Another World is Probable

I have a lot going on. But as my father says, “Rebekah, you always have a lot going on.” Touché Papa. Touché. What happens when I have a lot going on is my mind gets abuzz with all the what ifs. “What if I never get good sleep? What if I need to move again? What if I have a run in with my neighbor?” My mind whirls with possibilities and I contemplate how I’ll handle each one of them, or conversely, I worry what I’ll do in the future because I have no idea how I’ll handle them.

In a moment of clarity, it occurred to me it is not my responsibility to worry about the future. To contemplate all the possibilities, all the options, all the potentials. My mind cannot handle it, and besides, if I’ve been shown anything, it’s that my wildest dreams aren’t even close to what happens in reality (which is similar to the subtitle of my book). I mean, let’s take a look at the evidence. This time last year, I packed up my apartment, put my stuff into storage, and was en route to Tucson with no idea whether I would come back to California. Now, I’m living in a cottage in Oakland where I can see trees outside my windows. These are things that never entered my realm of possibility, but there you are.

Meditating, and even looking at pictures of meditation, helps me become present.

It’s important for me to stay present and in the moment because many of the things I worry about don’t even come to pass, and so I wasted all that time and energy and only accomplished feeling anxious and fearful. Guys, I’m so tired of feeling anxious and fearful. When I’m present, fear and anxiety do not exist because I recognize I am safe, I am alive, I have what I need, and all is well.

A part of this whole “being present” thing is trust. Trusting in my higher power, trusting in the universe, trusting that when I need to know something or do something, I will. When I’m present, I attach myself to a power greater than myself and let some other force work on the details. What I do instead is show up for my life and do what has been requested of me. In March, I made a public declaration of trust, and being present is an affirmation of that trust because it means I have let go of the possible outcomes I could conjure up, and instead allow limitless possibilities in my life, knowing all is well, all of my needs will always be met, and I will be guided to my next right action.

I dream of a world where we continue to be present. A world where we live in a place of peace and harmony. A world where we take guided action as need be but otherwise leave the rest up to the universe. A world where we trust in a force greater than us, and a world where we show up for our lives.

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.

I suck at transitions, especially when I’m not the one gallivanting off on the adventure. When my world stays the same minus one aspect – a friend moving away, for instance – then it’s as if I’ve entered the “Twilight Zone.” Life is the same but different. It’s this piece that drives me crazy, the instability, the insecurity, the ground shifting beneath my feet because things are not what they once were.

Every goodbye carries with it a new hello.

I’m not sure I have anything inspiring to say except I keep hearing an expression ringing in my ears: “You have to let go of the old to make way for the new.” When things are good, when I like the old, I don’t want to make way for the new. But I also recognize there could be some really good things up ahead. I could become close to someone new and my life could be enriched. I could experience something amazing I otherwise wouldn’t have been open to. Life could be so beautiful it would break my heart.

I guess where I’m at is grieving the loss, saying goodbye to the old, but understanding the new could be fantastic. And because I believe in an invisible hand, a guiding force, I know it will be in my best interest.

Am I sad to say goodbye to old friends? Yes, I am, BUT distance doesn’t mean the friendship dies and really, who knows what’s next?

I dream of a world where we clear the old to make way for the new. A world where we grieve for the past yet welcome the future. A world where we live each moment feeling grateful for what we have because we understand it won’t last forever.

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

There are some qualities about myself I do not like – namely insecurity and anxiety. Partly, I feel a lot of insecurity and anxiety due to my heightened sensitivity as my adrenal glands normalize, but the qualities are still within me. I’ve been struggling with these two for a long time as you’ll have noticed from reading this blog. My affirmations of late have been, “I release my need for insecurity and anxiety, I release all resistance,” but there hasn’t been any traction. The affirmation hasn’t held.

Friday morning I decided to take a new approach. The Queen of Self-Love, Christine Arylo, recommends loving the things about yourself you do not like. I’ve done this with great success – every morning I say, “Rebekah, I love how sensitive you are because that means you’re better able to accept and receive divine messages.” So I tried conducting the practice on insecurity and anxiety: “Rebekah, I love how insecure you are because that means you’re interested in connecting. I love how anxious you are because that means you care deeply.”

I love this! Fish with love!

My battered, war-torn soul sighed in relief from no longer having to engage in conflict. “Really? Do you mean it?” I asked. “I really do,” I replied.

A very wise monk, who unfortunately passed away in November, used to say that all anything wants is infinite, unconditional love. That means my insecurity just wants to be loved, my anxiety just wants to be loved, my fear just wants to be loved, etc. All innate characteristics want infinite love. However, I also know, “As you think, so you become,” which is why affirmations are so powerful. Do I really want to keep affirming my insecurity and anxiety? Do I really want to keep these things around?

