Lately I’ve been humbled and in awe of the magic, the mystery, and the surprise of life. So often I think I know how things will play out and I’m being shown, yet again, I have no idea. This has come up especially in regard to people.
I met someone in December 2013 who I liked right off the bat and had high hopes for his involvement with my yoga and meditation community. He seemed so keen and enthusiastic. He came to our newly formed group meditation a few times consecutively and then stopped. I wrote him off, never expecting to see him again except on facebook. Someone else in the group said, “Well, that’s the last time we’ll see that guy again.” But it wasn’t. About a year later, “that guy” surprised us by coming around again. He’s shown himself to be a dedicated member of my community, and much to my surprise, he’s a dear friend and an important person in my life. Go figure.
Similarly, three years ago I connected with someone and felt affection for him right away. We hung out a few times and then I didn’t hear much from him again. I assumed he would be a peripheral friend, someone I’d invite to a party, but nothing more. Color me shocked when he called me up last week to catch up and reconnect. That’s not how I was expecting things to play out. And that’s the point – I never know how things will play out. I throw myself into a tizzy thinking about the future because I’m absolutely sure I know what will happen. If I’m not friends with you now, I won’t be friends with you later. If I’m single now, I’ll be single forever. If I’m in debt now, I’ll be in debt forever. It’s a small thing, but these two men remind me I have no freaking clue what the future holds and also demonstrate to me someone else is in charge here.
Indian-American economist, author, and professor Ravi Batra wrote a book in the late 80s that became a number one New York Times bestseller. He attributed his success to the “cosmic magician.” I love that. It certainly seems that way when something unexpected and amazing happens like writing a runaway bestseller when all your previous books weren’t as successful. Thinking of the cosmic magician reminds me amazing and magical things can happen and they’re not up to me. I’m not the one responsible for outcomes, or the fruits of my labor, if you will. Not just with writing, but with everything.
My spiritual teacher says, “Behind this world’s creation, there is a cosmic magician who has created the universe and also controls it. In fact, whatever has been or shall be created is He and He alone. Those who have realized this truth attain blessedness.”
When I can remember the cosmic magician, I can relax because it means I’m not responsible for everything in my life. Some things yes. But everything? No. There are greater forces at play in the world that have absolutely nothing to do with me. Furthermore, I remind myself of what the true essence of all things is: the divine. When I do that, the whole world sparkles and life becomes magical.
I dream of a world where we remember the cosmic magician. A world where we realize there are greater forces at work than we often credit. A world where we allow ourselves to be open to whatever comes our way because we have no idea what’s ahead.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
On Thursday, I went to a focus group in the city. It was supposed to be an hour and 40 minutes in which my brain would be picked and my opinions offered. When I arrived at the destination, I was told the focus group over-recruited and I could leave. However, I was paid for my time all the same. Kaching! It was the best possible outcome I could have asked for. Walking out of the building I laughed to myself and called a friend to proclaim, “God really loves me.”
Now, God loves me all the time, unconditionally, but these extra special instances, these moments of grace, demonstrate that love in a tangible way. Some people might say those moments of grace are proof that I’m living in alignment with God’s will for me, that I’m a powerful manifestor, or whatever, but I disagree. I had nothing to do with getting dismissed from the focus group – it didn’t even enter into my mind as a possibility. I had absolutely zero part in orchestrating that situation.
A few years ago I wrote a post about grace and exclaimed in delight about all the wonderful and magical things that happened to me during a trip to Italy. One example is I showed up to the museum housing Michelangelo’s David and was told admission was free as I’m a woman and it was International Women’s Day. I didn’t plan that, I didn’t even know it was a thing. When I told a friend about it later I worried she would think I was bragging, and her response was something along the lines of, “How could I possibly think you were bragging? As if you had a hand in any of that!”
I bring this up because an issue I have with New Age spirituality, or at least my interpretation of it, is this idea that everything is down to us, for better or for worse. Having a good day? You manifested that! Having a bad day? You manifested that too! Sometimes it’s true, and our attitudes make a huge difference in how we experience life, but also there are many things out of our control and grace is one of those things.
My spiritual teacher says, “You know that divine grace does not depend on any logic; it depends only on the whims of [God]. If [God] is satisfied with your intuitional practice, with your sincere zeal then He may bless you … Let human beings perform virtuous deeds, practice meditation, serve the suffering humanity, and in return they will attain His grace.”
I know that makes God sound very “old man in the sky,” which is not how my teacher defines God, but language has its limits you know? The point he’s making, as I understand it, is we can’t control when we’re graced or not. All we can do is keep moving ahead on the spiritual path, performing good deeds for others, and then every now and again when the universe deems it so, we’ll get to see Michelangelo’s David for free or get dismissed from a focus group. But we don’t decide when or if those things happen.
