On Friday, I had a bit of a meltdown. I’d been harboring feelings of resentment toward someone in power who’s in my life. Let’s call her Marjorie. Whenever I saw Marjorie, I smiled and waved, but inside I seethed. When I asked myself why, I realized things were not how they appeared. What it came down to is I’ve been blowing things out of proportion because I’d been processing my grandparents’ baggage.
I’ve mentioned a few times my grandparents are Holocaust survivors. The repercussions of that manifest in many ways, but in this instance it meant feeling betrayed by someone in power. It meant feeling taken advantage of and as if my needs didn’t matter. That Marjorie’s needs were more important and all I could do is sit back and take the “abuse.” I believed it was in my best interest to “keep the peace” and “not rock the boat.” To go along with what Marjorie wanted because the alternative seemed unbearable, and yet, inside I felt anything but peace.
An impressive display of power if I’ve ever seen one.
So again, I asked myself why, and I realized I’d been taking things to an extreme level, feeling what my grandparents felt about power and authority and the abuse of it. My feelings were nowhere near on par with the reality of my situation.
After crying, I called up a friend and she reminded me I have a choice in the matter. I don’t have to automatically heal the intergenerational junk. I don’t have to ground my ancestors and break the karmic cycle. I have the power to choose. I have the power to say, “No.” I also realized I have the power to choose who’s in power. Let me explain.
People only have authority because I imbue them with it. People are only in power because I, you, we empower them. If we didn’t believe the president was in charge of the country, we wouldn’t listen to a word he said, nor would we enact anything he signed into law. We have agreed certain people are in power, but let us never forget where they get that power from: us.
It’s the same thing with Marjorie – she’s in power because I’m letting her be powerful. In truth, she’s a person just like I am. In truth, she’s flawed like me. In truth, she’s not the most powerful person in the world. If I continue to have issues with her I can go above her head. It may not be pretty, it may not be comfortable, but I have options, I have choices, and remembering that brings my power back.
I dream of a world where we remember we have the power to choose, to say yes or no. A world where we recognize there is no person who is more powerful than another. A world where we realize those who are authorities are authorized by us. A world where we recognize what our own power is and we employ it.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
At times it can be very easy for me to slip into old patterns – to focus on the negative instead of the positive. To lament what I don’t have instead of what I do. We all know gratitude is the key to happiness, but even gratitude can become something rote, something I roll off the tongue because of course I’m grateful for food to eat, a place to sleep, money in the bank, etc.
What’s been on my mind is holding close those moments that are so sweet they break my heart. Maybe it’s gratitude, but for me it’s deep gratitude, gratitude in the core of my being so pure tears spring to my eyes. A sweetness so subtle it cannot be expressed, only felt.
This weekend has been one of those times.
My dear friends who are like family were married on Friday. The ceremony was lovely, but what really got to me was the reception. Friends of the bride and groom performed songs for the happy couple, gave toasts, and generally expressed their love. In return, the bride and groom expressed their love for us, their community. To see how much support and love and appreciation we all have for one another was so sweet. I aspire to have the same thing – a great community that supports me and a wonderful romantic relationship.
Yesterday, the newly married couple had a picnic at a redwood park where we all caught up and socialized in a more casual manner. I made new connections and had more time to talk to the people I already knew. I lounged on the grass, ate delicious food, and walked through the woods. Just before I left, someone I’ve known for a few years gifted me with a CD because he felt inspired. It was a spontaneous act of friendship and I love those authentic moments of expression.
Last night, a friend had a birthday party, so in addition to more food, we sat around in candlelight singing kiirtans and connecting with one another in a heart space. I didn’t get home until about 1 a.m.
A taste of some of the kiirtan we sang last night. If you enjoy this, I recommend checking out Amitabhan’s website.
These moments, these times when I’m connecting deeply, when I feel loved, held, when my needs are getting met in unexpected ways, choke me up. Right now I have a lump in my throat. These are the moments that remind me life is sweet, it’s supposed to be fun, and joyful. I can get caught up in the rat race, focusing on how I need to make more money, or checking things off my to-do list and forget this, these moments, are what life is about: having so much sweetness it breaks my heart.
I dream of a world where we all experience untold sweetness. A world where life breaks our heart (in a good way). A world where we remember why we’re here. A world where we embrace all the love in our lives. A world where we live in harmony with ourselves and each other.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I am very lucky in that there are friends in my life who are committed to growth and healing. People who don’t take the world or personal problems at face value and are always digging deeper – people who encourage me to do the same.
