The other day I went for a walk in the woods by my house. While on the trail, an animal turned around and stared at me for several seconds. It reminded me of a dog, but I didn’t spot an owner and also the face was too triangular. Was this some sort of cat? I kept walking and again the animal turned around. We had another moment. After seeing its tail, I realized, “That’s a fox!” I’d never seen a fox before despite living in a variety of environments. Also, the foxes from children’s books are usually deep red while this creature was more brown.
When I came home, I looked up the meaning of foxes in the book Animal-Speak by Ted Andrews. The whole entry didn’t resonate with me, but one part did. Foxes reflect “a new world opening up, that the process of creation is beginning. It reflects that the world is growing and shapeshifting itself into new patterns that will be beneficial.”
The world is getting smaller and smaller. Photo by The New York Public Library on Unsplash
I know COVID-19 is affecting people negatively, me too, so I don’t want to downplay that, but I’m also wondering if we’re shapeshifting into new patterns that will be beneficial for us. I think about how the National Health Service, the U.K.’s medical care system, sprang from the crisis during World War II. The government started Emergency Hospital Service to care for the wounded during the war because the issue of health provisions was a growing problem. We’re starting to see that in California right now too. The state bought two vacant hospitals to help with the influx of patients due to COVID-19. Are we seeing the beginnings of nationalized healthcare? Maybe.
I also think about how FDR enacted the New Deal during the Great Depression. He promised he would act swiftly to face the “dark realities of the moment” and assured Americans he would “wage a war against the emergency.” I realize Trump is no FDR, but perhaps this is where state’s rights will come into play more and each state will enact policies to benefit its residents.
On a micro level, people seem to be kinder right now. Neighbors are helping neighbors, people are checking up on the elderly, procuring food for those in need, and donating when and where they can. I’ve heard many a comparison to the days following 9/11, but I didn’t live in New York then and didn’t experience the outpouring of kindness and consideration that so many people mention. In my part of the world, things pretty much continued as usual. In this time, we are all affected regardless of our geography. The entire globe is experiencing the same thing to a greater or lesser degree.
My spiritual teacher says during periods of psychic and physical clash like we’re all experiencing “the existential feelings of human beings do not remain confined to their physical bodies alone, but spread to those around them. Initially they think about the welfare of the members of their own families, but with the gradual evolution of their minds, they see themselves as members of a global society and become actively engaged in promoting the well-being of all.”
I think that’s what’s happening here, at least for now. We’re seeing ourselves as part of a global society and promoting the well-being of all. Things are hard and scary right now, absolutely. But maybe as a result of this pandemic we’ll all start caring about each other more and we’ll enact programs that benefit the many instead of the few. That’s my wish anyway.
I dream of a world where we recognize we’re all in this together. A world where we understand we’re a global society and it’s important to promote the well-being of everyone. A world where we take better care of each other because we recognize what affects one person affects us all.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Lately I’ve been thinking about how as much as history is filled with stories of human suffering, it’s also filled with stories about overcoming it. In my own life, I’m prone to tell the former more than the latter. For instance, I’m quick to tell people I was hit by a car as a pedestrian, but rarely do I mention the strangers who stopped for me, who drove me home, who copied down the license plate number. Nor do I mention my friends who rushed over to comfort me, to ply me with arnica and rescue remedy.
Instead of a testament to the kindness of others, I broadcast the tragedy. Even now I notice it’s easier for me to get stuck in the present moment in a bad way. I think the present moment will last forever and have trouble maintaining perspective. It’s hard for me to feel optimistic about my personal future.
I’m reminded here of my maternal grandmother. During the Holocaust, she hid in a potato cellar with a rabbi and his family for 11 months. The living conditions were hellish, as I’m sure you can imagine. Not to mention she contracted typhus and couldn’t get proper medical care because, well, she was in hiding. She wanted to die and the rabbi said to her, “You will get through this. Your life will get better.” My grandma thought he’d lost his mind. She did get through it and her life did get better. Not every moment was a party, but she experienced joy again, which she didn’t think was possible.
