Another World is 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.

This week I was in Boston for my sister’s graduation. The commencement speaker was Richard LaGravenese, an Oscar-nominated writer and director. He was funny and self-deprecating and inspirational. I highly encourage you to watch the whole speech and don’t be intimidated by the time count, it flies by, I promise.

What I really love about his speech is he spoke several truths. “You won't change the world but you will change your world.” Yes. How right is that? Each of us live in our bubbles that sometimes intersect with others, but for the most part we are in our own self-contained universe, which is why the law of attraction and manifestation is so powerful. What we put out in the world comes back to us. So yes, we will change our own worlds, several times in fact.

And here is a man who barely eeked by as an actor who followed his internal guidance. The nudge that kept pushing him to be a writer instead. And success followed him. Fame, critical acclaim, money. He trusted his gut and went after it. I can think of no more inspirational feat than that. A person who has a dream and chases it, not letting any obstacle deter them for long. And what’s so inspirational to me is that he achieved his dream. It may not be what he started off with, but it shows me how true my favorite expression, “Your wildest dreams are ant-sized compared to what lay ahead,” is. He never imagined his life would end up the way it did and in fact he says it’s better. Yes. Here is someone who models that, who reminds me the same can be true for me. Who shows me I too can chase after what I want and I may be surprised by what I get. He reminds me anything is possible and amazing things happen in the world. That not everyone is born to be a dancer or a singer, but that doesn’t mean they have to settle for second best, because perhaps they’re being pushed in a different direction. And that intuitional feeling, that gut, as he calls it, is never wrong. This too is where honesty comes in.

I think it’s important to chase our dreams yes, but also to be honest with ourselves and to look at our motivations. I think about all those contestants on American Idol who are convinced they are the best singers ever and I have to wonder, what is their motivation? Do they want to be on Idol to become famous, or because they love singing and moving people with music? If it’s the former then yeah, perhaps being a singer is not their path in life. Success follows talent it seems and not everyone can be talented in the way they want, no matter how hard they try. A teeny part of me would love to be a model because I enjoy being photographed but the brutal honesty is that I don’t have the body for it and even if I starved myself I’d never be tall enough. Them’s the breaks sometimes, but that doesn’t mean my life will be unfulfilling.

I dream of a world where more people are like Richard LaGravenese. Where people are their authentic, original selves. A world where people seek to express themselves rather than court the marketplace. A world where people have drive and ambition and create for the sake of creating. A world where people take risks even if they’re afraid to fail. A world where people focus on their own paths. A world where people follow their hearts and watch the magic of their lives unfold.

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

I love my mother. She did a fantastic job not only of taking care of my siblings and me, but showing us how to do things for ourselves. It’s because of my mother that I’m able to cook, clean and sew buttons. Even though I’m a grown woman I still sometimes want to be babied. And by that I mean I still want someone else to take care of me. Not in the sense I want a sugardaddy, but I want someone else to make dinner and wash the dishes and take over for a while because right now it seems like everything falls on my shoulders.

Since I’m out of my parents’ house, that means I’m the sole person responsible for my well-being. I have to take care of everything and it can be exhausting, so of course I want to be babied every now and again. Except my view of the world has been flawed. I don’t have to do everything myself. I don’t have to rely completely on myself to take care of me because there is a power greater than myself I haven’t factored into the equation.

It’s a subtle thing, but of late I recognize God takes care of me. I’m not walking through this world completely alone because the universe supports and loves me. There’s an energetic difference because now I’m allowing myself to be taken care of. I’m allowing my higher power to show up for me and shoulder my burdens. One of my burdens is financial. I’m only working part time and I’m freelancing to pay the bills. I’ve been fretting because it feels like I’m completely responsible for all of it. I’ve been telling myself I have to run ragged to make ends meet. I have to find those opportunities, market myself, get out in the world. Everything is on me. I’ve written about allowing things to be what they are to come my way, but this is different. This is me acknowledging it doesn’t have to be my concern. I can let God be my ultimate caretaker.

I’m probably rambling a bit but what I’m getting at is God can be the one who’s in charge. The one who makes decisions and steers my life. I don’t have to constantly decide for myself whether something is a good idea or not. I don’t have to stew in worry and anxiety about the world because instead I can check in with my higher power. I can let my higher power decide what’s best for me, where the money will come from, all of it. I am not alone in the world. Not only because I have friends and a community but because there is an energetic being that watches out for me all the time. That sticks with me through thick and thin. That will never abandon me no matter how angry or whiny or childish I act.