One of my friends, who is a therapist, told me anxiety is like an octopus – it will attach to anything, but there’s “stuff” the octopus is sitting on. For me, I have intense anxiety when I hear noise late at night. I get SUPER anxious about sleeping because I do not want to be tired. I don’t want to be tired because I don’t want to be unproductive. And I don’t want to be unproductive because I don’t want to be unlovable.
Anxiety is like an octopus — it attaches to stuff but there’s more underneath.
Let me phrase that in another way. There is a part of me, a very young part of me, that believes only by doing something, giving something, achieving something, that I am lovable. Like there’s a love quotient and the more I do and accomplish the more loved I am. So of course being tired and unproductive makes me anxious! Of course I’ve taken my life to the extreme of being busy all the time.
Even typing this my inner child is scared because her whole world is shifting. A paradigm she’s been operating from for a loooong time is crumbling and she’s freaking out. Change can be scary y’all.
The truth is, I don’t think anyone loves me because of my accomplishments. I don’t think anyone says, “That Rebekah, I only like her for her writing.” If I flip it around, there’s certainly no one in my life who I love solely because they’re whip smart, or a good writer, or ambitious. Sure, I love those parts, but they’re not the only reason I love someone. Similarly, no one loves me only for what I can do either. To take it even further, no one will stop loving me if I’m unproductive, if I sit around all day and watch Netflix in my pajamas. No one will say, “I’m sorry, you’re not doing enough so I no longer love you.” Why say that to myself?
I bring this up because perhaps you have been struggling with anxiety and it’s not getting better. Perhaps it’s about something other than what it seems. I also share this because I think we have so many outdated ideas we’re not aware of. Things we think we need to do or achieve or accomplish or be before we’re lovable, before we “deserve” what we want. I’m here to whisper, “It’s not true.”
Louise Hay says, “Life’s problems can usually be boiled down to not loving and approving of the self.” At first I didn’t believe it because, “Of course I love myself! I say affirmations all the time!” but I didn’t realize my love had conditions. That I had to meet certain requirements before I gave myself the love I desired. What can you let go of today and what can you do to love yourself even more?
I dream of a world where we unconditionally love ourselves. A world where we understand we are worthy and deserving of love no matter what. A world where we let go that which no longer serves us. A world where we look deep within to find the healing we deserve.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I have a lot going on. But as my father says, “Rebekah, you always have a lot going on.” Touché Papa. Touché. What happens when I have a lot going on is my mind gets abuzz with all the what ifs. “What if I never get good sleep? What if I need to move again? What if I have a run in with my neighbor?” My mind whirls with possibilities and I contemplate how I’ll handle each one of them, or conversely, I worry what I’ll do in the future because I have no idea how I’ll handle them.
In a moment of clarity, it occurred to me it is not my responsibility to worry about the future. To contemplate all the possibilities, all the options, all the potentials. My mind cannot handle it, and besides, if I’ve been shown anything, it’s that my wildest dreams aren’t even close to what happens in reality (which is similar to the subtitle of my book). I mean, let’s take a look at the evidence. This time last year, I packed up my apartment, put my stuff into storage, and was en route to Tucson with no idea whether I would come back to California. Now, I’m living in a cottage in Oakland where I can see trees outside my windows. These are things that never entered my realm of possibility, but there you are.
Meditating, and even looking at pictures of meditation, helps me become present.
It’s important for me to stay present and in the moment because many of the things I worry about don’t even come to pass, and so I wasted all that time and energy and only accomplished feeling anxious and fearful. Guys, I’m so tired of feeling anxious and fearful. When I’m present, fear and anxiety do not exist because I recognize I am safe, I am alive, I have what I need, and all is well.
A part of this whole “being present” thing is trust. Trusting in my higher power, trusting in the universe, trusting that when I need to know something or do something, I will. When I’m present, I attach myself to a power greater than myself and let some other force work on the details. What I do instead is show up for my life and do what has been requested of me. In March, I made a public declaration of trust, and being present is an affirmation of that trust because it means I have let go of the possible outcomes I could conjure up, and instead allow limitless possibilities in my life, knowing all is well, all of my needs will always be met, and I will be guided to my next right action.
I dream of a world where we continue to be present. A world where we live in a place of peace and harmony. A world where we take guided action as need be but otherwise leave the rest up to the universe. A world where we trust in a force greater than us, and a world where we show up for our lives.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve blogged once a week for approximately five years. That’s . . . a lot of blogposts. I realize some of you have been reading “Another World is Probable” from the beginning, but quite a few of you haven’t. There are some gems in my archives that I want to highlight and even if you’ve read it before, I figure we can all use a reminder every now and again. I know I could. So, here in its entirety is a post from April 2010:
I used to believe I had to “conquer” my fears. I used to be of the mindset I had to squash doubt flat, or wrestle with my other issues until I won. That I had to assert my will and come out the victor. I realized a while ago that’s not the case at all.
