One of my favorite quotes is by Marianne Williamson who says, “Romantic relationships are like getting a PhD in spirituality.” Preach sister. However, for me, every relationship is like getting a PhD in spirituality. There is not one relationship that doesn’t teach me something, even if it’s a relationship with an animal. Why is that though?
I’m pretty sure it’s due to my upbringing in a tantric practice. The psycho-spiritual tantra I practice uses everything as a vehicle for liberation. It also uses symbols to approach something that is ultimately beyond symbolization. This manifests itself primarily through relationship.
People are our teachers of course.
To back up a bit and to give some context, the tantric worldview is one in which a universally abounding macrocosmic Consciousness comes to know Itself through each of Its microcosmic reflecting forms – not only in humans or animals, but in plants, planets, and stars. The Consciousness in all things may lie seemingly dormant in something like a rock, but in humans, the Consciousness becomes self-aware and allows us to actively co-create in this great “knowing,” so to speak. What that means is we as humans come to know and understand ourselves symbolically through the form of others.
Boiling that concept down, people, but not just people, are teachers. I’m sure you’ve already found this to be true. I bring this up and find this concept to be so important, that I learn about myself through what’s outside of me, because it gives everything a different spin. It means other people, places, and things are not conquests, are not objects that exist outside of me, are not around solely for my pleasure and enjoyment, but rather are me. This worldview explains why it makes sense to say, “We’re all one,” because I learn about me through you, and you learn about you through me. There is no “out there.”
In other words, the whole world is a reflection of me in different forms, like a potter using clay. There are bowls and vases, but they’re both made out of clay.
I’m not sure I can convey why this concept is so profound for me, but there’s something about recognizing you are an expression of me, that we are not separate from each other, that’s mind boggling. It means when I see a homeless person, I don’t view them as “other,” I view them as me. Can you imagine what the world would be like if we all felt that way? If we saw refugees as us? If we viewed nature as a different expression of ourselves? Would we be so cavalier to inflict harm? To cut down all the trees, to drain lakes, to build high fences, to abuse our brethren? Somehow I think not. I know this to be true because I’ve seen a new way of being and I have that dream for all of us.
I dream of a world where we view each other as ourselves. A world where we understand we come to know ourselves through a myriad of forms. A world where we treat everything around us with reverence and love. A world where we view that which is outside of us not as things for the taking, but as beings to behold.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I want to make an impact in the world. I want to use my gifts in the service of others. In my mind, if I’m not famous, if I don’t have 10 million Youtube followers, then I’m not making a difference. I’m conflating fame with significance. How could I not? When a simple tweet from a celebrity can launch someone’s career or shine the spotlight on an important issue, of course I’m under the impression fame and significance are linked.
I realize a person doesn’t have to be famous in order to make a difference – there are many teachers, activists, doctors, etc. who do great work in the world and no one knows their name, but the thing is, I’m not a teacher, activist, or doctor. I’m a writer. And in my world, if people aren’t reading what I’m writing, then I might as well launch my posts into a black hole for all the good they’re doing.
The epicenter of fame.
I talked about this with my dear writer friend Amal, who doesn’t have this issue. He reminded me about Herman Melville, who was never a financially successful writer, by the way, even though we have all heard of his book Moby Dick. Did you know Moby Dick was a commercial failure and published to mixed reviews? And also that it wasn’t until the late 1910s, early 1920s, which is almost 20 years after his death, that people started to talk about him? Moby Dick was written more than 150 years ago and we’re still studying it in school! Talk about significant.
I’m not saying I’m Herman Melville because I’m not, but what I’m coming to understand more deeply is the notion of artists as pioneers, something my spiritual teacher propounds. What does that mean, to be a pioneer? It means often a person won’t be appreciated in their time, that they’re on the forefront of society, staking out new territory to pave the way for future generations. What this means is just because a person isn’t recognized, isn’t popular or famous, doesn’t mean they’re not doing good work.
