When I’m going through a tough time, or the world around me is challenging like it is now, I don’t derive comfort from hearing, “This, too, shall pass.” I know some people do and I’m glad, but for me, when I hear, “This, too, shall pass” my response is, “When? Can you give me a timeframe? An estimate even?” But no one really knows, except for some stellar psychics, but I’ve never met any of those. If you have, can you give them my number? I have some questions.
Instead, what comes to mind right now is a quote that is misattributed to Winston Churchill: “If you’re going through hell, keep going.” Because honestly, what other choice is there? When life is grim, when smoke is so thick you can’t see across the street, when the sun is blocked from view and you think you’re on another planet the sky is so orange, what do you do? You keep putting one foot in front of the other over and over again until things change. And the only way I know how to do that is to borrow from another cliché prevalent in 12-step communities: one day at a time.
Not a fan of the smoke, but this is also an expression of Spirit. Photo by chuttersnap on Unsplash
I read an article in the Atlantic recently by Molly Jong-Fast that sums up this principle beautifully. She wrote:
Look, I’m as obsessed with “getting back to normal” as everyone else is, but I try not to worry about when that will be possible. I’ll lose it if I think in terms of hanging on until there’s a vaccine. Some people may find it helpful to tell themselves, It’s not forever. It’s just a few months. In my experience, though, when there’s no firm deadline for the end of an ordeal—and no one really knows when the pandemic will end—it’s better to focus on getting through the day. Life isn’t lived two weeks from now, or two months from now. Life exists in the moment and nowhere else.
Life exists in the moment and nowhere else. That means I can’t think about when it will rain, when I can open my windows again, when I can step outside without an n99 mask designed to filter out smoke. Instead I can focus on the moment, like the carrot I’m munching on while I type this, or my flowers swaying in the breeze.
I can also get quiet and touch the inner calm, the inner strength that lies within me and within everyone. The point of my spiritual practice is not to run away from the world, to search for a better, happier place, but instead to recognize the divinity present here, now. My spiritual practice affirms over and over again that I am an expression of an infinite, loving consciousness. That this body, this mind, this world is an expression of Spirit both beautiful and terrible.
My spiritual teacher says “God” is an acronym that stands for Generator, Operator, and Destroyer. That means God is not only the beauty in the world but also the ugly. And the reality is the cycle of life is a never-ending rhythm of creation, operation, and destruction. I don’t like it, I don’t wish for it, I still act responsibly with regards to my life and the lives of others, but can I have some perspective? Can I remember that God is here, too, in this hell? That’s the work anyway.
I dream of a world where we keep going in the most hellacious of circumstances. A world where we continue to take each day as it comes doing the next right action and then the next. A world where we remember God is not only the wonderful, but the terrible. A world where we realize that in the horrible, Spirit is there, too.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Lately I’ve been thinking about fairness, or rather its opposite. How it’s not fair that people we love die. Or that fascist leaders are calling the shots. Or that the world literally and figuratively burns so a few companies can increase their profits. It’s not fair.
If you’re anything like me, in response to, “It’s not fair,” someone invariably says, “Life isn’t fair,” as if that makes the situation better. The inherent message behind “life isn’t fair” is “deal with it.” But what if I don’t want to deal with it? What if I don’t want to toughen up and accept the unfairness of it all? What if I’d rather curl into a ball and whimper like a wounded animal? Can I do that instead?
This year has been absolutely gut-wrenching for numerous reasons. NUMEROUS. I’m over this year. I want something new, and yet wanting isn’t enough. As they say, faith without works is dead. I’ve also heard that pain is the price of admission into a new life. Ouch. Say it ain’t so, but it is.
When I think about creating something new – art, a business, a life even – there’s often an element of pain, or at least hardship. Rarely is the creation process smooth sailing from start to finish. There are usually obstacles to overcome, hurdles to clear. Maybe this period we’re in, maybe this year, is the admission price we’re paying for a new way of life.
It seems to me humanity is being forced to change on numerous fronts. It’s become clear we cannot maintain the status quo because doing so equals death and destruction. Change isn’t easy, and frankly sometimes it sucks, but I have to believe everything we’re enduring is leading to something better. It’s the only way I can keep going, to continue putting one foot in front of the other. I’m also choosing to believe my spiritual teacher who said, “[A] bright future awaits you. Your future is glorious, your future is luminous, your future is effulgent.”
He describes himself as an incorrigible optimist and also said, “Human civilization now faces the final moment of a critical juncture. The dawn of a glorious new era is on the one side, and the worn-out skeleton of the past on the other. Humanity has to adopt either one or the other. You are the spiritual soldiers; you are the worshippers of life divine. Hence, I call upon you to adorn this crimson dawn deluged with glorious light. Victory is surely yours.”