In January I wrote a journal entry I’ve been meaning to share but haven’t yet:
Jan. 27, 2010
I realized tonight this fear is not mine, it doesn’t belong to me. I’ve been trying to take ownership of it. To claim it. To bust through it. To work around it. But it’s like a blind man getting caught tangled in a cloak. I’ve been trying to chew holes in it and rip it apart, but ultimately can’t get rid of it until I just take it off, recognizing it doesn’t belong to me. Because it doesn’t. There’s no use in trying to work with or tame fear – it can’t be tamed. Only released. It was never mine to begin with. It always belonged to God so I give it back to its rightful owner, where God can transmute it into love. That was never my responsibility. My only job was to let it go, to surrender.
I don’t know why this picture makes me think “transcendence” but it does.
While that particular journal entry was about fear I think it can apply to anything and everything. I don’t ever really “work through” my issues so much as release them. Some people would say to me, “Yes, but Rebekah, the only way to get rid of a fear like public speaking is to just go out and do it. Take a class and practice.” I would say let’s take a look at what’s really going on. What happens when we practice something like public speaking? We decide it’s not as scary as we thought. Because we’re doing what scares us, we realize it’s not so bad. We release the fear in our mind. So again, the point of power, the point of change, is in the mind, not the action.
Whenever I talk about surrender and release someone invariably says to me, “Yes but you still have to do stuff. You can’t just sit around.” Sometimes I think we confuse surrender and avoidance. Avoidance is fear-based. When I avoid something it’s because I’m afraid, I don’t want to do it, whatever. If I were to say, “I surrender my fear of public speaking,” and then refuse to speak in public whenever I’m given the opportunity, that’s not really surrendering the fear, is it? That’s avoidance.
Surrender means to release, to let go, to no longer fight. When I surrender fear and doubt I release them to love. I give them to infinite love. I no longer wrestle with them using my ego, or the willful part of me. The part of me that thinks I handle everything by myself, the part of me that thinks I am separate from everyone and everything else. Essentially the part of me that disconnects from all-pervasive love.
When I surrender, when I release, when I let go, I transcend all those issues. I transcend my little “I” and my little “I” issues and instead remember all is love. Instead I remember I am love incarnate.
I dream of a world where instead of “working” on our issues we just let them go. A world where we remember we are divine, magnificent beings, and our true nature is love. A world where we see ourselves for who we really are – embodiments of love. A world where we transcend all that is unlike love and live in a place of peace and harmony.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
On Saturday after I woke up, I asked myself, “What do you need today? What do you need to receive today?” My answers were “rest” (a perennial response) and “grace.” That seemed interesting because how does one receive grace and what is grace exactly?
For me, grace means synchronistic events and is one way the universe expresses love for me. Sure enough, I experienced a few synchronicities yesterday. The first was catching an earlier BART train than I anticipated despite my bus showing up several minutes late – a miracle for any public transportation rider. Also, I wanted to buy some protein powder but didn’t want to spend a fortune. Wouldn’t you know it? The grocery store was having 20 percent off ALL protein powders! Then, when I got home, I spotted an email in my inbox about someone giving away their printer inkjet cartridge for free, the exact type of ink I need, and in fact, am running low on.
This picture was too good for me to pass up.
Even thinking about all the events right now puts a smile on my face.
Why am I blogging about receiving grace? Why am I mentioning all of these events? I think a key component of receiving grace is being open to help. So often I believe I can handle life all on my own – I have all the answers, I already know what to do, where to go, etc. I shut myself off from possibilities, from creative solutions, and from divine help.
In my yoga and meditation group I’ve heard this quote (which I’m paraphrasing) about a bajillion times: “God’s grace is always raining down on your head, but if you’re carrying an umbrella of ego how will you feel it?” I’ve heard that quote (or something like it) so often it’s lost all meaning. The definition of the ego and how to remove it is perhaps a post for another time, but right now my personal process for getting drenched in the grace rain shower is to practice openness and willingness. What I didn’t mention is money is tight for me right now due to unexpected expenses, and so I need as much help as I can get, which means these episodes of grace are all the more sweet.
Because I’m not trying to be the director/stage manager/lighting designer/sound engineer/costume designer/props mistress of my life, the universe gets to fulfill those roles for me. I’ve created space for the universe (or whatever you want to call it) to come in. I’ve removed the umbrella of ego from my head at least temporarily because I’m willing to receive grace, I’m willing to do things differently, and I’m willing to admit I don’t know everything.