That sounds obvious I know, but right now our society places so much emphasis on social capital. “How many Twitter followers do you have? Who regramed you on Instagram? Did anyone share your Facebook post?” Right now it seems easy to become famous from your living room and when 1.4 million people like a Facebook post, they turn into an important person, at least in my mind. But will any of them be remembered in 150 years? Will I?
The ultimate point I’m making in a roundabout way is it’s not my job to worry about fame. Fame doesn’t necessarily mean a person is making a difference, it just means people are paying attention to them. It’s my job as an artist and writer to keep being a pioneer, to keep transmitting messages and inspiration that I receive, and to surrender the fruits of my labor. It’s not my job to attract Facebook followers or to cultivate a name for myself. It’s my job to use my gifts regardless of how much attention I receive. And not just my job, everyone’s job. We are all special and unique human beings who may never get the recognition we crave, but that doesn’t mean what we’re doing isn’t worthwhile or that it’s insignificant.
I dream of a world where we understand fame doesn’t necessarily translate into significance. A world where we realize we have no idea what the future holds or what the fruits of our actions will be. A world where we keep doing the work required of us, letting go of the outcomes.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I spent the weekend at Redwood State and National Parks with a dear friend who is moving in 10 days so this subject matter is on my mind. Here’s a repost from August about another friend who was moving at that time.
I’m having a tough time with the impermanence of things. The good things in my life I want to lock in little glass jars and preserve them for all eternity. What’s funny is I have a similar reaction to the bad things. Not that I want to preserve them for all eternity, but rather it feels like they’ll be with me for all eternity. There is not a sense that this too shall pass.
I’m experiencing both of those sensations at the moment – wanting to preserve stuff and feeling like other stuff is interminable. A dear friend of mine is moving across the country in about 10 days and I’m really sad about it. I want him to stay here, I want things to keep going like they have been, and at the same time my sadness feels like a constant companion.
Buddhists would say my pain comes from attachment. I agree, I am very attached, but I don’t know how not to be. The word people use most often to describe me is “intense.” I love deeply and commit fully. There is no halfway for me. I’m one of those extreme personalities, although I’m working on learning moderation and the middle ground. How am I supposed to learn non-attachment? Well, I’m not.
I’m constantly trying to catch bubbles but when I hold on too tight, they pop. A good metaphor I think,
My spiritual teacher says, “[N]on-attachment does not mean to leave all pleasures and remain in a state of indifference to the world. It does not mean to leave everything and go to the seclusion of a mountain cave. Those who are truly non-attached do not deny the world (or worldly life); they embrace it, for they feel the touch of the eternal hidden within all the changing forms of their lives. They are with everything.”
That to me means non-attachment is seeing things in their true form: as an expression of the divine, which is eternal. Non-attachment means enjoying things while they’re around and remembering they are not the source of my enjoyment. I may love a person but love doesn’t die when they leave. Non-attachment means I love God in the form of this person, but ultimately I love God. Again, it comes back to ascribing God-hood to everything.
I’m not saying I’m no longer sad about my friend moving, because I am, but I do feel a little better because I’m reminded of what’s constant, of what’s eternal. I’m also reminded of my source for everything. My higher power will always bring me who and what I need. In fact, a few weeks ago I rode the bus home from a meeting when normally I hitch a ride, and I ran into someone I knew, who I just met a few days before. It felt like a message from my higher power saying, “Your friend may be leaving, but that doesn’t mean you won’t make new friends and that your community will disintegrate. I am your source for everything; remember this all comes from me.”
I dream of a world where we remember for better or for worse, everything is impermanent. A world where we take comfort in knowing what’s eternal. A world where we enjoy what’s in front of us but also practice non-attachment because we catch a glimpse of the true form underneath.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The other week, I ended early with my writing coaching client (which never happens) and conducted my usual grocery shopping. As I walked out of the grocery store, I ran into someone I literally haven’t seen or talked to in close to five years. It turns out, a few days prior he mentioned me to his girlfriend and voila, we ran into each other.