I dream of a world where we all experience grace. A world where we recognize grace is a gift and not a reward. A world where instead of saying, “Yes! I created this moment!” we say, “Thank you,” because we recognize the moments of grace for the expressions of love that they are.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I hear quite often that life is an illusion, or a dream. People say that only heaven is real and what we’re experiencing is a very realistic movie.
I sort of understand this perspective, because as I’ve written about before, I have a practice whereby I ascribe God-hood to everything, even inanimate objects. I do that to remind myself the keys I’m typing on are not keys, they are God in the form of keys. So if people are saying life is an illusion because everything is really an expression of God, then I can get behind this “life is an illusion” business.
However, what I often see is people use the concept of life as an illusion to be apathetic and not do anything. If life is really an illusion, does it matter that there are wildfires raging in California? Does it matter that some people live in squalor while others live in opulence? If life is a realistic movie, then what’s the point of intervening? Instead, all we’re experiencing is a temporary projection, a way to pass the time until we get to the good stuff, until we get to heaven.
Friends, this is not an attitude I can abide by. I mean, I get it. It’s very appealing to think life is an illusion because then all the horrible stuff that goes on in the world doesn’t really matter and we don’t have to get upset about it. We can soothe ourselves like kids waking from a nightmare by saying, “It was just a dream.” However, even if we are living in a dream or a realistic movie, we all have a part to play. We were assigned roles and those roles must be fulfilled, otherwise the movie would be very boring. All good stories have conflict and resolution. If we take the attitude life is an illusion and rest on our laurels, life is all conflict and no resolution.
I honestly don’t see how saying, “life is an illusion” is helpful. However, I’m about to get all contradictory here because in yogic philosophy there is a concept called Máyá, who is the Supreme Creative Principle. Máyá is responsible for all of creation and is often translated as illusion precisely because the yogis are encouraging us to see the world as it really is: an expression of the divine.
My spiritual teacher says, “When people attain supremacy over Máyá through their … [spiritual efforts or meditation], the veil of darkness moves aside from their minds and then there remains no difference between their own self-effulgence and the Brahmic effulgence – both are fused into one.”
I guess what I’m saying here is why wait for heaven? Why postpone happiness and the good stuff for a time that may never come? As someone who believes in reincarnation, I’m going to keep cycling through a human life over and over again. If I don’t believe in heaven, does that mean I’ll never experience reality? That I’ll live in an endless illusion? That sounds pretty horrible to me. I’d rather bring enlightenment, bliss, and freedom to the present day by recognizing life is sort of an illusion. The illusion is not life itself, but rather that physical objects are all that exist, that material goods are all that matter. The illusion is believing we and everything around us are anything less than bright, shining lights of divinity.
I dream of a world where instead of viewing life as an illusion we view it as a projection of divinity. A world where we bring enlightenment, bliss, and freedom into the present moment. A world where we do what we can to uplift all of humanity and make heaven a real place that exists on Earth.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve been hearing a lot about “being in the flow” or returning to the flow. The way being in the flow is presented is when you hit every green light and run into a friend unexpectedly on the street and everything is going your way. In other words, a really good day. Not being in the flow then, means hitting every red light, just missing the person you wanted to see, and nothing is going your way. In other words, a really bad day.
Maybe this is just my interpretation, but it seems to me people say when we’re not in the flow, it’s our fault. It’s because I’m not thinking the right thoughts, I’m not aligning with the divine, I’m not grateful enough, or whatever. The reason though always has something to do with me.
When I start to think about being in the flow from that perspective, it doesn’t make sense. How can everything be my fault? I don’t control the universe. For every action there is a reaction – that’s a law of nature. How could I possibly be the cause of whether or not some guy gets drunk and runs a red light? Therefore, how could I possibly be the one to cause all of my good days and bad days? Even if we all were little islands, even islands are subjected to storms and wave currents. We aren’t in control of everything and when I try to be, I only succeed in making myself crazy.
There seems to be this notion, again, maybe of my own perception, that when a person becomes really spiritual, when they’re “thinking the right thoughts,” that all of sudden life is peachy keen and they never have another trouble again. And if they have any sort of troubles, it’s because they attracted it to themselves. When I think about one of the most famous spiritual teachers, Jesus Christ, his life was not sunshine and roses. What’s so amazing about Jesus was his ability to forgive, to continue preaching peace and love despite all the horrible things he went through. That to me is real spirituality, not living a trouble-free life.