I love my mother and I’m extremely grateful for all that she’s done for me. But now I’m allowing my higher power to take over that role for me because really that’s exactly what my higher power is supposed to do.

On this mother’s day, I dream of a world where we let ourselves be taken care of by a power greater than ourselves. A world where we let our mothers also be mothered. A world where we let someone else shoulder the burden for a while. A world where we feel at peace because we know someone else is taking the reins. A world where we know we’ll be provided for now and always.

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

Sometimes I think other people know better than me. Sometimes I think other people’s intuition is stronger than mine and that somehow they have more answers than I do. That their higher power is better than my higher power. That my own intuition can’t be trusted and that other people know what’s best for me. As I’ve gotten older the circle of people for whom that applies has narrowed, but there are still some whose word I take as the gospel truth. Or who I think ultimately know better than I do. On Thursday I had the painful realization that’s not true. No matter how enlightened I perceive someone else to be, no matter how intuitive or how wise, they do not know more about me than my own higher power.

The details of what happened Thursday are not important except to say I paid attention to my higher power’s voice during a kung fu exercise and then I was pressured not to. Instead of listening to my higher power, I gave into peer pressure. It was very small but I believed someone else knew better, that somehow I was wrong or confusing my higher power with my ego. Let me tell you: The other person doesn’t know better, didn’t know better, and won’t know better. The divinity within me always knows best.

On Friday I had a conversation with someone who asked me, “How do you know what your ego is?” I think it’s worth mentioning here. A ton of people discuss this such as Eckhart Tolle, Marianne Williamson, and numerous spiritual teachers. The simplest way for me to put it is the ego is crazy. The ego is impatient, demanding, angry, loud. Anytime a voice says, “Rebekah you must do this NOW!!!!!!!!!! I want, I want, I want!!!!” it’s the ego. In contrast, my higher power is loving, kind, gentle, quiet. Anytime a voice says, “Rebekah, it’s in your best interest to do this,” or says with gentle understanding, “You’re really tired so you’re not thinking straight,” it’s my higher power. The calm, rational voice is my higher power. The irrational and slightly hysterical voice is my ego. I have the tools to distinguish the two.

I’m reminded of a blogpost I wrote in 2009 about how the truth is within me and spirituality is about finding the God within. The point of this post is to expand that idea and say even the teachers of my path do not know better than I do. That my teachers are here to share information but they aren’t always right. That my teachers are to be questioned and my teachers are to be disobeyed when it’s not in alignment with my highest self. Because only I know what’s best for me. It’s hard for me to admit that, but Thursday’s exercise demonstrates that to me.

I dream of a world where we turn to ourselves for answers. A world where we separate out our minds from our hearts. A world where we listen to the divine guidance we are given above all others. A world where we trust ourselves. A world where we trust our intuition even if it flies in the face of what others say. A world where we turn internally because we know we are our own ultimate authority.

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.

Maybe it’s the perfectionist in me, but whenever something goes wrong in any of my relationships I assume it’s my fault. It’s because I’m weird or said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing. I am always to blame. Except. . .I’m not.

I had an encounter with a friend last week that showed me other people are to blame too. I’m not always the bad guy. Yeah, I “knew” other people had flaws but somehow they didn’t register because the really flawed people I don’t associate with. I somehow assumed everyone around me was near perfect because they didn’t club baby seals. My rose-colored glasses finally fell off when I looked at my friend and really saw him. He can be impulsive and live completely in the now, which means he doesn’t always think things through. A little part of me worries about typing that because, “What will my friend think?” but honestly he probably won’t think much because — it’s ok for me to not be “perfect” and it’s ok for other people to not be perfect as well. We’re human. We all have our character flaws. All of us. Even the really nice lovely people. Even those we cherish the most. So when I’m fighting with someone, no, I’m not solely to blame. No, I’m not the only one who makes mistakes. I’m not the only screw up in the room.

Other people have free will, other people are allowed to make choices and mess up, and yeah, that will affect me. No one else has all the answers or “acts perfectly” or has it all figured out. No one else has a manual for how to go through life. I thought they did, I felt like an alien invader, but now I realize everyone else is just trying to figure it out too. Some people put on a better show than others, but really everyone is just doing their best putting one foot in front of the other.