Even better, during the course of our conversation I said some things it seemed he needed to hear so in many ways I felt like a messenger. I walked away from our encounter on a high, marveling at the magic and the mystery of the universe.
There are no coincidences.
Some people would say that interaction was a coincidence, a happy accident. I don’t view it that way at all. My spiritual teacher says everything is incidental. “For each and every incident there is some cause,” he says. We may or may not know the cause, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one.
He gives the example of an earthquake saying perhaps a huge stone took 10 million years to move from one place to another, but when it fell, the action took only a few seconds and caused the earth to shake. The cause took 10 million years to come to fruition but there was a cause for the earthquake, it didn’t just “happen.”
When I look at the synchronistic turn of events from the other week, I am reminded there is a divine intelligence in place. There is some force at work that configured things just so, allowing me to meet this friend. If I hadn’t left my coaching session early, if my friend walked into the grocery store five minutes later, etc. our meeting wouldn’t have occurred. I am truly in awe of all the moving parts that needed to align in order for us to run into each other.
This story comforts me because at the moment there are a few areas of my life where I feel stuck and hopeless. Where I don’t see how they can or will change. I am convinced they will stay in their current state for the rest of my days. But then I think about this “chance” encounter with my friend and am reminded things can and do change unexpectedly. And not only that, there is also a guiding presence in my life, overseeing everything.
If I can run into a friend out of the blue, is there also a chance these areas of life can also change? That things won’t stay the same? That something else unexpected will show up in my life to shake things up? Like the stone that took 10 million years to fall, maybe there are events slowly, slowly unfolding and when they drop will shake the ground beneath my feet. I find that both terrifying and exciting. I cling to the notion though the universe is working for my benefit, that it ultimately wants to see me succeed.
I dream of a world where we realize everything is incidental. A world where we realize we may not know the initial cause but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one. A world were we remember there is a guiding force in our life that arranges circumstances and events for our benefit.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve had a nightmare literally every night for more than a week so I’m in no condition to do anything other than rest. As such, here is a post from almost exactly three years ago.
I think I’ve written an iteration of this blogpost a thousand times, but I have to write what’s true for me and this week it’s been all about how the universe knows what I need even before I do sometimes.
I posted this on facebook a few days ago so many of you have already read it, but when I was in Washington, D.C. a few months ago, somebody gave me a magnet. My reaction was, “Great. Like I need any more stuff.” However, I kept it because I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away.
We are always taken care of.
On Tuesday, I moved into my sublet in Berkeley. It’s a really cute apartment, but the guy I’m renting from is minimalistic. There’s no cheese grater, cookie sheet, hell, he didn’t even leave me any pens. As I unpacked, I came across my magnet and I stuck it up on the bare refrigerator. As soon as the magnet touched the surface, a wave of feeling swept over me. I choked up because I realized the magnet was given to me months in advance for this very moment when I would need it. To know the universe loves and supports me, in ways I can’t even fathom yet, really touched me. To see that I’m taken care of in even such a small way turned on the water works.
I love this story because I can extrapolate this small event for the bigger stuff. As I said, I’m subletting, so that means I still have to find a permanent place to live. (And permanent in this case means at least a year.) I have some anxiety about it because what I want seems nigh impossible: affordable, spacious, and in a good location? Most people would say I’d be lucky to have two of those things. To see how the universe takes care of me in a very real way gives me hope that my beautiful apartment will also manifest. And it gives me hope I’ll always be taken care of in ways I can’t even predict yet.
I dream of a world where we know we’re always taken care of. A world where we know all of our needs will always be met even if the setup has to happen in advance. A world where we rest easy, feeling joyous and free because we know the universe will always provide for us if we ask.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Right now I’m contemplating liberation and obstacles and the nature of the universe in part because it’s Passover. But even people who are not Jewish will relate to this post because we all experience hardships and wish for escape.