No. I do not. So what I’m circling back to is releasing them, however, this time I release them out of love. And I think that makes all the difference. Instead of saying, “Ugh, I hate feeling so insecure and anxious. Go away and leave me alone!” I’m saying, “I love you for what you’ve done for me, but now I recognize I don’t need you anymore. I release you and let you go.” I don’t need anxiety to care about people, places, and things, nor do I need insecurity to tell me I crave connection.

Maybe nobody cares about this except for me, but it feels pretty big. To love something I used to hate and then still let it go. To love all parts of myself but recognize some of them do not serve me. To release the bad and hold onto the good. To be open to new ways of being. To love myself so much I say goodbye to the old and welcome the new. I’m walking into a new paradigm and I dream of that for others as well.

I dream of a world where we release the traits that aren’t working for us with love. A world where we love ourselves so much we know when it’s time to say goodbye to some of them. A world where we keep the lessons we’ve learned but discard the rest. A world where we’re open to transformation and then receive it.

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’ve wanted to write about this for a long time so I’m glad the opportunity finally presented itself. According to one theory, there are three relationship styles, also called attachment styles or systems. Usually, when we’re talking about attachment theory it’s in terms of parenting, i.e. how “attached” a child is to a parent. Since attachment theory was developed, researchers have started applying it to all relationships, not just parents and kids.

Here is a brief overview of the three kinds of attachment systems and how they play out:

In the strange situation [an experiment developed to study attachment styles], 12-month-old infants and their parents are brought to the laboratory and, systematically, separated from and reunited with one another. In the strange situation, most children (i.e., about 60%) behave in the way implied by Bowlby’s [the inventor of attachment theory] “normative” theory. They become upset when the parent leaves the room, but, when he or she returns, they actively seek the parent and are easily comforted by him or her. Children who exhibit this pattern of behavior are often called secure. Other children (about 20% or less) are ill-at-ease initially, and, upon separation, become extremely distressed. Importantly, when reunited with their parents, these children have a difficult time being soothed, and often exhibit conflicting behaviors that suggest they want to be comforted, but that they also want to “punish” the parent for leaving. These children are often called anxious-resistant. The third pattern of attachment … documented is called avoidant. Avoidant children (about 20%) don’t appear too distressed by the separation, and, upon reunion, actively avoid seeking contact with their parent, sometimes turning their attention to play objects on the laboratory floor. Source.

Like I said, this applies not only to kids, but to adults as well and comes out most prevalently in romantic relationships. For me, I’ve noticed my attachment system is at work in ALL of my relationships. (If you want to read more about this, and how your “bad luck” with romance could boil down to picking avoidants again and again, I highly recommend picking up Attached or checking out this article.)

How you feel internally is what you project externally and vice versa.

You may have already guessed, but I have anxious attachment. What that means in practical terms is if a friend is late and they haven’t told me they’re running late, I immediately start to feel anxious and envision them lying in a ditch somewhere. I start to fret and am unable to calm down until I hear from said friend.

I’m not nearly as anxious as I used to be because I’ve done a LOT of work on myself to become more secure, but sometimes my anxiety gets the best of me, like this week.

A friend of mine dropped off the face of the Earth for two weeks and at first I was fine with it, but then the thought came into my head that something could be seriously wrong. I am so embarrassed I acted out of my anxiety and sent him an email expressing my concern. Through the process, however, I’ve realized the external is internal.

My anxiety is not really about another person, I’m projecting because I feel insecure. I (unknowingly) flash back to childhood and being rejected or abandoned by my peers. I relive feeling anxious and insecure about getting my basic needs met. Hearing back from the person I’m worried about only temporarily fixes the problem, much like putting a band aid on a wound that requires stitches. The best thing I can do is reframe my past and heal myself.

Instead of replaying how certain people would be my friend and then all of a sudden stop talking to me, I can remember “rejection is God’s protection,” so perhaps those are people I wouldn’t want to be in my life anyway. And I can remind myself of how many friends from my childhood I do have. I have a busload and many of them live in the Bay Area. Sure, I only saw them one or two weeks out of the year at retreats, but the bond is there. Instead of focusing on the few people I never heard back from, I can feel gratitude for so many people who are still in my life. Most importantly, I can create security for myself by affirming I will never abandon myself and that I will always be around to take care of me.

I know this post is quite long, but the point I want to drive home is sometimes we think external things will fix us – if only so-and-so would call we’ll feel better – but we do not control other people and trying to do so only makes us feel crazy. The inner peace we seek only comes about from doing internal work, which is where the real healing is anyway.

I dream of a world where we recognize our external feelings are often projections of our internal ones. A world where we understand the real healing comes from reshaping our internal thoughts and beliefs. A world where we confront our traumas and then release them. A world where we understand to fix our external world we often have to work on our internal one.