True story: I spotted a rainbow on my walk home today. Not this one though. Photo by Simon John-McHaffie on Unsplash
During hard times it’s difficult to remember things change, but they do. Even if I look at the coronavirus as an example, I see that’s true. A month ago I didn’t know it existed and now schools are closed, events are canceled, flights are grounded. A lot has happened very quickly. The same is true for us. Our lives can change in an instant. When I say that, I usually think of it in the negative, as in, forecasting terrible things, but the reality is life can change for the better in an instant too. I could sign a new client tomorrow. I could bump into my future husband on the street after we’ve both emerged from social isolation. A year from now my novel could be a bestseller. I truly don’t know.
Again taking the coronavirus as an example, the air is clearing in China, CO2 emissions are down, and eating wild animals is banned. People are singing across the street to each other every day in Italy. We are all learning how to slow down and connect with one another in new ways, which is beautiful.
I realize we all have a negativity bias and it’s a protective mechanism, but what if we started to skew in the other way? What if we started to search for the positive? For the hope? What if more of us could be like that rabbi in hiding with my grandma and fiercely believe the world would get better? That our lives would get better? Maybe believing it would make it so.
I dream of a world where we maintain our perspective. A world where we remember the present moment is fleeting. A world where we acknowledge suffering as well as the overcoming of it. A world where we hold on to hope for the future as much as we can.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
If I had to characterize the mood of last week, I would say “panicked.” In my circles at least, people are freaking out about the upcoming presidential election. It has a life or death tenor to it. On top of that, the coronavirus is sweeping the world and people are freaking out because there’s a literal life or death element. Conferences are being canceled, travel plans have been thwarted. Cities are discouraging nonessential public events. I get it, and as an empath I also feel it. My adrenal glands haven’t felt this taxed in months. What to do about it?
For me, the answer is slow down. When I slow down, I’m no longer in panic or hysteria because the two cannot coexist. Even right now I’m breathing deeply into my belly. I’m noticing the pause between the inhalation and exhalation. And I’m also saying to myself, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not ever going anywhere.” Do I still feel the niggling of fear at the outer edges? Yes I do. But not as intensely as before, and that’s progress.
This picture makes more sense after reading the next paragraph because I’m talking about waving the white flag. Photo by Bernard Hermant on Unsplash
I also think about surrender here. To surrender means to stop fighting. For me, that means to stop fighting reality, to accept what is right here and right now with the understanding life can change in an instant. When I slow down and accept reality, I notice what arises is grief. I’m sad y’all. I’m sad about the state of the world. I’m sad that minorities are being treated poorly en masse. I’m sad people are ravaging the environment. I’m sad I’m struggling financially. Panic I think is a way to push aside feelings and instead dwell in the “action” state. If I’m running around like a chicken with its head cut off, then I don’t have to sit with my own fear, anger, or sadness. And if you’re paying attention, there’s much be fearful, angry, or sad about.
I think we’re all looking for a parent. We all want someone to come in and take care of us, to make everything better without effort on our part. Maybe I’m projecting, but it certainly seems that way. There’s an expectation our political leaders will act as good parents, and then when they show themselves to be fallible human beings, we’re disappointed. So the question becomes, who can be the parent we’re looking for? Some people get in touch with their own inner loving parent. Some people turn to God or higher power for soothing. As for me, I’m relying on both. I’m parenting myself and I’m also working on surrendering to something greater than me.
I’ve written about surrender a lot over the years. I wish I could surrender once and be done with it, but that’s not how my life goes. Instead, I’m learning to surrender over and over again. Right now, I’m saying, “OK God. OK.” Those seven letters pack a punch. They’re a simple way for me to express that I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s best for me. I’m offering it to God. I wish I could be a woman of faith who completely trusts in the universe. I’m crazy envious of people like that, but the reality is I’m not that person. Sometimes I trust in my higher power and sometimes I don’t. And sometimes I’m brought to my knees like with the current situation we’re all facing. I’m doing my part – voting, washing my hands, etc. – but the reality is I’m not in control. All that’s left for me to do is let go. “OK God. OK.”
I dream of a world where we slow down. A world where we feel our feelings and understand the wisdom in taking inspired action. A world where we recognize we’re not in control of everything and we’re able to let go. A world where we’re able to surrender because sometimes that’s the only action we can take.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve written about this topic several times over the years, but it bears repeating. Right now as I’m in a transition phase of my life, being self-employed and all, I’m building my faith muscle. Particularly, faith that everything I need is and will be provided. At the same time, I’m working to let go of control and to trust that all will be well.