Passover continues to be a relevant holiday for me because it’s not just about celebrating the Jews’ liberation from the land of Egypt, it’s also about personal liberation. The Hebrew word for Egypt, “Mitzrayim,” also means narrow spaces. That means the escape from Egypt was also an escape from a narrow space, a constricting spot, something I, too, have escaped from.
I love this picture as a symbol of things being all good.
When I think of narrow spaces, constricting spots, I think of obstacles. I associate obstacles with suffering, with pain, and with punishment. I don’t know where this came from, maybe growing up in the U.S. where there’s a lot of talk of hellfire and brimstone, but whenever I experience an obstacle, I think it’s because there’s a vengeful God out to get me who wants me to suffer, who wants to punish me. Or the terrible things that happen to me are as a result of previous actions, possibly from a past life, but also serve as a punishment. I see a watered-down version of this reflected in the New Age community too where the “bad” things that happen to people are a punishment of sorts for their “bad” thoughts.
The bottom line is lots of punishment. Lots of black and white thinking. Lots of cause and effect, but in a judgmental way. However, I came across a few discourses and attended a lecture with a friend this week that reminded me obstacles are not punishments. They don’t come about because God wants to punish us for our misdeeds. They come about for other reasons, which I may discuss at another time, but the main point for this post is God loves us tremendously and only wants to see us emancipated. The world is ultimately a benevolent one and the divine is seeking to liberate us, will do whatever it can to aid that, something aptly demonstrated not only in the Passover story, but in my own personal experience.
For every terrible thing that’s happened to me, there has also been some grace, some assistance. One small example that comes to mind is a few years ago, my neighbor decided a Wednesday night would be a brilliant time to get drunk and high and talk loudly outside. I previously asked for that Thursday off so instead of fretting about not getting any sleep and being unable to function for work, I calmed down understanding I was taken care of, that it was all good.
The universe ultimately wants to see us succeed. There will be obstacles along the way, that’s inevitable, but we will also be given tools to overcome those obstacles. Eventually we will all escape from our own narrow spaces, but maybe not in the way we think.
I dream of a world where we remember we live in a loving universe where the divine wants to see us liberated. A world where we understand there will always be obstacles but we will also experience grace. A world where we understand ultimately, it’s all good.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
It’s been a rough week for my health condition. What that means is this week I’ve been more bothered by noise and other stimuli. I’ve found myself fantasizing about going somewhere else. Some place quiet, removed from people, and idyllic in every way. However, as I’ve learned over and over again, such a place does not exist. Every time I go somewhere I think will be quiet and peaceful, during the period I’m there, unplanned construction takes place, or the refrigerator is exceedingly loud, or there’s a fluke something or other. In short, there is no escape.
When I ask myself what’s up with that, I realize what’s underneath my desire to go someplace different is I don’t want to engage. I don’t want to stand up for myself with a noisy neighbor, I don’t want to assert my boundaries, I don’t want any conflict. If I dig even further, really I want someone else to do those things for me. I want someone else to take care of me and my needs. I want someone else to be the hero, to stand up for me, to put rude people in their place, so I can continue being a soft gooey glob. It should be no surprise then that I surround myself with strong personalities.
We are what we seek.
My higher power though wants me to be a whole and complete person and doesn’t let me get away with that sort of thing. I’ve come to believe that all the trials I’ve been put through regarding boundaries have been so I can do those things for myself. I’ve come to believe my higher power wants me to become my own hero, to stand up for myself, and to put rude people in their place so I can continue being a soft gooey glob inside.
I’m crying as I type that because I know it to be true. I know I’ve been seeking other people to do the things that I must learn to do for myself. I’ve been looking externally when I could have been looking internally. This week it became clear to me, I am the person I seek. I’m not sure I can express the magnitude of that realization for me. To realize all the things I’ve wanted someone else to do for me, I can do for myself. It has been deeply empowering and also very sweet to realize I am the person I’ve been looking for.