I dream of a world where we all experience untold grace. A world where we have the willingness to ask for help. A world where do our part and let the universe do its. A world where we allow ourselves to receive grace.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I suck at transitions, especially when I’m not the one gallivanting off on the adventure. When my world stays the same minus one aspect – a friend moving away, for instance – then it’s as if I’ve entered the “Twilight Zone.” Life is the same but different. It’s this piece that drives me crazy, the instability, the insecurity, the ground shifting beneath my feet because things are not what they once were.
Every goodbye carries with it a new hello.
I’m not sure I have anything inspiring to say except I keep hearing an expression ringing in my ears: “You have to let go of the old to make way for the new.” When things are good, when I like the old, I don’t want to make way for the new. But I also recognize there could be some really good things up ahead. I could become close to someone new and my life could be enriched. I could experience something amazing I otherwise wouldn’t have been open to. Life could be so beautiful it would break my heart.
I guess where I’m at is grieving the loss, saying goodbye to the old, but understanding the new could be fantastic. And because I believe in an invisible hand, a guiding force, I know it will be in my best interest.
Am I sad to say goodbye to old friends? Yes, I am, BUT distance doesn’t mean the friendship dies and really, who knows what’s next?
I dream of a world where we clear the old to make way for the new. A world where we grieve for the past yet welcome the future. A world where we live each moment feeling grateful for what we have because we understand it won’t last forever.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
There are some qualities about myself I do not like – namely insecurity and anxiety. Partly, I feel a lot of insecurity and anxiety due to my heightened sensitivity as my adrenal glands normalize, but the qualities are still within me. I’ve been struggling with these two for a long time as you’ll have noticed from reading this blog. My affirmations of late have been, “I release my need for insecurity and anxiety, I release all resistance,” but there hasn’t been any traction. The affirmation hasn’t held.
Friday morning I decided to take a new approach. The Queen of Self-Love, Christine Arylo, recommends loving the things about yourself you do not like. I’ve done this with great success – every morning I say, “Rebekah, I love how sensitive you are because that means you’re better able to accept and receive divine messages.” So I tried conducting the practice on insecurity and anxiety: “Rebekah, I love how insecure you are because that means you’re interested in connecting. I love how anxious you are because that means you care deeply.”
I love this! Fish with love!
My battered, war-torn soul sighed in relief from no longer having to engage in conflict. “Really? Do you mean it?” I asked. “I really do,” I replied.
A very wise monk, who unfortunately passed away in November, used to say that all anything wants is infinite, unconditional love. That means my insecurity just wants to be loved, my anxiety just wants to be loved, my fear just wants to be loved, etc. All innate characteristics want infinite love. However, I also know, “As you think, so you become,” which is why affirmations are so powerful. Do I really want to keep affirming my insecurity and anxiety? Do I really want to keep these things around?
No. I do not. So what I’m circling back to is releasing them, however, this time I release them out of love. And I think that makes all the difference. Instead of saying, “Ugh, I hate feeling so insecure and anxious. Go away and leave me alone!” I’m saying, “I love you for what you’ve done for me, but now I recognize I don’t need you anymore. I release you and let you go.” I don’t need anxiety to care about people, places, and things, nor do I need insecurity to tell me I crave connection.
Maybe nobody cares about this except for me, but it feels pretty big. To love something I used to hate and then still let it go. To love all parts of myself but recognize some of them do not serve me. To release the bad and hold onto the good. To be open to new ways of being. To love myself so much I say goodbye to the old and welcome the new. I’m walking into a new paradigm and I dream of that for others as well.
I dream of a world where we release the traits that aren’t working for us with love. A world where we love ourselves so much we know when it’s time to say goodbye to some of them. A world where we keep the lessons we’ve learned but discard the rest. A world where we’re open to transformation and then receive it.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
When I ride the bus it opens up my world and forces me to mix with people I might not otherwise. On Wednesday, I rode the bus and felt like crying hearing the stories around me – the snippets of people talking about being addicted to weed, the demeanor of the woman who looked ready to punch someone, the homeless people camping out at bus shelters. My heart broke a little because I care so much. I care so deeply. Yes, my sensitivity is probably over the top at the moment, but I can’t help that.
As tears started to leak from my eyes, a woman walked on the bus and sat in front of me. Her shirt said “love” down both the sleeves. In that moment I cried even harder because it struck me love is the container for all things. Even while I was crying, love was still there; in this case, literally. Love means it’s safe for me to cry, safe for me to be angry, safe for me to feel whatever I want. All of my emotions, all of my everything, really, are held in the container of love.