We’re not on the other side of the fight yet. The world remains unfair, but slowly, in certain places, we’re moving in that direction. For instance, in Portland companies must pay a 10% tax surcharge if their CEO earns 100 to 250 times more than the median-paid worker. That number jumps to 25% if the CEO makes 250 times more than the median-paid worker. The law only applies to Portland, but other places like San Francisco are considering similar laws. Laws like these are a start and show me if we keep striving for a fairer society eventually it will happen.
I dream of a world that’s fair and just. A world that considers what’s in the best interest for the planet as a whole. A world where we realize the impact of our actions and adjust accordingly. A world where we understand sometimes pain is the price of admission into a new life.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This post is from June 2010 but it’s still relevant for me.
Future tripping: obsessing and worrying about the future. Playing the “what if” game. You would think this is my favorite game given how frequently I play it. I construct an entire sequence of events before they even occur. I’ve been doing that this week because I’m planning a 200-person retreat taking place at the end of this month. I’m thinking about, “Who will be the lunch in charge? Who will take care of the kids? What happens if so and so turns up? What happens if so and so doesn’t turn up?” There are sooo many things I’m contemplating and so many outcomes it’s making my head spin.
I also think about how futile the whole thing is. Months ago my friend L’s sister was in town and they invited me to go out to dinner with them. Because of the timing and the location of the restaurant it didn’t make sense for me to go home first. So I started planning and planning and planning. Ruminating on where I would go after work. What I would do with myself. If I would try to read a book or whether I would practice qigong. If I would wander around Chinatown. Where would I meditate. What would happen if I meditated at a temple and then walked around afterward. So many things! So many possibilities! And you know what happened? The night we planned to go out to eat L’s sister got sick and they canceled. They canceled! I spent all that time thinking about what I would do and then none of it took place! All of my worrying was completely fruitless.
I’d much rather go on this sort of trip. Photo by Mantas Hesthaven on Unsplash
It was a nice reminder for me to live in the moment and stay present. It was a nice reminder I’d rather deal with things as they come instead of counting my chickens before they hatch. Because the truth of the matter is I have no idea what’s up ahead. I have no idea what tomorrow brings or even what the next 10 minutes brings. And since I’ve redefined my concept of a higher power, I know that no matter what’s ahead it’s for my good. So why worry? Why plan my whole life in advance?
Some things, like this retreat, require planning. Otherwise we might be sitting around twiddling our thumbs, but honestly, I don’t have to plan everything. I don’t have to think about, “Well what if this happens? Or that happens?” If it happens it does and I’ll deal with it then. Be prepared, yes, but not obsessive. I think that’s the difference.
In the case of going out to dinner with L and her sister, bring a book but also see how I feel at the time. Prepare but allow for all possibilities. I want to allow myself to still deal with situations as they come up and not hold onto what I think will happen like a dog chewing a bone. There’s no need to constantly replay situations in my head like a CD stuck on repeat.
I dream of a world where we allow ourselves to stay present. A world where we take things as they come one day at a time. A world where we release our fear of the future and instead live in the moment. A world where we know what’s ahead is for our own self-realization and growth and so we sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The other day I fretted about my job situation, worried I won’t find another one, or I won’t find another one that I like, that suits me, etc. I applied some spiritual principles — mainly recognizing I’m not in control of this, but I have a higher power — and came to the conclusion my higher power is bigger than all of this.
When I think about myself and my situation it’s from a small and limited perspective. You could call it ego or fear, but regardless, it keeps me locked into limitation. It keeps me from believing in miracles and possibilities. That self is like Chicken Little, declaring the sky is falling because an acorn fell on her head. Did you know there are multiple versions of the Chicken Little story? In one version, Chicken Little and all her friends are lured to a fox’s den and never seen again. In another, they tell a king and the king reassures them the sky is not falling, plucking an acorn from Chicken Little’s head.
I’d like to frequent the metaphorical palace. Photo by Victoriano Izquierdo on Unsplash
This story appeals to me right now because I see my situation as a fork in the road with different outcomes. I could be like Chicken Little and let my fear lead me to a metaphorical fox’s den where I’ll be devoured, or I could be like Chicken Little and let my fear lead me to a metaphorical palace where I’ll be reassured. My higher power is the royalty in this situation — bigger, more powerful, and thoroughly capable.
The other day I watched a movie about Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn. It reminded me back in the day royalty could accomplish the seemingly impossible. He wanted to marry Anne Boleyn so badly he created his own freaking church so he could divorce Catherine of Aragon. That may not seem like a big deal in this modern age where we can create a church in 10 minutes by purchasing a domain name on the internet, but back then? Unthinkable. Practically impossible. And he did it anyway. My higher power is not Henry VIII, but nonetheless, has royal qualities, which means my higher power can totally handle this job situation.