My spiritual teacher says every human being willingly or unwillingly dances in harmony with the rise and fall of the cosmic waves. That there is a ceaseless and eternal cosmic flow. That to me means I stay in the flow by remembering I’m never out of the flow, even when I’m late for all my appointments, lose my luggage, and have a day I’d rather not experience again.
When people talk about getting back in the flow, it’s a good reminder to touch base with the divine, to feel the love that’s all around me, but it’s also important to remember just because I’m letting the universal energy move through me, doesn’t mean life will always be a pleasure cruise.
Almost exactly two years ago I wrote a post called, “Love is the Container,” about how even when I’m sad, angry, scared, etc. love is there, love is holding all of those emotions. In the same way, when nothing goes right, I’m still in the cosmic flow. But maybe instead of cresting the wave, I’m down in the trough. Life is a constant flow with ups and downs and I’ll never be able to tell the waves to quit moving, so instead, it’s better for me to enjoy the ride whether I’m surfing or crashing.
I dream of a world where we realize we are always in the flow, whether we’re having a good day or a bad one. A world where instead of striving for ceaseless pleasure, we work on adjusting ourselves and our attitudes. A world where we realize to stay in the flow we don’t have to do anything because we never left.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Last week, I watched an inspirational movie about kids who utilized their talents to win scholarships to college and pull themselves out of poverty. All of the kids were the first in their families to go to college, and by doing so they become teachers, writers, policemen, etc. They weren’t forced to work in low-wage jobs like their parents were.
I teared up watching the flick – I love that they improved their lives – but then I got to thinking, “What about everyone else?” What about the kids who don’t have an exceptional talent that wins them a scholarship? These kids escaped the cycle of poverty, but someone else is waiting in the wings to take their place. Just because one person no longer has to pick oranges for a living doesn’t mean oranges stop getting picked. It doesn’t mean all the other orange pickers no longer have to endure poor working conditions and low wages.
The cycle of exploitation continues and our capitalistic economy feeds off it. In the case of food production, almost literally. Why is this? Because we continue to emphasis the rights of individuals (or corporations, who are now considered people) over the collective.
I’ve seen the individual versus the collective show up in a big way this week with the killing of Cecil the Lion. Minnesotan dentist Walter Palmer paid $50,000 to hunt Cecil the Lion, who was a big tourist attraction in Zimbabwe. Did Palmer think about anyone other than himself when he set out to kill Cecil? No he did not. He was prioritizing his own selfish interests.
Another way that the individual versus the collective is prioritized is the public’s reaction to the killing of Cecil. We’re directing so much ire against Palmer, but not talking as much about poaching laws in general. Outrage has reached such a fever pitch that Zimbabwe is calling for Palmer’s extradition and many people in the U.S. agree. I think part of the reason we’re seeing so much outrage over Cecil is it’s easy to excoriate an individual.
A few of my friends who are more focused on the collective have exclaimed they wish society would be as outraged over the killing of black people in our country as people are over the killing of Cecil. It’s harder to evoke as much outrage against a system, which is also harder to dismantle, than it is to get pissed off an at individual. Racism is so rampant, it’s seeped into many aspects of life, and how do you go about changing something like that?
I think it starts with prioritizing the collective. There is an African proverb that says, “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” We are not going to go far if we keep focusing on ourselves alone. We are not going to solve any of our serious societal problems if we’re thinking, “How can I benefit?” instead of “How can we benefit?” Life can be better for all of us but that starts with striking a balance between the individual and the collective.
My spiritual teacher says, “One must not forget that collective welfare lies in individuals and individual welfare lies in collectivity. Without ensuring individual comforts through the proper provision of food, light, air, accommodation, and medical treatment, the welfare of the collective body can never be achieved. One will have to promote individual welfare motivated by the spirit of promoting collective welfare.”
I dream of a world where we go far, together. A world where we prioritize taking care of each other. A world where we understand what’s good for the collective is also good for the individual. A world where we work to raise each other up, and improve life for us all, because after all, you plus me equals we.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Last week I had a conversation with someone about sounds and mantras and why is “om” used in so many of them?
The short answer is “om,” also spelled “aum,” is the sound of the universe. By the way, this isn’t limited to the beliefs of yogis – it also shows up in the bible. In the book of John, starting from the first verse it says, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made.”
I interpret the “word” here to be synonymous with sound because words are sounds. When I read a word, I’m repeating it in my head, using my voice, so it’s a sound, just not one others can hear, unless I’m muttering to myself.