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

This blogpost is an extension of “Being Taken Care Of.” There are many things in my life that I thought were random, that had neither rhyme nor reason to them. They happened just ‘cuz and that was the end of it. As I’m slowly unpacking my boxes (I’m mostly finished!), I’m seeing that’s not the case. There is rhyme and reason to everything, even the seemingly random and illogical things.

When I was in Tucson (which is a case of rhyme and reason in and of itself), I spent a good 10 minutes at Best Buy vacillating on whether to buy a small, portable speaker or a car stereo thingy that I could use to hook up my ipod. You see, I possessed a cassette-to-ipod device, but the woman’s car I was borrowing did not have a tape deck only a CD player. I had no desire to lug all of my CDs with me, and listening to music when I drive is a must, so there I was, debating which to get because the likelihood of me using either a speaker or car stereo thingy in the future seemed slim. I settled on the portable speaker and called it a day.

Life can be really poetic sometimes.

Now that I’m unpacking, I find myself using my portable speaker all the time. It’s so much easier than firing up my computer. Who knew that seemingly random purchase would come in handy down the road? Also, five years ago (I kid you not) I bought a cable bone to organize my cords and cables. That purchase has been sitting in its plastic wrap with the price tag on it for FIVE YEARS. I’ve been meaning to give it away or return it to the store for store credit because I’ve never found any use for it, and I’ve lived in multiple places since I first bought it. And now, it’s finally being put to use. My inner packrat feels vindicated.

These are not very good examples, I know, but they’re indicative of my larger life pattern. In a review of my book Just a Girl from Kansas, my friend wrote in a private message:

“I know it’s difficult to have hope when everything around you is falling apart or not going as planned, but reading your journey really filled me with a sense of no matter what there is a plan for you and everything will be OK and work out for the best.”

When I use my portable speaker or my cable bone or realize I’m experiencing x because I did y, it reminds me of that notion, that there is a plan for me, that everything will be OK, and that everything will work out for the best. I believe in fate AND free will. Really though I believe there is an invisible hand, a guiding force in my life, and when I take a step back for reflection, I see its presence. I see there is rhyme and reason for everything and for that I am grateful.

I dream of a world where we understand even the seemingly random events are connected by a thread leading to one thing and then another. A world where we appreciate that even if we don’t know the rhyme or reason now, we will. A world where we enjoy the poetry of our lives and watch as the rhymes manifest.

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

I’m hard on myself (maybe you’ve noticed) so this week has been extremely difficult because there are so many things vying for my attention — work, unpacking, laundry, dishes, grocery shopping, working on my blog redesign, recovery meetings — and I want to accomplish them all. Right this minute. Obviously I realize that’s impossible, and I understand the value of doing tasks little by little, but there’s more to it than that.

While on the phone with my recovery mentor on Friday I said, “This work, life, play balance is a bitch.” She laughed because she knows exactly what I mean. She said to me, “Something has to give and sometimes that’s our expectations.” Holy guacamole batman. In my mind, when she said “something has to give” my immediate thought was the cleanliness level of my house, i.e. taking that off of my to-do list but accomplishing everything else on it. So when she said instead that my expectations can give, my mind was blown. You mean I can throw away my expectation that I’ll have unpacked all of my belongings by now? You mean I can throw away my expectation that my blog redesign will have been completed by today, Sunday, the day my new posts go up? Whoa there. Just whoa.

I feel like this woman sometimes.

What I love about this is I can take myself off the hook. I allow myself more wiggle room. I allow myself the understanding sometimes things take longer than I think they will. And that’s OK. It means I don’t have to take anything off my to-do list but I do get to adjust the when. My self-will is subtracted out of the equation because instead I acknowledge some things are out of my control, even if they seem like they should be in my control! Unpacking, washing dishes, doing laundry, it seems like these things are in my hands, but I’m realizing they are and they are not because they are working in tandem with many other factors, thus when they get done is in this instance not up to me. I’m only human and I can only accomplish so much in a day.

In essence, I’m trying really hard to practice the acceptance part of the serenity prayer. I’ve heard many times that:

“Acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing, or situation — some fact of my life — unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing, or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing, happens in God’s world by mistake … [U]nless I accept life completely on life’s terms, I cannot be happy. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and in my attitudes.”

This means I also accept I’m not perfectly practicing this passage. It means I’m letting go of my expectations that just because I want to no longer feel fear, insecurity, lack, or what have you, doesn’t mean the feelings will necessarily disappear this instant. They could, but it’s foolish (and troublesome) for me to expect them to. I’m doing my best and that’s good enough. And in this instance, I’m releasing my expectation of what “my best” means.

I dream of a world where we release our expectations. A world where we understand sometimes things take longer than we planned. A world where we realize life is messy and chaotic and dramatic and doesn’t always fit in neat, orderly boxes. A world where we live in acceptance of what is while also understanding some things can be changed. And sometimes that thing needs to be us.

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