This weekend one of my closest friends picked me up for an excursion. She asked me to be ready by 8:45. I’m a punctual person, but not so much in the morning. It takes me a looooong time to get ready and more often than not I’m a little late when it comes to morning appointments. On Saturday, I dawdled a little too long on my phone and lounging in my bed. Anxiety ticked up because I worried I’d be late. I don’t like to keep people waiting, especially when they’re driving over to my house. The anxiety escalated and escalated because by 8:30 I hadn’t brushed my teeth, changed out of my pjs, or eaten breakfast. For some people 15 minutes is plenty of time to do all those things. For me, it’s not.
Everything will be given. Photo by Chungkuk Bae on Unsplash
My “Oh no!” voice started squawking and I took a deep breath and said a prayer, inspired by the new author and spiritual teacher I’m reading, Tosha Silver. She wrote a book called Change Me Prayers that invokes transformation by starting her prayers with “change me.” For instance, “Change me, divine beloved, into one who relaxes with great ease into the unknown.” In the midst of my freak out on Saturday, I said with earnestness, “Change me, divine beloved, into someone who is OK being late sometimes. Or have my friend run a little late to give me more time. I trust you and know that you’ll have what’s best for all of us happen. Thank you. Amen.” And then wouldn’t you know it, my friend was seven minutes late. It’s not very much, but it was enough to ensure I could finish getting ready.
It’s a small thing, but the incident reminded me everything I need is given to me. That there is a divine intelligence at play in the universe, and I don’t have to keep a tight fist of control on everything. When I’m anxious, I’m trying to make things go my way and worry that they won’t. I wanted to be ready at 8:45 on the dot even though I truly needed more time considering how I’d already spent my morning. Things unfolded in such a way that my needs were met, and my friend’s needs were met. When I pray, I open myself to my higher power’s will, which is precisely what my spiritual teacher advocates.
He says the best prayer is, “Do whatever You think fit and best for me. I do not know in which way lies my good – You know.” Because praying in that way is offering it to Cosmic Consciousness, it’s surrendering to something greater than yourself with the reminder the human brain only knows and sees so much. Do I know whether it’s in my highest and best good to sign that client or marry that person? No, because I don’t know everything. But God, Supreme Consciousness, Brahma, etc. is omniscient and knows waaaay more than I do. And furthermore, when I put my life in the hands of that loving entity, that’s when miracles occur and I witness over and over again that all is provided.
I dream of a world where we surrender to a power greater than ourselves. A world where we pray for what’s in our highest and best good to transpire. A world where we let go as much as we can and recognize everything we need will be provided to us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Something funny happened to me. This morning I read in Tosha’s Silver’s book It’s Not Your Money that sometimes when we’re angry we need to break something. She recommends plates but it could be anything – stuffed animals, coconuts, phone books. I felt the urge to break something but then talked myself out of it because I didn’t want to deal with the clean up. Even if I broke plates in my garage I can’t leave shards lying around. I mean, I suppose I could, but people park in there. What would happen to their tires? Therefore I dismissed breaking anything and considered buying a coconut later this week.
I grabbed my water glass and wouldn’t you know it – it hit my counter in such a way that it shattered. Not into a million pieces thank goodness, but enough to mean I pulled out the vacuum cleaner. It was kind of satisfying to hear and see the glass smash AND it was also a pain in the butt to clean up the debris. Some people might think my experience just now was a coincidence but I’m not a butterfingers. I don’t regularly break dishes. In fact, the last time I broke a water glass was more than four years ago, so we can’t chalk it up to me being a klutz.
Not my glasses. Photo by Jana Sabeth on Unsplash
I’m writing about this, I’m making meaning out of the broken glass, because I think it indicates what’s in my best good will happen. I may try to prevent it, but it will happen. Also, sometimes what’s best for me will hurt or be annoying. In this instance, I cut myself. I bled a little. And I had to clean up the broken glass. It wasn’t fun, I didn’t enjoy it, but the part of me that needed to break something feels satisfied. Emotionally I feel better.