At first blush, the notion that there’s a sound to the universe and that it’s om seems kind of silly. There are many sounds in the world from refrigerators humming to birds chirping to cars honking, and that sure doesn’t sound like a ceaseless om the likes of which you’d hear in a yoga class.
What’s interesting to think about is how given distance, sounds blend together. From far away, a farmer’s market sounds like a medley of chatter, but when I get closer, I hear kids crying and people asking for chard and couples laughing. Just as all of the sounds of the farmer’s market are blended into one roaring soundwave, maybe all the sounds of the universe are blended into the unified form of all sounds: om. Perhaps what’s going on here is my ears are not sensitive or powerful enough to hear the universal sound, and two, I can’t adequately recreate the sound of om in this human form.
Here’s something else that’s neat about om. Om/aum consists of five symbols: a, the acoustic root of creation; u, the acoustic root of preservation; ma, the acoustic root of destruction; the dot, the symbol of the unmanifested universe; and the crescent, the symbol of the process of manifestation. More succinctly, om is the acoustic root of creation, preservation, and destruction, plus the principle of transmutation from the unmanifested to the manifested. In its very make up om is an encapsulation of the universe! How cool is that?
I find it fascinating that something as complex as the cycle of life and death can be boiled down to a symbol, and furthermore, that symbol is a sound our universe makes. There’s something neat to me about how om is like a seed containing everything within it. That perhaps even things that are seemingly complex are actually quite simple but I don’t have enough information to see them that way.
I dream of a world where the complex is made simple. A world where we use om as an example of how individual differences can be made to blend into something universal. A world where we can decipher om in all the sounds we can hear.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Marriage has been on my mind a lot because everyone and their mother (including mine) is trying to set me up. “He’s single, you’re single: It’s a match!” No one has actually said that to me, but that’s the impression I get based on who people are trying to set me up with. Now, I realize a single person writing about marriage is like a virgin writing about sex, but here I am anyway, fumbling about.
An aspect that I don’t hear discussed often about marriage is its ability to enhance spiritual growth. Usually, marriage is couched in terms of companionship, of having someone to start a family with, and just generally a partner in life that you love. Something else that seems to creep in from my outside perspective is this idea that someone else is responsible for a person’s feelings. That someone else is responsible for our happiness.
I have a big problem with that way of thinking, because as was so aptly pointed out in a New York Times piece called “The Wedding Toast I’ll Never Give,” there will be times where a person will look at his or her spouse and feel only rage. Nobody else is responsible for my happiness and putting them in charge of it is only asking for trouble. I can speak from experience here because I used to make certain people my cocaine and that resulted in some of the most painful experiences of my life.
I often quote Marianne Williamson who says, “Romantic relationships are like getting a PhD in spirituality.” What does that mean exactly? It means other people don’t exist to make me feel good; it means every person and every relationship is a teacher. All of them provide opportunities to bring me closer to the divine. Marriage then becomes about living my life in a “new way with a special type of responsibility,” as my spiritual teacher would say.
In fact, the marriage oaths of my spiritual practices are that the person takes upon themselves the responsibility for their spouse’s food, clothes, education, medical care, etc. That the spouse will be vigilant to safeguard the other’s mental peace and ensure their mental progress, as well safeguarding the other’s spiritual progress. These oaths to me mean sincerely taking care of another person’s all-around welfare and growth. That marriage is about taking into account not only another person’s needs, but trying to help them along the spiritual path. The emphasis is not on the self, but on another.
Does that sound dry and kind of clinical? It’s not meant to be – there’s something special about romantic love, something almost magical, and mystical and that, too, is an important part of marriage. I’m not discounting pleasure or love here, I’m just saying there’s more to marriage than just love, at least from a spiritual perspective.
I guess what I’m doing here is trying to assuage my single self, to provide some comfort because it’s clear there’s no way I could be satisfied with any single guy who walked through my door, because whoever I marry needs to be someone that can ensure I am progressing mentally and spiritually. That marriage for me is not about having someone warm my bed or keep me from feeling lonely on a permanent basis. Love is important, but I’m looking for love plus something else.
I dream of a world where we all take a different view of marriage. A world where we revere love, but we also add something more to the mix. A world where we think about marriage in terms of aiding another in the form of the divine.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Last week, I wrote about how my mindset of late has been, “What can you do for me? What can I get from you?” I’ve been thinking about that more in depth and how that perspective causes all sorts of problems.
Philosopher Martin Buber wrote about this in his book I and Thou. I haven’t read his book, and only conducted a cursory search on the internet about it so I apologize if I get some facts wrong. From my understanding, Buber says we engage in the world in one of two ways: I/it and I/thou.
