I’m currently traveling and never have I identified more with the Charles Dickens line, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” The lows are low (no clean clothes for 48 hours! Diverted plane! An unexpected six-hour bus ride!) but the highs are also high. I’m meeting my friends’ children for the first time. I’m reuniting with people I haven’t seen in two years, 10 years. And I’m trying to do as Joseph Campbell advises when he says, “We cannot cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live in joy.”
I know there are terrible things happening. I know the world can be so horrible it will break your heart over and over again. I know people are struggling (myself included) but I am choosing to live in joy. And more than that, I’m choosing to relish the little joys when they arrive. Here’s a little story about that.
In early July, I was at a yoga and meditation retreat in upstate New York. It was so sweet to see my spiritual family and connect with people I hadn’t seen in ages. But it was also hard physically – no air-conditioning in the dorms, people walking on creaky wooden floors at all hours of the day and night, and just generally sleeping poorly in a new place. My body was wrecked.
After the retreat, I met my fourth cousin for the first time, who graciously let me stay in his two-bedroom, two-bath apartment near Times Square. Air-conditioning! A comfy bed! No creaky floors! A pool! It was exactly what I needed. The joy of temperature control after sweating all night cannot be overstated. But even still, I was tired, cranky, and feeling off because for the first time in a week, I was completely alone. As I brushed my teeth in my cousin’s bathroom, I looked down and saw a rainbow stripe in the sink.
The rainbow in question. And yes, that’s my reflection in the sink.
Many people know that I have a thing about hearts and the word “love.” I see either or both every single day. I share many of those images on Instagram. What’s less known is I also have a thing about rainbows. Whenever I see a rainbow, I will squeal in delight or, at the very least, smile. Rainbows bring me joy in a way that hearts do not because they’re unexpected and rare. It’s easy to spot a heart every day if you look for one because people wear heart necklaces. They carve them into cement. They decorate their homes with love paraphernalia. Hearts are everywhere. Rainbows are not.
When I see a rainbow, it’s like the universe is saying to me, “Hey! Remember the good stuff, kiddo! Relish the joy and remember it can come out of the blue!” When so much of the world feels like a dumpster fire, it feels important to remember that. It relates to a concept my spiritual teacher touts, which is, “Here in the universe, nothing is stationary, nothing is fixed. Everything moves; that’s why this universe is called jagat. Movement is its dharma; movement is its innate characteristic.”
Movement is the innate characteristic of the universe. Nothing is stagnant or static or stale. The world will always be full of sorrows but it will also be full of joys. Am I relishing them when they come? It’s definitely a practice but I’m doing my best because joy is a lot more, well, enjoyable.
I dream of a world where we understand there are always bad things happening but there are also always good things happening. A world where we understand joy is often about the little things – air-conditioning on a hot summer’s day, going to the pool with friends, seeing a rainbow in an unexpected place. A world where we do our best to relish those little joys because we know they aren’t so little after all.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Many years ago, I had a conversation with one of my closest friends about enlightenment. We compared our approaches – how I live in idealism, fantasy, and move toward the light. He told me his approach is more like crawling down the back of a scaly beast until he comes full circle at its snout. I heard what he said but I didn’t understand it because who wants to go down the scaly back of a beast? Who wants to peer into the seedy underbelly?
It turns out that I do. I’m currently experiencing the astrological transits associated with the mid-life crisis (and if you were born in 1984 or 1985, you are too). If you’re interested, that’s Pluto square Pluto, and essentially it means looking at the shadow and everything that remained hidden. It’s doing what Carl Jung suggested when he said, “One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.”
I’m realizing how true that is. In my post from the other week about meeting the self, I talked about the importance of looking in the mirror, and sometimes, when you look in the mirror, you don’t like what you see. Some people become well-practiced at avoiding the mirror. It’s too scary, it’s too threatening to witness the parts they want to hide but that’s not me. I’m devoted to myself and that means all parts of myself.