I’m also thinking about samskaras here, or reactive momenta. Samskaras are related to the law of karma, or the law of action. As we know, for every action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction. But what happens if the reaction takes a second? Or more than a second? That potential reaction, the seed of the reaction to an action, is called a samskara in Sanskrit. According to my spiritual tradition, we carry these samskaras with us from one lifetime to the next. When a samskara is expressed, we often attribute that to luck, both good and bad.
I spend a lot of time thinking about luck. I long for good luck and I worry about bad luck. “Worry” isn’t quite the right word, it’s more like obsess. Especially when it comes to safety. I’m scared to go to movie theaters because I’m worried about mass shootings. I’m nervous attending religious services for the same reason. The first thing I do when I enter a space is notice the exits in case I need to make a quick getaway. Some of this is warranted, I do live in the U.S. after all, but I worry about these things as if noticing them will prevent them from happening. If I’m hypervigilant, then nothing can happen to me, right? Weeeellllllllll.
Another way to think of samskaras is to equate them with a curriculum. There are certain things that are meant for us in this lifetime. We can’t run away from them as much as we try. It’s why the healthiest person you know gets cancer. Or your friend can’t find a job despite applying all over creation. It would be easy to sink into defeatism here. To say, “Oh well. That’s my fate. Can’t do anything about it,” but that’s both true and not true. We make new samskaras all the time. How we show up in the world still matters AND certain things are inevitable. I think what this comes down to is serenity, encapsulated by the serenity prayer: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
Right now, I’m figuring out what I can change and what I can’t. I’m working on accepting what’s coming to me, both good and bad. How can I be more serene? That, my friends, is the work.
I dream of a world where we recognize what’s needed in our lives will happen. A world where we understand what’s necessary isn’t always pleasant. A world where we realize someone else’s life curriculum isn’t necessarily ours and vice versa. A world where we live in serenity as best we can one day at a time.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Within the past couple of weeks I started reading a life-changing book. I don’t use the phrase “life-changing” lightly. Very few books embed themselves so deeply into my psyche that I find myself irrevocably altered as a result. I’m not even finished with the book yet but already I’m behaving differently.
The book is Tosha Silver’s It’s Not Your Money. I mean, even the title tells you this is something different, right? Instead of the mindset “It’s mine! What can I do to get more?” Tosha instead asks the reader to offer up money (and everything really) to the divine beloved. To recognize nothing on this planet is truly “ours” in a permanent way. We are merely caretakers for the time being. For instance, eventually the computer I’m typing this on will get donated or recycled.
Gorgeous, right? Photo by Brooke Lark on Unsplash
What Tosha invokes in her book is the reminder we aren’t operating in the world alone. I’m not the one solely responsible for making money or finding a romantic partner or whatever. I listened to a podcast she appeared on and she said people often say, “You’ll never find a parking spot in that area,” or “You’ll never find an affordable place to live in that neighborhood,” etc. She recognizes the person is right – if they don’t invoke the divine beloved. So in her mind she tacks on “without God.” So for instance, “You’ll never find a parking spot in that area, without God.” It’s not so much a trick to manifesting everything we desire, so much as recognizing with God/source/the universe anything and everything is possible. If something is in our best interest, if it’s in our highest good, the Supreme will make it so.
I know that to be true in my own life. Many years ago a friend counseled me about finding a place to live and he said there are three factors to housing: cost, size, and location. And then he said, “Now pick two,” meaning, nobody gets all three. In the extremely expensive rental market of the Bay Area, I did get all three: an apartment in my price range, the size I wanted, and in a good location, which was truly an act of grace. I’ve seen miracles in my life, and now I’m consciously inviting love to take charge of all aspects, including finances.
This week after reading a line from Tosha’s book I immediately burst into tears and then wrote it on a piece of masking tape by my doorknob so I see it every time I enter or exit my apartment. She talked about letting go of old stories and no matter what happened in the past, we can do things differently and live a new reality. She said, “This life now belongs to love and anything can happen.” Wow y’all. That line. I hope you can feel the power of it, the recognition that love is here and when we open up to the divine, anything can happen. Bills miraculously get paid. Our soulmate knocks on our door. Opportunities abound.