I guess I’m saying I finally understand relationships involve other people. (Duh Rebekah!) Other people are allowed to air their dirty laundry, to play out their character defects, to blunder through life. I don’t have to hold myself to a different standard, either higher or lower. People are going to be who they are and oftentimes it has nothing to do with me. I didn’t do anything wrong, I didn’t elicit a certain response. People are just. . .people.

I’m not conveying it very well but I feel such relief because I finally know my part in things, and it’s not everything. I finally understand how much is my stuff and how much is other people’s stuff. What a relief to not constantly take ownership of other people’s flaws! What a relief to acknowledge where I went wrong and where other people went wrong! Not with judgment but with acceptance. What a relief to say, “Oh, I see, they’re being impulsive, or acting out their control issues, or miring in entitlement,” or whatever and realize it’s theirs. To be living completely attuned to myself. What a gift.

I dream of a world where we can recognize people as people. A world where we understand everyone is doing their best, everyone has their character kinks they’re working on. A world where we understand what belongs to us and what belongs to other people. A world where we live on our side of the street, knowing it’s more than enough to take care of.

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

“I’m wearing brown boots with a black jacket! People are going to judge me!” “I didn’t meditate as long as my friend! What’s he going to think?” Here’s a little secret: No one is judging me as much as I’m judging myself. People are generally self-centered creatures and more often than not are thinking about themselves. So while I’m contemplating judgment for pairing brown boots with a black jacket, the person I’m passing on the street is probably worrying about how people might judge her for wearing sunglasses while it’s cloudy.

I know it seems trivial but when I can finally let go of self-judgment (or even judging myself for how others will judge me) I get to show up in the world. I get to be me without fear of repercussions. I get to do what I feel is best. I get to know and experience joy because I’m doing what I want without fear of what others might think. It can be paralyzing, the fear of others’ judgment. Not wanting to step out of line because the neighbors will gossip. But really, it’s usually just me judging myself. And when it’s not, well, there’s an excellent Dr. Seuss quote that addresses that: “Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.”

Yes. How true. Those that I love and who love me will not pass judgment on wearing brown boots with a black jacket, or for anything else my mind can think of. And if someone does think I’m a clueless fashion train wreck, I don’t necessarily want them in my life, now do I?

I suppose what I’m saying on a deeper level is the person who judges me the most is me. I’m my worst critic. I’m the one who berates myself, who says means things. And everyone else is doing the same. (At least I think they are. I’ve heard tale anyway.)

Where I am now is trying not to worry about what others think, yes, but also not worry about what I think others will think. It is safe for me to show up in the world. It is safe for me to express myself. It is safe for me to do things and say things and wear things that are in alignment with my heart without fear of judgment. I can give myself that permission, to be all that I can be. To rejoice in life. To accept myself as I am because honestly, no one really cares and the people who care aren’t worth associating with.

I have to admit I’ve been a bit scared to show my true colors, but I see now, I don’t have to be. Because the only one judging me is me.

I dream of a world where we stop judging ourselves and each other. A world where we know it’s safe to be ourselves. A world where we live life to the fullest, expressing the truest part of ourselves. A world where we love ourselves and each other. A world where we let ourselves be. A world where we give ourselves permission to do so.

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

I have this “thing” about age and success. I am riotously envious of those who are young and successful. Success in this sense means they wrote a best-selling book or started a business or head up a major department at work. It may seem strange for me to talk about success when only a few weeks ago I wrote a post about how only love is real. I do believe only love is real, but at the same time I know I am here to birth certain creative projects, and I have a desire to see them succeed. I feel envious of people (even fictional ones!) who are doing well for themselves under the age of 30. Somehow in my mind if you’re successful and you’re young, it’s a double whammy. A double achievement.

There are many issues I could touch on here – how success may be defined in numerous ways, how success doesn’t guarantee untold bliss and happiness – but what I’d like to focus on is the link to age. Why is it such a big deal for me? So what if some kid became a millionaire at age 12? So what if someone started up a billion dollar company and retired at age 32? Does age really matter? Why is youth such a trophy?