As if to underscore this point, I pulled an oracle card called “Diving for Light.” The author Alana Fairchild says, “It can be so much simpler to seek light in the heavenly, in that which is blissful, sweet, loving, and kind. To look for the light in that which is dark is an advanced task that only a rebellious and brave heart will attempt. You may not feel that you have taken such a journey by choice. Yet you have taken this wise challenge from deep within your soul. Your innermost being has evoked this situation in your life with the intention that you grow in power, wisdom, and creative juice. It also wants you to experience a bold and fearless trust in life and become further empowered to live it with zest and courage.”
That’s true. I want to live fully. I want to liberate myself through expansion, and that means every situation, every struggle, every everything is an opportunity to move closer to the Divine Beloved or further away. My spiritual teacher says our path is an all-around fight, both internally and externally. That means facing my fears, protesting injustice, and always asking, “How can I use this situation or experience to grow?” It’s not only the happy, joyful situations. It’s also the ones that have me crying every single day.
I’m diving for the light by mining the darkness. I’m sifting through the muck looking for gold, not because I particularly want to, but because I recognize there’s something of value in doing so. On the other end of this is more power, more wisdom, more creativity, and being one step closer to enlightenment.
I dream of a world where we understand to become enlightened, we must make the darkness conscious. A world where we use everything as an opportunity to move closer to the Divine Beloved. A world where we dive for the light because we understand that something powerful and transformative is waiting for us in the shadows.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
As we’re approaching the July 4th holiday, a time that supposedly celebrates freedom and independence, I’m reminded of this post from five years ago. Enjoy.
What does it mean to be free? Some people would say it’s doing whatever you want, whenever you want. But is that really true? In Rebecca Solnit’s excellent essay on “Masculinity as Radical Selfishness,” she mentions the axiom, “My right to swing my arm ends where your nose begins,” which is about balancing personal freedom with the rights of others. It’s also about watching out for someone else’s rights. However, what we’re seeing is the idea that my right to swing my arm doesn’t end where your nose begins, but instead just doesn’t end. And in fact, your nose is not my problem, and it should get out of the way.
She also says in the U.S., “unlimited armswinging peaks at an intersection between whiteness and maleness, with plenty of white women on board who seem to believe that a white lady’s job is to protect white men’s armswinging (often with a selfless disregard for their own noses).” What we’re seeing is peak entitlement and conflating “freedom” with hypermasculinity as well as white supremacy. Who is it that thinks they should have unlimited armswinging? White men (but not all white men, to be clear).
This is incredibly juvenile and shortsighted because no person is an island (even if they have enough money to buy one). We don’t live in our own self-contained bubbles, able to accomplish everything by ourselves. We want someone else to cut our hair. We want someone else to make our food. Humans are social creatures. We are not meant to live in isolation.
Real freedom requires limits. Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
The hypermasculine freedom some in the U.S. idealize is a myth because what happens when that individual gets sick? They rely on the collective to help them out – they go to the hospital for care, or a doctor, or the drugstore.
My spiritual teacher says, “Just as my life is important to me, others’ lives are equally important to them; and if we do not give proper value to the lives of all creatures, then the development of the entire humanity becomes impossible.”
It becomes impossible because individual life is bound to the collective. Collective welfare lies in individuals, and individual welfare lies in collectivity. There is no instance where my individual welfare doesn’t contribute to collective welfare. And furthermore, real freedom requires constraint. That may seem like an oxymoron but hear me out.
Retired Navy SEAL, author, and podcaster Jocko Willink says, “Freedom is what everyone wants – to be able to act and live with freedom. But the only way to get to a place of freedom is through discipline. If you want financial freedom, you have to have financial discipline. If you want more free time, you have to follow a more disciplined time management system. Discipline equals freedom applies to every aspect of life: If you want more freedom, get more discipline.”
He’s talking specifically about individual freedom, of course, but I think the same message applies to collective freedom. We’re able to drive safely, for the most part, because there are rules associated with driving. We’re able to buy food we enjoy because there are regulations that keep expired food off the shelves. I realize there are problems with the rules and regulations I listed, but I’d much rather have those problems than going into a grocery store and wondering if the food I’m buying will poison me.