There are two quotes from my spiritual teacher that come to mind as pertinent for this topic. The first is, “The sweetest part of God’s play is that He is hidden in everyone and everyone is searching for Him.” The second is, “One who looks for Shiva in the external world, ignoring the Shiva of the internal world, is like one who throws away the rice that is in one’s hand and wanders from door to door in search of one’s livelihood.”
I have been the person throwing away the rice in my hand and then asking why I’m hungry. I’ve been hungry because I’ve been disowning parts of myself, important parts that are crucial for my existence. And interestingly, the universe will keep putting me in situations that require me to become what I’m looking for until I understand the lesson. Just like I don’t have to go to India to find God, I don’t have to go to someone else to find many of the things I seek because they already exist inside of me.
I dream of a world where we realize we are what we seek. A world where we turn internally first to find what we’re looking for. A world where we understand the universe is working in tandem with us to ensure we become the best version of ourselves.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve been struggling a lot this week with “not enough” syndrome. I don’t feel like I’m doing enough in the world, that I’m not helping others according to my capacity, and furthermore, what work I am doing, I pooh pooh as insignificant.
As you know, my skill and talent is writing, but when I look around at me at all the work that needs to be done in the world, it feels like being a writer is useless. I’m not a policymaker or a politician or a doctor. I’m not doing anything concrete to end poverty, for instance, and I hate it.
I spoke with a friend about all this and he reminded me the gifts I’ve been given are gifts. I have them for a reason and it’s important to use what I have. So no, I’m not a doctor or a politician or social worker, and that’s OK. We all have a part to play to contribute to the whole.
Some people are squirrels and some people are monkeys: both are OK.
I’m reminded of the Indian epic the Rámáyańa, but there are stories like it all over sacred texts. During construction of a bridge, the big monkeys carried large stones while the small squirrels brought only tiny grains of sand. My spiritual teacher says, “Is there any difference between the carrying of tiny grains of sand by the squirrels on the one hand and the carrying of a whole mountain by [the God] Hanumán on the other? Both are equally valuable. You may be a small entity like a squirrel, but your existence is in no way insignificant.”
I think I need to tattoo that to my face. I get so caught up in the comparison game, often called “compare and despair” by my recovery friends. I compare myself to what other people are doing and always come up short. I am the squirrel looking at the monkeys saying, “Look at the big rocks they’re carrying! Ugh. I wish I could carry big rocks.” I’m not honoring my contribution of small grains of sand and that’s what’s important – not how large my contribution is, but whether I’m contributing at all. It’s so hard for me to say that because, as I said earlier, I suffer from “not enough syndrome.” I feel like I could be contributing more, and maybe that’s true, but in the moment, my capacity is not all that large. My health isn’t amazing, so no, I can’t do as much as I could before, but maybe that’s OK.
What I’m getting at here, what I’m trying to convince myself of really, is that the important thing is I’m doing something at all. Am I working to my capacity? If so, then I can let myself off the hook for not carrying the big rocks. Because again, a squirrel is just as important as a monkey in the construction of a bridge.
I dream of a world where we work according to our capacity. A world where we understand it’s not important whether we’re contributing a little bit or a large bit, what matters is that we’re contributing at all.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I have a confession to make: I want everything to be easy. I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in this. I think we all want a life of ease and comfort, but I had a conversation recently that irrevocably shifted my perspective.
My dear friend Amal is super into astrology. I don’t mean the “Now is a good time to ask for a raise” kind of astrology that you find at the back of Cosmo magazine. I mean the highly accurate, “Here are the overarching themes and archetypes of your life,” kind of astrology. He recently gave me an impromptu reading (over text message no less!) that rocked my world. He told me if he were to characterize my life as a movie, it would be about a woman who wants to make it in the world, concretely, in her career or in a way that gets her recognition. And furthermore, because of other planetary placements, my career, vocation, and recognition in the world are also where I’ll feel the most blocked.