You know what? It’s not. Ultimately age is not important, it’s just a marker of when something was accomplished. I can take out my pressing need to do things quickly and while in the bloom of youth because really it’s the idea, the project, the art that’s most important. When I focus on age I lose sight of that. Yes, only love is real, but I am a human and I was put on this Earth to engage. To be a conduit for the divine and transmit certain messages. That’s what’s important. Not when I transmit them. “When” doesn’t ultimately matter as much as showing up for my part. If I accomplish something sooner it doesn’t make it more valuable. Let me say that again. If I accomplish something at the age of 15 or at 50 neither is better than the other.

Admitting “when” something is accomplished is not important is difficult for me to accept because I’ve been focused on the “when” for so long. But honestly, I’ve known in my heart all along the creation is what’s matters most.

A friend of mine said to me years ago young people who join 12 step programs are so lucky because they spend fewer years acting out their addictions. My response to him was even experiencing one day of sobriety is a gift. It doesn’t matter when you become sober, just as long as you’re sober. The same can be applied to dreams I think. It doesn’t matter when you accomplish your dreams, as long as they are accomplished.

I can now release my want to do things immediately and before I’m 30 because I know there is plenty of time. I don’t have to rush. Everything falls into place when it’s supposed to, and the idea success is even greater if I’m young when it happens can drop off because that’s all in my mind. I don’t have to believe that anymore. And I have the same wish for others.

I dream of a world where we all lose our hang up with time. A world where we understand “when” doesn’t matter, as long as our heart and soul’s desire comes to fruition. A world where we understand perhaps benevolent forces are at work that have a broader perspective about “when” it’s best for something to manifest. A world where we live freely without comparison and judgment. A world where allow ourselves to be, to dream, to achieve, knowing whenever our projects manifest is when they’re supposed to.

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

Sometimes I wish I was born as a wealthy princess, married to a handsome prince, and my only responsibility was to read books and go for walks. Sometimes I think if only things were a certain way then life would be so grand. But since that’s not my life, I’ve wanted to do as much good as I can, burn as many individual units of karma as possible, and get the heck out of dodge. Because the whole point of human life is to get to Heaven as quickly as possible! Oh wait, that’s not right.

At a particularly low time in my life, a good friend of mine said, “You can’t have the sweet without the sour.” I brushed off his statement because it seemed like a cliché thing to say. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, the world’s about balance. Blah, blah, blah.” What I didn’t realize at the time is you can’t have the sweet without the sour. I didn’t understand it’s the contrast that allows me to experience the sweet. If I had sugar all the time I wouldn’t even know it was sweet because I would become so acclimated to the taste it would become bland. I didn’t realize in order for me to experience joy, I also have to know sorrow. That there can be no “good” without “bad” because oftentimes states of being are defined by what they’re not. How can I know what bliss is if I haven’t experienced misery?

I think about that joke where two fish are swimming in the ocean. The first fish turns to the other and says, “The water’s really warm today.” The other fish says, “What’s water?” If I lived in a constant state of bliss I wouldn’t know what bliss is, much like those fish. So that is why I became physical. To experience all of it. The peaks, the valleys. The joys, the sorrows. Everything in between. Because only I, in my physical body, get to experience that. Angels, divine beings, they don’t get to experience any of it. They don’t know the thrill of ice skating or holding hands with their beloved. But I do. So this is it. The greatest ride of all. Being human. There is no heaven the way I’ve interpreted it. There is no time when I get to feel any better than I do right now. There is no time when I get to experience constant bliss, because when bliss is constant it ceases to be bliss.

I became physical so I could know all this. So I could feel all of my emotions, not just the good ones. A part of me wants to feel high all the time, doesn’t want to ever feel sad or hurt ever again. I understand now I can’t know the joy of a reunion without first experiencing a separation. I can’t understand the joys of eating unless I’ve been hungry. I entered the world to watch birds swooping in and out of traffic, to gaze at bright yellow taxis and tall redwood trees. I became physical to know the joy of a little girl racing toward me with open arms saying, “Auntie!” That’s it. I came for the experience, not the outcome.

I don’t know that I’m making any sense, but much like Licia Berry wrote in her blog, I’m recognizing my spiritual life is experiential in nature. That enlightenment and bliss are not things that happen at the end of my life after I’ve stood on my head and prayed a million times, but rather states of being accessible for me in the here and now. Because you can’t have the sweet without the sour.

I dream of a world where we allow ourselves to experience everything. A world where we know the thrill of love and the pain of separation. A world where we understand the sacredness, and the treasure, of being human because no other creature gets to experience the rollercoaster we do. A world where we have fun, enjoy life, and understand what it means to be physical.

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