important for me to acknowledge some things are out of my hands. That if I try too soon it’s like entering a bouncy house at the exact wrong moment: I’ll get bounced out. As much as I hate having to say this, and believe me, I do, what I’m coming to realize is patience is required of me sometimes. Sure, I can jump in, but my personal experience is I feel traumatized and it takes me a while to lick my wounds before I want to try again. Wouldn’t it be better for me to wait and pick my moment? To start bouncing in the house smoothly and seamlessly? To align my rhythm with the universe’s?

I dream of a world where we understand there is a natural rhythm and timing to everything in nature, including us. A world where we understand we have to be in sync with the vibration and rhythm of what we want before the entry is smooth. A world where we remember it’s still true: timing is everything.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

In December, a friend of mine posted this fascinating article about how everyone on Earth is actually your cousin. As if to hammer the point home, while watching People will Talk with Cary Grant, my dad announced Jeanne Crain is my cousin. What? You could have knocked me over with a feather.

Of course I think it’s cool that I’m related to a famous actress, but what I find even more interesting is the idea that I am literally related to everyone on Earth. Think about it: Even if we’ve never met before, we are related, we are family. What makes me laugh is that my spiritual teacher emphasizes this point over and over: that we are a universal family, that we are all brothers and sisters, and now I’ve stumbled across an article that gives credence to that idea.

We are all brothers and sisters.

What would the world look like if we behaved as if we were one big family? I can’t help but think we would treat other a little better. That there wouldn’t be an anti-immigration stance popping up in politics. That homelessness would be a thing of the past. That there wouldn’t be so much income inequality. But mostly, that we would show true caring for one another.

This is not a pipe dream, by the way. It may feel like that right now, but I know it’s not completely out of the realm of reality. I know this because I interact with people every day who hold the view point that we are all brothers and sisters. I see people taking a stance against racism, people who are outraged about police brutality, people who want to help unaccompanied minors fleeing their native lands in search of a better life. We are more compassionate, we are more loving. Life is not nearly as brutal as it used to be.

Instead of seeing the person down the street as “other,” I see more and more evidence we view that person as family. Let’s keep up this trend. Let’s keep opening our hearts, expanding our radius of love, and treating each other as if we were related, because it turns out, we are.

I dream of a world where we treat each other as family. A world where we extend care and appreciation to strangers because we recognize, they, too, are our brothers and sisters. A world where we keep taking action to manifest a world we wish to see.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

I know “little death” traditionally refers to the sensation of orgasm as likened to death, but not always, and that’s not what I’m writing about here. The little deaths I’ve been experiencing are the transformations taking place in me. I’ve been doing my work – going to therapy, taking care of myself, facing my demons – and the person I am now is not the person I once was. I’m behaving in new ways and thinking in new ways. These are positive changes, but it doesn’t mean I’m not sad, because I am. A part of me has died.

My spiritual teacher says, “Death is nothing but change. A 5-year-old child is transformed in due course into a 15-year-old boy. In 10 years, the child becomes the boy. Thereafter, you will never be able to find the body of the 5-year-old child. So the child’s body has certainly died.” He then goes on to mention the boy growing into a man, and then hitting middle age, then old age, until he finally dies and says, “The rest of the changes we do not call death; but in fact, all the changes qualify as death.”

Death is a part of life — both the big kind and the little one.

All the changes qualify as death because the person that used to exist cannot be found anymore. And while I’m not a girl becoming a woman, I have still undergone transformations and probably will continue to do so throughout my life. I will die many times. We all will. Through my work in therapy, I’m learning it’s important to grieve for these old selves. To feel a sense of loss for the person I once was and can no longer be. The sadness exists and doesn’t go away through any rationalization on my part, nor any amount of looking on the bright side. It’s important for me to honor and say goodbye to the person I once was, just as it’s important to honor and say goodbye to other people when they die.

What I’m getting at here is we’re constantly undergoing a metamorphosis and it’s important to recognize that. We’re constantly dying and being reborn. But how often do we cry about it? How often do we let ourselves feel bereaved over no longer existing the way we did before? It’s just as much of a loss as other deaths and it’s just as important to cry about it.

I’m going to end by quoting a song from one of my favorite musicals, Forever Plaid, called “Cry:”

If your heartache seems to hang around too long,
and your blues keep getting bluer with each song,
remember sunshine can be found behind a cloudy sky.
So let your hair down, and go on and cry.

I dream of a world where we cry for all the little deaths we undergo. A world where we honor all past versions of ourselves by allowing ourselves to feel grief. A world where we remember sunshine can be found behind a cloudy sky, so we let ourselves go on and cry.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.