Our greatest struggle could become our greatest asset.
Ding, ding, ding. Right on the money. When he said that to me, I wanted to burrow under the covers because it was in that moment I realized this is going to be a life-long struggle. As I wrote about in my last post, succeeding in my career will not be as easy as tuning into a 90-minute webinar, as much as I’d like to believe it would. That’s not the movie I’m in. Cue the gun emoji.
He said to me, “Listen, your challenges are what set you up for your greatest potential. If you look at the chart of a famous or accomplished person, it’s not their ‘easy’ or ‘harmonious’ aspects that they express so powerfully. The easy stuff comes automatically; you get lazy about it. No, you look to the hard aspects, the challenges. The challenges are the blueprints of your greatest possible destiny.”
He then proceeded to give me several examples of people with hard aspects who have done something incredible, such as Pope Francis, William Blake, and Bach. It was then I realized my struggles, the places where I suffer, are where power and metamorphosis rest.
My spiritual teacher wrote a letter to his followers and one line of it, which I’m paraphrasing, is “Suffering will be your asset.” I used to think he meant suffering will be our asset because suffering is what builds character, or encourages people to turn to spirituality, or to make changes in the world – and all of that is true – but I’m also starting to think he meant suffering is what forces us, personally, to achieve greatness. It’s when we can work with the hard parts of our lives, when we integrate the things we disown, that we radically transform ourselves and the world.
I dream of a world where we use the hard parts of our lives, the places where we struggle and suffer, to spur us forward. A world where we turn those challenges into our assets. A world where we work with those energies to accomplish something truly great and long-lasting.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
On Tuesday, I woke up with a pain in my neck. On Wednesday, I went to my fantastic network spinal analysis chiropractor to help me with it. After asking me some questions about the pain, what came out of it is I feel like I can’t keep up with my progress. I can’t keep up with myself and all the things I’d like to do.
She walked me through a process of transformation, but what came out of it is she said there is a space between who I am and who I’d like to become. And in that space, I need to breathe in trust and creativity. I don’t need to know how to get where I’d like to go, I just need to trust I’ll get there and remember to be creative.
There is space between who we are and who we’d like to be. And in that space is trust and creativity.
Lordy was that ever what I needed to hear. After coming back from Denmark, I’ve felt listless and despondent because of the differences in our countries. People in Denmark are more chill, as far as I can tell. There isn’t as much of a “go, go, go” energy. Coming back to the Bay Area, the land of start-ups and entrepreneurs, I’ve felt overwhelmed by the hustle in the people I’ve seen around me. I have zero interest right now in making an inspirational meme every day, launching a webinar, or looking for ways to put myself out there more. And because I’ve had no motivation to advance my career, particularly after seeing how the Danes are happy without the intense hustle and bustle, I’ve started to wonder whether it’s OK for me to be where I am. To accept my life as it is, doing the things I’m doing. Can I be content with what I have?
My chiropractor reminded me it’s important to hold on to my dreams and at the same time to let go of the how. I have a tendency to think all the answers are outside of me. That this webinar or that book has the magic formula for me to follow to end up where I’d like to be. To become who I wish. But that’s not true. It’s sooooo not true.
In my yoga and meditation group, we have a mantra we sing after bathing. I won’t post the whole translation here, but the gist is that I am the divine, the divine is working through me, my actions are the divine, and the outcomes of my actions are the divine. In no part am I separate from that which has created everything. In no instance am I on my own.
I don’t have to have all the answers. I don’t have to even know the questions. The important thing for me is to keep trusting, to keep surrendering, and to keep remembering that my higher power is working through me. I am an actor in this great drama of life, but only an actor. And when needed, my higher power will feed me lines and tell me where to stand.
I dream of a world where we keep trusting, surrendering, and using our creativity. A world where we remember we are never alone or helpless because there is a powerful force working through us. A world where we trust that force is helping us to move from the people we are to the people we’d like to become.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.