My higher power is bigger than me and thus capable of miracles. I’ve already been the recipient of miracles over and over again. In fact, I’m writing this blogpost from a miracle: my apartment. By all accounts this situation shouldn’t exist: I live alone in a quiet place that I can afford with laundry onsite and in a good location close to public transportation. In the Bay Area that’s like the Holy Grail. Can it be possible then my job will be similar? Sometimes I believe that and sometimes I don’t, but the more I remember my higher power is bigger than me, the more reassured I feel.
I dream of a world where we remember the divine is greater, more powerful, and more capable than we are. A world where we realize those qualities mean miracles can manifest in a multitude of ways. A world where we’re reassured by something bigger than us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
One of the things I’m grappling with right now, as per usual, is acceptance. It’s easier for me to zoom ahead to the near-distant future when things are different. When I have a job again, when my body feels better. It’s much harder me to stay in the moment and accept my current reality. The present moment sucks sometimes. Who wants to accept something crappy? I sure don’t. However, I’m reminded, as I often am, of a passage from the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous on this topic:
“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.”
Sometimes I believe that passage and sometimes I don’t. In a conversation with a friend she said sometimes she thinks life is drunk because things don’t make sense or they’re wacky. I agree. Life is weird. I’m not sure in this moment about the “no mistakes” thing. However, what I know to be true, is as much as I want things to change, they won’t unless I start where I am. For years I wanted to touch my toes, but I couldn’t. Every day I stretched my hamstrings a little farther, a little farther, and now I can touch my toes. But I had to accept my limitations in the moment of how far I could reach.
What if we accepting everything like a guest? Photo by Henry & Co. on Unsplash
There’s something interesting for me in holding the paradox of where I am and where I want to be. Of accepting that I don’t like where I am and making an effort to be somewhere else. How do you hold those two places?
I looked up the definition of “accept” and one definition is “to receive.” I’m resonating with that word right now because a dear friend said to me the other day that I’m meeting myself. When I accept myself or my life circumstances, I’m receiving them, I’m meeting them, I’m greeting them. They become like a friend coming in out of a storm that I’m welcoming inside. There is no judgment, no sense of good or bad. Instead, there is neutrality and that’s exactly what I’m striving for right now. To let myself be what I am — no more and no less.
I can apply that mentality to circumstances as well. Do I like them? No. Can I receive them? Yes. To take the guest analogy further, guests are not residents — eventually they leave. Some guests stay longer than others, sure, but no one sticks around forever. And in the interim, what sort of host am I? I’d like to be the gracious and hospitable kind.
I dream of a world where we all practice acceptance. A world where we receive with hospitality all the “guests” that cross our threshold whether we invited them or not because sometimes we’re stuck with one another. A world where we realize nothing changes until we accept it first.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I am struggling to have hope for the future. To keep the faith things will work out in my favor both personally and in society. It’s very easy to feel that way right now I think. When all signs and evidence are pointing toward one direction, how could I possibly believe another? I know that’s why it’s called faith, but faith has always been a struggle for me.
There’s a saying I like: “More will be revealed.” It’s popular within the recovery community because more will be revealed. We don’t know what the future holds and more will be shown to us. I appreciate that sentiment, and know it to be true, but I also need a little more because, again, issues with faith over here.
Slowly and gradually some things are built.
My spiritual teacher says, “[W]ell-directed effort is the first and the last step toward the mundane success, psychic achievement, psycho-spiritual attainment, and spiritual fulfillment of human beings; indeed, aversion to this [well-directed effort] is the greatest impediment to success, great or small, in human life. That is why Shiva said in clear language, ‘Without well-directed effort, success in any field of activity is impossible.’”
Reading that I feel a little better because I can’t control the future, I can’t bend the world according to my whim, but I can keep doing my part. And my part is to keep showing up, to keep doing the footwork, to continue the well-directed effort, and success will be achieved. I think of it in terms of building blocks. I want everything to be finished and complete already, maybe just slap on a coat of paint, but that’s not how a new house is built. A house is built starting with the foundation with each piece carefully placed, otherwise the structure isn’t sturdy.
Maybe instead of wishing the house was already finished and lamenting that I can’t live in it yet, it would be better for me to see I am building something. Slowly but surely I’m building something new, and gradually, with time and continued effort, the house will be complete. The important thing is to keep going, to not give up, even though right now the house looks like a maze instead of a home.
I dream of a world where we keep making strides toward our dreams even when we can’t see the fruits of our labors yet. A world where we realize it’s our efforts that make change possible. A world where we understand the future is made up of building blocks and it’s up to us to place each piece.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.