What Tosha is talking about here is surrendering to something greater than ourselves. It’s about letting love into our lives to lead. It’s about letting go of control and recognizing there is a divine presence here, in this moment, in every moment. That a loving force moves through me and through you. And furthermore, we can consciously invite that loving force into our lives. I’ve been on the spiritual path for a long time and I still need the reminder that surrender doesn’t end the minute I leave my meditation cushion. Real surrender means saying, “Hey God/higher power/universe, I want you to take care of this. Please guide my actions. I trust where you are leading me,” and then we let go, knowing whatever needs to come, comes, and whatever needs to go, goes. Because truly, this life belongs to love.
I dream of a world where we recognize the power and the presence of a loving force in our lives. A world where we’re able to surrender and let go of our micromanaging tendencies and fully trust all true needs will be met, and often in amazing and wonderful ways. A world where we realize we never walk alone because this life belongs to love.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
On Friday, I came home and found my plants had been cut. My jasmine, lovingly tended to for the past three years, was reduced to a wisp. My long, woody-stemmed wildflower vanished. Shock, grief, betrayal – I felt all those things. I realize some people might be scratching their heads saying, “They’re just plants. They’ll grow back.” But like I wrote about last week, I operate under the belief all living beings have souls. My plants are like my pets – I talk to them, they have names. I care whether they live or die. I’m very attached to my plants.
The experience also has me contemplating what many black and brown people are undergoing right now. They come home from work or school and find their loved ones just gone, vanished. If I felt this way about my plants, how much worse must it be with a family member? How can we do this to one another? The answer? We have an identity problem, in my opinion.
When children are ripped from their parents, some people will say, “Well, they’re not my children,” and leave it at that. Or they’ll spout rationalizations for why inhumane treatment is justified: “They broke the law,” or something similar. It’s a way of cutting themselves off from others. People who don’t seem to mind children sitting in cages have a boundary to their identity.
Where does your identity stop? Photo by Amol Tyagi on Unsplash
Let’s talk about identity a bit more. When you ask someone, “Who are you?” They’ll likely state their name and then other labels like gender, age, ethnicity, etc. If you ask them to go a little deeper, they might start talking about their family or nationality. Maybe they’ll mention their political affiliation. All of that is fine – I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with identifying in that way, but can identity go further than that? If we stop our identity at a certain point, when I talk about “my” children and “your” children, it’s easier for me to put “your” children in cages.
My friend gave a talk about this last summer and he asked, “How is it we can celebrate and protect human diversity while seeking to transcend divisions so we can socially cohere into something deeper, truer, to who we are on the inside rather than how we project on the outside?” Meaning, how do we keep our labels but also go beyond them?
Because that’s the truth, isn’t it? I’m not just my name, age, and gender. If you took all of those things away, wouldn’t I still be me? In various types of meditation, the point is to get in touch with the unchanging “you.” The “you” that’s calm and ever present. The “you” that’s unaffected by superficial trappings. And the more we touch that part, the more we realize everyone has that part. That Self exists universally. I see myself in others and others in myself. It’s why I get upset about dying plants and children in cages.
Some people might say I feel that way because I’m so openhearted. That’s true, I am, but I would also argue it’s because of how I identify. I identify with plants, animals, children. My identity is one of inclusion rather than exclusion.
Everything I’m talking about is the philosophy of neohumanism. Truthfully, neohumanism is more than a philosophy, it’s a worldview that guides every step. It allows me to sink into who I really am at the core. If we all practiced that more, I doubt we’d have children in cages or environmental atrocities because we’d recognize we are more than the bodies we inhabit.
I dream of a world where we recognize who we really are. A world where we identify with more than our limiting labels, not as a way of discarding them, but rather recognizing we are also much more than our labels. A world where we tap into an unchanging, eternal Self and see that Self in others. A world where we remember I am you, you are me, and we are one.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
It’s gusty where I am right now and outside my window I can see wisps of plant matter floating through the air. It feels like a metaphor for my life right now, and not just mine, but our society in general. Strong winds keep unsettling us, thrusting us in new situations. As I check social media, I see a lot of disbelief and dismay regarding the impeachment trial of Donald Trump. (And also some jokes.) Did any of us think we’d wind up here? I sure didn’t.