Real freedom requires discipline and a care for others. Anything else is just selfishness that will eventually catch up to us.
I dream of a world where we recognize true freedom requires giving up a little bit of freedom. A world where we understand we can’t do what we want whenever we please without consequences for ourselves and others. A world where we understand there’s an inherent relationship between freedom and limitation.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’m editing a fascinating book about judgment. I can’t quote from it because, hi, it’s unpublished and also not my writing, but I can talk about the general ideas and also quote from others.
My client makes the case that when we judge other people, it’s often because we aren’t tending to the vulnerable parts of ourselves. The parts that need to be met with love and care. For instance, if I say, “He’s so lazy,” it’s likely there’s a part of me that’s sad because I long to rest. But instead of holding that grief – that I desire to rest and feel unable to do so – I’m projecting and calling that man lazy. And judgment of any kind, toward others or the self, breaks connection with our own heart, to paraphrase Tara Brach.
Why does that matter? The older I get and the deeper I go into spirituality, the more I understand that enlightenment is not only living in the light. It’s going into the shadows. It’s descending into the metaphorical underworld to rescue the parts of ourselves that we’ve exiled. The ones who are scared. The ones who are ashamed. The ones who feel unlovable. Writer and spiritual teacher Jeff Foster Brown says: “Real spirituality is all about ‘enrealment’ – it includes everything human in the equation. The real now is the one that includes everything we left behind on the path. We must work through our story before the unresolved elements of our story kill us.”
Meeting the Self is one the hardest and most healing things we can do. Photo by Михаил Секацкий on Unsplash
The unresolved elements of our story remain unresolved until we face them. It’s the low hum of anxiety in the background, even though on paper everything looks fine. It’s the vaguely dissatisfying nature of our relationships. It’s the knowledge that we could be doing so much more but we’re not. You could live your whole life like that, and many people do. But regardless, these feelings are symptoms; they are an invitation to meet your Self.
Psychotherapist Matt Licata wrote:
“The invitation is into intimate communion: to move closer, and even closer still, into the feelings, the emotions, and the sensations as they surge. To surround the surging material with curiosity, warmth, and most importantly with kindness, as an inner explorer of the galaxy of your own body, of which there is no temple more sacred.”
So many people try to escape themselves – into the arms of another person, via the bottom of a bottle, through the excitement of a video game – but it doesn’t work long term. Speaking as an addict in recovery, I know from experience. I have the receipts. But my whole life got so much better – richer, fuller, more joyful – when I stopped running and met my Self. You might be saying, “That’s so vague. What does it even mean?”
I can’t condense nearly two decades of personal development into a single blogpost but if you’re interested in meeting your Self, and I recognize you may not be, a good place to start is with a timer.
When I was early in recovery, feeling my feelings was like being flayed alive. It was excruciating. Deeply painful. Scary. Feeling my feelings was the last thing I wanted to do! What if they never ended? What if I was sad/scared/angry forever?!? What helped was setting a timer. For five minutes, I let myself feel whatever I was feeling and after the five minutes (that usually turned into 10), I would stop. The feelings had a beginning and an end. When the timer rang, I could go on with my day. That was the beginning of meeting myself.
As my client emphasizes, healing happens with presence – not trying to fix, change, or solve anything. Just presence. Just being with. And we don’t need to wait for someone else to do that, we can give presence to ourselves. And the more we are present with ourselves, the more we are present with others. The more we meet ourselves, the more we can meet our true selves as divine beings of light. And that’s something I wish for everyone.
I dream of a world where we understand judgment is a protection mechanism. A way of not tending to the ones inside. A world where we see these judgments as invitations to turn inward. A world where we commune with the entirety of who we are because we understand enlightenment is about enrealment. A world where we are brave enough to meet ourselves.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve had an interesting experience over the past month or so. People whom I thought I’d never see or talk to again have been resurfacing. Not one or two people, either – five. Folks that I haven’t seen, talked to, or thought of in one year, two years, three years, five years have been popping up in unexpected ways and places.