In the I/it relationship, we collect data, analyze it, classify it, and theorize about it. The object is viewed as a thing to be used or put to some purpose. This makes sense when we encounter something like a hammer, “What can I do with this? What do I need it for?” It also makes sense when we’re conducting research, or any time when detachment is necessary.
In the I/thou relationship, we engage with the encountered object in its entirety, not in pieces. The I/thou relationship asks us to make ourselves available to another, to understand them, to share with them, to have a dialogue. In essence, to see the other as a human rather than an object.
The I/it relationship is extremely problematic when that’s the only way we engage with others. I see the I/it dynamic reflected in Bill Cosby, who admitted to buying drugs in order to have sex with women. Duuuuude. That is the quintessential I/it relationship. Cosby didn’t think of these women as human beings, but rather as objects that existed for his pleasure. It didn’t matter whether these women wanted to have sex with him, he was going to have sex with them anyway. That is messed up. This is what is meant by the objectification of women. Our rape culture turns women into “its,” thought of as a collection of parts as opposed to people.
Objectification is not relegated to women only, by the way, men are seen as objects too. So are kids, animals, etc. What happened here? Why do we think only of our own selfish needs and not of other people? I can’t answer that question, but I think Buber has a point when he suggests we start viewing other people as “thou” instead of “it.” I know for me, I try to be open and present in all my encounters and not think to myself, “What can I get from you?” When I turn people into objects, I often get called out on it, like when I approached a mail carrier and launched into my question without first saying, “Hello.” He kept saying, “Hello,” until I understood he wanted me to say, “Hello,” back. Nobody likes to be treated as a machine, even if you only have a quick question for them.
Why am I harping on this and why am I bringing it up in a blog about spirituality? For one, I am deeply disturbed by our tendency to view each other as toys to play with and then cast aside. For another, I know when I view all beings – not only people – as “thous,” as entities worthy and deserving of love and respect, I open myself up to moments of transcendence, which Buber also mentions. When I have a reverence for everything, the world shimmers. Not to mention, I start thinking of how I may be of service, which is the key ingredient for a blissful life, according to my spiritual teacher.
I dream of a world where we start viewing each other as human beings, not objects. A world where we practice care, attention, love, and respect when we’re interacting with others. A world where we change our mindset and treat each other with dignity. A world where we move from seeing each other as hammers to humans.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I want to be as comfortable as possible. Give me air-conditioning and memory-foam mattress toppers and fast internet. I want my surroundings to be as cushy as I can make them. After I’ve worked so hard to make my life comfortable, at the very end of the day, if I have any energy left over, then I might think about other people. This is not good.
There’s nothing wrong with taking care of myself, with putting myself first, because if I don’t no one else will, but striving for a cushy life means I don’t tolerate discomfort at my expense. And it takes more and more for me to feel comfortable. Like the princess and the pea who slept on a hundred mattresses and could feel the pea stuck between the bottom two. This focus on me has made me a little self-centered. My mindset of late has been, “What can you do for me? What can I get from you?”
Friends, this is no way to live and does not lead to any sort of fulfillment. My spiritual teacher says the formula for bliss is service minus information. I have been decidedly low on service and high on information, so of course I’m not feeling bliss. Some people have a disdain for information, calling it useless, but that’s not true. Information is only useless if it’s not applied. Information is like fruit in a bowl. The fruit is only good if I eat it. Right now, instead of using all the fruit in my bowl, it’s going to waste.
Service is the key to keeping my fruit from rotting. There’s a different mindset around true service. I serve others because it’s fun and it’s free, not because I get any benefit, although that’s a nice perk. When I serve others out of a sense of obligation or because I “should,” it’s no longer service and instead a recipe for resentment. Service starts with a shift in mentality from “me, me, me,” to “we, we, we.” And when I shift my perspective, opportunities to serve present themselves, from giving someone a ride to the airport, to holding the door open for someone, to starting an orphanage.
Service often gets relegated to that one weekend of the month volunteering for so-and-so, but I’m finding it’s important to make service a part of my daily life. I’m such an extreme person that I think service has to be a grand affair. It doesn’t. Service starts in the mind, and that means thinking of others. My challenge right now is to serve myself and to serve others. I have a tendency to be “all or nothing,” so I need to not overextend myself too much. A little bit of stress leads to growth; a lot of stress leads to illness and injury. A cushy life is great and all, but what is it costing me? Maybe my life needs to be a little less cushy and a lot more service-oriented. After all, bliss feels a lot better than comfort.
I dream of a world where we serve each other. A world where life is a little less “me, me, me” and more “we, we, we.” A world where instead of striving for a cushy life, we strive for a blissful one.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.