As I ponder the “why” of it all, I think about a conversation I had with dear friends of mine. I told them I noticed there’s a tendency for men who mistreat nature to also mistreat women. For instance, Trump continues to rollback environmental protections and he’s on record saying he can grab women by, well, you know the quote. Unbeknownst to me until recently, my observation is the premise of ecofeminism – a movement that sees a connection between the exploitation and degradation of the natural world and the subordination and oppression of women.
A woman in nature. Seemed perfect for this post. Photo by Jackson David on Unsplash
It makes sense because both the mistreatment of women and the plundering of Earth start with objectification. I don’t think Trump views women (or minorities for that matter) as people and instead reduces them to neatly packaged labels and harmful stereotypes. For instance, “Mexicans are rapists and drug dealers.” He and others like him view people and the environment in transactional terms: “What can I get?” They think about how they can benefit the most financially or in terms of acquiring power.
When Trump was first elected, I heard many people remark that they wanted a businessman at the helm of the United States. That aspect appealed to them. What people neglected to factor in is businessmen usually care first and foremost about profit, and when profit is the bottom line, people and the environment get reduced to objects. Soul is taken out of the equation. And “soul” is not limited to humans, in my opinion. I think even trees have souls or consciousness because more and more research emerges that trees talk to each other, support each other, and behave in ways that we never imagined. The same is likely true for other animate and inanimate objects.
To tie in my spiritual practice here, an ethical principle I live by is brahmacarya. It means “to remain attached to Brahma,” or Cosmic Consciousness, or Source, or whatever term you want to use. My spiritual teacher says, “Whenever people do some work or think of doing any work extroversially, they look upon the object, with which they come in contact, as a crude finite entity. Because of their constant aspiration for material achievement their mind is so engrossed in material objects that their very consciousness becomes crude. The meaning of practicing brahmacarya is to treat the object with which one comes in contact as different expressions of Brahma and not as crude forms.”
I know some traditions define brahmacarya as abstinence. I think that’s a definition that evolved over time because if you think about it, a lack of brahmacarya means objectification, and that can lead to sexual misconduct. To avoid sexual misconduct and to simplify matters, people started equating brahmacarya with abstinence.
To go back to Donald Trump, there’s nothing I can do to encourage him to “re-soul” the people and things in his life, but perhaps I can spur the people around me to engage in brahmacarya. It’s hard to constantly think of something as an expression of an infinite loving consciousness, but it’s more than a mental exercise. It’s also our actions. When you see a moth fluttering inside your house, do you kill it without a second thought? Or do you try to trap it and put it outside? When something breaks do you try to fix it or do you immediately throw it away, thereby increasing the environmental impact? All of these actions matter because it’s our way of saying plants, animals, people, our environment, are sacred, and it’s our way of reintroducing soul into what often seems like a soul-less world. And I’m all for more soul.
I dream of a world where we treat everything as a different expression of Cosmic Consciousness. A world where we stop objectifying everything and everyone because we see there’s more beneath the surface than we previously imagined. A world where we “re-soul” our planet by recognizing everything matters and we act accordingly.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
A month or two ago I heard on a podcast I listen to that the wound is also the gift. It’s a phrase that’s stuck with me because it rang true, but I couldn’t quite grapple how. This week provided me clarity on the subject.
I’ve always been a sensitive person but growing up I didn’t know how to handle my emotions. I tried to shut them down or numb out in a variety of ways. Those two strategies run rampant in our society and it’s why we see such high rates of addiction and insensitivity. Emotions can be scary for people, especially when the messages a person receives are, “Don’t be sad, don’t be scared, don’t be angry.”
Speaking from experience, it’s impossible for me not to feel sad, scared, or angry, and trying other means to NOT feel my feelings only harmed me. These days I’m taking a new tactic which is to feel my feelings and use them as information to guide me in my life. But because I’ve been on both sides it means I can use my wound and make it a gift. It means that now I live and breathe empathy. In fact, I taught an empathy workshop at a retreat recently. I never thought I’d be a person who is helping other people process their emotions when I was so unskilled, but now, people regularly call me when they’re upset or scared or sad. My emotional wound turned me into someone with high emotional intelligence, and my gift is now I understand how to set and maintain healthy boundaries so I’m not overwhelmed by emotions anymore. Not always, not in every circumstance.