So often I get stuck in binary thinking: “This person is in my life forever,” or “They’re gone for good,” but life is reminding me I don’t actually know. I don’t know who will cycle in and out of life. I think I know. I want to know, but there’s evidence staring me in the face of how wrong I am. To be clear, resurfacing doesn’t always mean reconnecting. Sometimes people show up again only for you to say, “Ew. No. Hard pass.” But still. It’s interesting when people reenter your life.
The whole thing is reminding me of humility. I don’t mean humiliation or low self-esteem. The word “humility” originates from the Church Latin word humilis, which literally translates as “on the ground.” Other words that mean “Earth” are also part of the etymology of “humility.” Being humble means keeping your feet on the ground and staying present here on Earth.
Sometimes you think the flower is fully opened but it’s not. Photo by Nova Shrayber on Unsplash.
In my post from two weeks ago about grounding in reality, I talked about discernment and using the mind to vet information. But what I’m also recognizing is that grounding in reality means accepting we just don’t know. We don’t know the future. We don’t know if a project is finished even if we think it is. We don’t know who we’ll be connected to a year from now, two years from now. We don’t really know anything.
As a journalist, as someone who loves investigating the truth in herself and others, this is incredibly humbling. Over and over again, life says to me, “You think you know what’s coming? Baby, you don’t have a freaking clue.” That can feel scary. Or at least it does for me. But this, too, is reality. And instead of spending countless hours trying to predict what will happen next, it’s better for me to be here, now.
Do I sound like a broken record? I kind of am right now because I’m trying to anchor in truth and reality. I’m trying to live the principles Eckhart Tolle talks about in The Power of Now. He says, “Most people treat the present moment as if it were an obstacle that they need to overcome. Since the present moment is life itself, it is an insane way to live.” The present moment is life itself. Life is what’s here, now, here now. Even the hard parts. Even the things I want to skip over.
Life is always a mixed bag – it will never be all good or all bad. This is why every happiness expert talks about gratitude and focusing on the positive. There will always be something negative. Always. That doesn’t go away. But what’s positive about the present moment? And can I stay humble, recognizing I don’t know what’s next? Can I remember it’s better for me to not even try to know? That’s what I’m working on, anyway. And life keeps sending me reminders when I forget.
I dream of a world where we stay humble. A world where we understand we don’t actually know if something is finished or whether a person will resurface in our lives. A world where we stop trying to predict the future and instead live here, now. Because the present isn’t an obstacle we need to overcome. The present is where life happens.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The title of this post comes from a fascinating article I read in my university’s alumni magazine. More than 15% of the global population – about 1 billion people – have been diagnosed with a physical, psychiatric, learning, developmental, sensory, or cognitive disability. And that number is likely to increase due to emerging diseases and natural disasters.
We treat disability like it’s abnormal but the reality is anyone who lives long enough will become disabled either because of an accident or age. For this reason, author and bioethicist Ashley Shew uses the term “temporarily able-bodied.” Yeeees. When I first heard that term, my entire body relaxed because it made so much sense and also reframed my experience as someone with idiopathic hypersomnia. Because I have to nap every day and am easily tired by too much activity, I perpetually feel abnormal. Why can’t I do the things other people can do? And how can I regain health privilege as quickly as possible?
Getting the reminder that people who aren’t currently disabled are experiencing something temporary helps me to feel better. It means I’m not abnormal and instead, other people are going to “catch up” to me, so to speak. I’m learning to live with disability sooner than other people but health privilege is temporary for everyone if they live long enough. To be alive means to have a body that will eventually break down. Instead of feeling envious of other people, I’m working to unapologetically love my body as it is, right now. There’s nothing wrong with me even though an ableist society says otherwise.