I know it’s not a wound, or a gift, but I liked this picture. Photo by Lina Trochez on Unsplash
I still try to numb out sometimes, or push my emotions away, but the frequency is less and the duration is shorter. My own experience is helping others. Do I want to be a therapist? Absolutely not because I’m too introverted for that, but I’d love to ghostwrite for therapists. And even without parlaying emotional hygiene into a career, I’m helping myself and my community through modeling and acting as a resource. I’ve come to understand the only way out of anything is through, and that means my feelings too.
My spiritual teacher talks about this as well. He says regarding the innate propensities people have, for instance shyness or cruelty, “You shouldn’t check the flow. You may check the flow to check the flood, but you are to divert that water through different canals. Here also you are to check the flow of your baser propensities and divert it unto that singular propensity, toward the Supreme Self … The mind is moving toward so many unrighteous activities. Withdraw those activities and guide it toward the singular righteous Entity.”
You can’t direct the flow of something if you avoid it altogether. And you might find the things that hurt you become assets later on when helping others. We all have wounds and sometimes those wounds become gifts that foster connection, love, and support. You never know, but it’s an interesting question to ponder.
I dream of a world where we recognize sometimes the things that wounded us also become our greatest gifts. A world where we take what we’ve learned and use it to help others. A world where we come to terms with our past hurts and use them to propel us forward.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I am a connector. For those of you who’ve read Malcolm Gladwell’s Tipping Point, you’ll know what I’m talking about. For those of you unfamiliar with the book, in essence it means I’ll say to someone, “Oh, you have Lyme disease? I have a friend with Lyme disease. Do you want me to put you in touch?” I do this all the time with everyone. It’s not just platonic connections, it’s romantic ones too, although those are more rare. Connecting people comes so naturally to me I briefly entertained the idea of becoming a matchmaker. I even interviewed with a matchmaking firm and made it through their interview rounds before I decided it was too much pressure to ensure a person went on a certain number of dates every month.
An ex-boyfriend noticed how much I connected people and he said, “But who does that for you?” A couple of people return the favor, but my biggest matchmaker is the universe. I find there’s a divine intelligence at play that somehow knows just who I need to speak to and when, as well as vice versa. For the past week I’ve been in the “matchmaking flow” and it excites me, inspires me, and reminds me the world is magical.
Isn’t this a great picture?!? Photo by Christopher Beloch on Unsplash
I’m trading services with my chiropractor and she recommended I interview a couple of people regarding their experiences. I called one of the people and we got to chatting. It turns out she lives literally a block away from me! And on top of that, she told me she’s been looking for a writer for her business. We both laughed at how I’ve been looking for clients and she’s been looking for a writer. I don’t know if we’ll end up working together, but just the fact she’s a potential client is thrilling. I didn’t orchestrate that meeting. It completely came out of the blue as a result of praying and asking the universe for help. As an important caveat, I want to mention this stuff is not on my timeline. It’s not a math formula. For instance, I have single friends who yearn to be partnered and they pray and ask for help all the time. But they’re still single. And then there are other people who have crazy miracle stories.
For instance, I read a news article about a woman who dreamed of a telephone number. When she woke up, she called it and a man answered. They got to chatting and over time developed such strong feelings for one another they got married. How does that happen?
My spiritual teacher says that “whatever happens in this universe of ours is nothing but an expression of Cosmic desire or Cosmic will … when a human desire and His desire coincide, then only does the human desire become fruitful.”
I view matchmaking as an act of Cosmic will. To me it means the universe is pushing me in a certain direction. My life works better when I believe there’s a benevolent force guiding me and for the moment, it’s coming through in the form of matchmaking, for which I’m grateful.
I dream of a world where we recognize the magic and the mystery in the universe. A world where we realize not only are people matchmakers, but the universe is a matchmaker too. A world where we realize sometimes the universe wants to give us a helping hand and that comes through people showing up in our lives out of the blue.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.