An excellent example of accessibility — not everyone can hike a rugged trail but paved trails allow those with mobility issues to see these natural wonders. Photo by Romain Virtuel on Unsplash
If you’re unfamiliar with that term, ableism is a system of discrimination and oppression that favors nondisabled lives and ways of being, often under the guise of empowerment. For instance, prosthetic legs enable amputees to walk “normally.” That’s not to say technology can’t make life easier for disabled people – it does – but society encourages disabled people to see themselves as chronically incomplete or lacking. There’s something wrong with them because they’re not able-bodied. This distracts from the real social ill, that “the world is set up to exclude disabled people,” to quote Shew.
The reality is we’re not all meant to be the same. My spiritual teacher says, “Human society is just like a garland which is made of different types of flowers, woven together by one common thread. The overall beauty of the garland is dependent upon the beauty of each flower. Likewise, each strata of society must be equally strengthened if we are to maintain the unity and solidarity of society.”
So first, diversity is the name of the game, and two, each strata of society must be equally strengthened. That means recognizing there is a place for everyone and furthermore, creating a more inclusive society that plans for the fact people are temporarily able-bodied. Instead of making people feel incomplete or ashamed for losing health privilege (or never having it in the first place), we’d be better off recognizing disability is inevitable. What are we doing to make the world easier, better, more inclusive, and more accommodating? Because after all, the future is disabled.
I dream of a world where we understand health is a privilege that eventually everyone loses. A world where instead of trying to hold on to health privilege, we create a society that accommodates disability. A world where we strengthen all segments of society because we recognize disability is a fact of life. A world where we recognize the diversity of human beings is beautiful, just like a garland.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Many cultures, especially in the West, treat Earth as a set piece, the stage upon which life happens. There’s nature and then there’s humanity. We’re seen as separate and dominant. But as former NASA scientist James Lovelock stated in the 70s with the Gaia Hypothesis, we are not managers of the planet, we are the planet. We are a piece of the complex, self-regulating system. For instance, plants breathe in the carbon dioxide we emit and we breathe the oxygen they expel. They need us and we need them.
When Lovelock’s hypothesis first came out it was met with derision but not so anymore. The earth system scientist Tim Lenton at the University of Exeter said he and a number of scientists “now think in terms of the coupled evolution of life and the planet, recognizing that the evolution of life has shaped the planet, changes in the planetary environment have shaped life, and together they can be viewed as one process.”
Darwin said organisms compete and adapt to environments. Only the strongest survive and all that. But now, the new perspective is organisms continuously reshape their surroundings with intricate feedback loops of transformation. Climate & Capital Media Founder Peter McKillop writes, “This isn’t environmental romanticism. It’s a scientifically grounded understanding of planetary dynamics that demands a complete reimagining of our economic, technological, and social systems if we are to survive.”
We are nature and nature is us. Photo by Jon Flobrant on Unsplash
So no pressure or anything – just the survival of our species. It seems like a tall order but it all starts with a mindset shift. How often do we think of nature as being “out there”? A place we go to? As if we could ever get away from nature! Not only is the very ground we stand on nature, but we are nature too. Our bones are made of minerals that we obtain from the environment. Most of the elements in the human body, like carbon, oxygen, calcium, and iron, were created in stars. We, ourselves, are stardust.
We are not separate at all. The entire cosmos is like a spider web and if you pull on one thread, it vibrates the rest of them. I have a friend who acknowledges this every morning in his prayers. He says, “I am eternally grateful to be an integrated particle in the infinite universe of your wisdom and will, and to live in your abundance and prosperity receiving your guidance, strength, mercy, and protection.” I can’t help but wonder what would the world be like if we all felt this way? That we are an integrated particle that is only one part of a whole. What would the world be like if we remembered that nature isn’t “out there” or somewhere to get to but rather, we, ourselves, are nature?
This is essentially the point of my meditation practice, to remember not only the connection but the unity with all of creation. I am nature, nature is me. I am other humans, other humans are me. I am the Divine Beloved, the Divine Beloved is me. I am not separate from anything and nothing is separate from me. I frequently get amnesia on this point but that’s also why I meditate every day, not only so I remember the concept but act on it. Because when I do, I treat everyone and everything with more care, love, and respect and that’s something we could all use more of.
I dream of a world where we remember we are an integrated particle in this universe. A world where we understand we aren’t separate from anyone or anything and nothing is separate from us either. A world where instead of thinking of nature as being something “out there” we remember we are nature and act accordingly.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
It’s the time of year when people are making resolutions, plans, and goals for themselves. They’re picturing who they want to be and what they want to do this year. Someone asked me if I had any resolutions and the answer is no because my biggest lesson of 2024 was, “Stay in the moment because you don’t have a clue how things will turn out.”
Over and over again life surprised me with curveballs both good and bad. Longtime friends drifted out of my life. New ones arrived on my doorstep. High-paying clients stopped providing me with work. New ones took their place. I couldn’t have predicted any of it. So instead of making lists of what I want to accomplish, I’m embracing something poet Mary Oliver said: “Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable.” As someone prone to worry, the “unimaginable” is often synonymous with “terrible.” Things like, “An earthquake is going to swallow me up!” or, “My dear friend is going to get hit by a bus!”
What’s around the bend? We have no idea. Photo by Dirk Spijkers on Unsplash
I’m pretty sure that’s not what Mary Oliver meant when she said keep room for the unimaginable. I suspect she meant, “Allow room for wonder, possibility, and joy.” When I read her quote, I feel warmth in my heart and remember that good things can happen out of the blue like meeting new friends, getting accepted into a film festival, or finding out you’re pregnant. The unimaginable can be incredibly sweet even if it wasn’t planned.
What I’ve learned in an even deeper way over the past year is I’m not meant to know everything. Life isn’t meant to follow a script, or at least not one we have access to. My spiritual teacher says, “Human beings should always remember that living beings are only actors in the vast universal drama composed by [Cosmic Consciousness]. . . . One should remember: ‘We are only playing specific roles in a great drama. I will act properly according to the role I have been given in this drama.’ This is a person’s duty. It is meaningless for a person to think about anything more than this – about what is beyond oneʼs power.”
There are many, many things beyond my power but what I can control is how I’m showing up in the world. Am I overly focused on my plan, my story, and how I think things should go? Or am I softening into the great unknown and remembering to save room in my heart for the unimaginable? This year I’d like to do the latter. So maybe I have a New Year’s resolution after all.
I dream of a world where we remember life can be surprising and delightful. A world where we understand we are all actors in a drama we didn’t write and don’t have the script for. A world where in addition to our plans, we save room in our hearts for the joyfully unimaginable.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
If you’re reading this on December 1, today is my 40th birthday. I’ve had numerous feelings about this birthday. I’ve cried many tears about it because I’m not at all where I thought I’d be at this age. I don’t have anything society told me I “should” have at 40 as a cis-het woman: I’m single, childless, and don’t own a home.
When I mentioned this to my sister, she said, “Yeah but those are normie milestones,” which put things into perspective because when have I ever been normal? (The answer: never.) I may not have the things society told me I “should” have, but there are other milestones that I’m proud of. I’ve been in recovery from an eating disorder for 15 years. It’s been so long that in the novel I’m writing about a bulimic, I completely forgot the main character would say mean things about her body on a daily basis. I’m so removed from that version of myself it literally didn’t occur to me that my character’s inner dialogue would be fatphobic and berating.
Speaking of writing, I’ve written three books – a memoir, a romantic comedy, and the current heroine’s journey novel about belonging and recovery from an eating disorder. When I wrote the romantic comedy, I said over and over again, “I don’t think I can write 50,000 words” because I never had. And I used to joke around that I couldn’t write fiction to save my life. Here I am with two novels under my belt.
Another milestone: My business, rebekahmoan.com, isn’t a part of the statistic about most businesses failing within the first five years. It’s been five years and it’s still going strong. It doesn’t look the way it did when I started but that to me shows I’m adaptable. I can change. Related, it’s harder to measure but I have done so much healing work. I’ve learned to soothe my inner child, be my own secure loving parent, feel my feelings, set boundaries, and communicate my needs. Years ago, I was an anxious, people-pleasing, scaredy cat terrified of standing up for herself. Through some incredibly difficult circumstances, that all changed.
Me with my niece, Mira. I’m grateful for her and all the people in my life.
I’ve worked hard for this version of myself and I’m proud of that. Of me. I’ve been in the trenches of my body, mind, and soul learning how to be the best version of myself and I can honestly say I’m healthier than I was at 30 in every possible way. (In large part that’s because my sleep disorder finally got sorted in 2018.) That’s amazing and worth celebrating.
This post is about me but I’m sharing it with you because I bet you also have milestones that society wouldn’t necessarily notice or celebrate like keeping a plant alive for three years, meditating every day for a month, or finally having friends when for so long you were alone.
Celebrating these unconventional milestones reminds me we are all unique incarnations of the Divine Beloved. The central tenet of my spiritual practice is the universe is coming to know itself through me and you. We are the human expression of divinity. We are not human beings having a spiritual experience, but spiritual beings having a human experience, to quote Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.
Other people who speak to this idea eloquently are Brian Swimme and Mary Evelyn Pope who write in their book Journey of the Universe, “[J]ust as the Milky Way is the universe in the form of a galaxy, and an orchid is the universe in the form of a flower, we are the universe in the form of a human. And every time we are drawn to look up into the night sky and reflect on the awesome beauty of the universe, we are actually the universe reflecting on itself. And this changes everything.”
We are the universe reflecting on itself and just as the Cosmos is vast, so are the experiences of human life. We’re not all meant to follow a neat and orderly direction or accomplish all the same things. We’re meant to be wholly ourselves and that means making new milestones.
I dream of a world where we’re proud of ourselves for the things we’ve accomplished even if no one else is. A world where we understand we’re all unique expressions of the Divine Beloved and that means we all express ourselves in different ways. A world where instead of comparing ourselves to other people, we make our own milestones.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
My social media feed is serving up some pretty horrific things lately. There seem to be endless ways that people are cruel to one another and I know many people are worried that the recent U.S. elections will embolden more of that kind of behavior. But people aren’t only cruel, they’re also kind.
What follows are two examples that remind me people do still care about one another. I’m organizing a retreat for my spiritual community and the retreat site doesn’t have strong wifi throughout, which is a problem because our retreat will be a hybrid one. We need to borrow a wifi booster/extender and instead of buying a new one to use for literally five days, I emailed my tech friends. Wouldn’t you know it – one of them has an extender I can borrow.
You might be saying to yourself, “So? That’s such a small thing. And you asked a friend for help. That’s what friends do.” True. But also this weekend a Substack I subscribe to opened up the comments for people to “take one/leave one,” meaning ask for something they need like a beta reader and offer something like critiquing a query letter. There, too, people are supporting one another, not friends – strangers.
We are still kind to one another. Photo by Dominik Lange on Unsplash
These small things give me hope because this is always how the world works. We lean on one another for support and care. Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés wrote:
“Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach. Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor suffering world, will help immensely. It is not given to us to know which acts or by whom, will cause the critical mass to tip toward an enduring good.
“What is needed for dramatic change is an accumulation of acts, adding, adding to, adding more, continuing. We know that it does not take everyone on Earth to bring justice and peace, but only a small, determined group who will not give up during the first, second, or hundredth gale.”
Her sentiment echoes the famous Margaret Mead quote: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.” And don’t doubt that you are that citizen. The small things we do every day – lending wifi routers, offering to babysit someone’s children, bringing someone soup – these are the things that remind our brains and bodies that we aren’t alone. That people are still good and kind and helpful. That matters.
In times when it seems like people are hellbent on tearing one another down mentally, emotionally, and physically, these small acts of kindness are huge. They let us know despite the barrage of negativity, we still have each other. And that makes all the difference.
I dream of a world where we continue to show up for one another. A world where we give and receive what we can. A world where we focus on our circles of influence and help those around us. A world where we don’t let negativity drag us down because we remember that we still have each other.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.