I know this is a trash can but there’s a heart on it. So love is literally acting as a container!
Often I think love is separate from icky emotions or things I cast judgment upon. I think there is love and then there is everything else. What I’m coming to realize, however, is that’s false. Love is not outside of all these things, love IS everything; it’s omnipresent.
Nothing escapes the purview of love, nothing is outside of love. There is a Sanskrit mantra I sing every day that translates as “love is all there is.” For the longest time I couldn’t wrap my head around that definition and preferred the longer version: “Everything is an expression of an infinite, loving consciousness.” But today I finally “get” it. Love holds everything, even war, disease, famine, and poverty.
This blogpost may not make sense to many of you, but I hope someone understands what I’m trying to say, which is, even when we think it’s not, love is there. In truth, this concept transcends language so to really understand what I mean, I ask that you take a second to feel what I’m saying.
I dream of a world where we feel love in all things. A world where we understand it’s safe to feel however we’re feeling because we’re being held by divine love. A world where we understand nothing is outside of love because love is all there is.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve wanted to write about this for a long time so I’m glad the opportunity finally presented itself. According to one theory, there are three relationship styles, also called attachment styles or systems. Usually, when we’re talking about attachment theory it’s in terms of parenting, i.e. how “attached” a child is to a parent. Since attachment theory was developed, researchers have started applying it to all relationships, not just parents and kids.
Here is a brief overview of the three kinds of attachment systems and how they play out:
In the strange situation [an experiment developed to study attachment styles], 12-month-old infants and their parents are brought to the laboratory and, systematically, separated from and reunited with one another. In the strange situation, most children (i.e., about 60%) behave in the way implied by Bowlby’s [the inventor of attachment theory] “normative” theory. They become upset when the parent leaves the room, but, when he or she returns, they actively seek the parent and are easily comforted by him or her. Children who exhibit this pattern of behavior are often called secure. Other children (about 20% or less) are ill-at-ease initially, and, upon separation, become extremely distressed. Importantly, when reunited with their parents, these children have a difficult time being soothed, and often exhibit conflicting behaviors that suggest they want to be comforted, but that they also want to “punish” the parent for leaving. These children are often called anxious-resistant. The third pattern of attachment … documented is called avoidant. Avoidant children (about 20%) don’t appear too distressed by the separation, and, upon reunion, actively avoid seeking contact with their parent, sometimes turning their attention to play objects on the laboratory floor. Source.
Like I said, this applies not only to kids, but to adults as well and comes out most prevalently in romantic relationships. For me, I’ve noticed my attachment system is at work in ALL of my relationships. (If you want to read more about this, and how your “bad luck” with romance could boil down to picking avoidants again and again, I highly recommend picking up Attached or checking out this article.)
How you feel internally is what you project externally and vice versa.
You may have already guessed, but I have anxious attachment. What that means in practical terms is if a friend is late and they haven’t told me they’re running late, I immediately start to feel anxious and envision them lying in a ditch somewhere. I start to fret and am unable to calm down until I hear from said friend.
I’m not nearly as anxious as I used to be because I’ve done a LOT of work on myself to become more secure, but sometimes my anxiety gets the best of me, like this week.
A friend of mine dropped off the face of the Earth for two weeks and at first I was fine with it, but then the thought came into my head that something could be seriously wrong. I am so embarrassed I acted out of my anxiety and sent him an email expressing my concern. Through the process, however, I’ve realized the external is internal.
My anxiety is not really about another person, I’m projecting because I feel insecure. I (unknowingly) flash back to childhood and being rejected or abandoned by my peers. I relive feeling anxious and insecure about getting my basic needs met. Hearing back from the person I’m worried about only temporarily fixes the problem, much like putting a band aid on a wound that requires stitches. The best thing I can do is reframe my past and heal myself.
Instead of replaying how certain people would be my friend and then all of a sudden stop talking to me, I can remember “rejection is God’s protection,” so perhaps those are people I wouldn’t want to be in my life anyway. And I can remind myself of how many friends from my childhood I do have. I have a busload and many of them live in the Bay Area. Sure, I only saw them one or two weeks out of the year at retreats, but the bond is there. Instead of focusing on the few people I never heard back from, I can feel gratitude for so many people who are still in my life. Most importantly, I can create security for myself by affirming I will never abandon myself and that I will always be around to take care of me.
I know this post is quite long, but the point I want to drive home is sometimes we think external things will fix us – if only so-and-so would call we’ll feel better – but we do not control other people and trying to do so only makes us feel crazy. The inner peace we seek only comes about from doing internal work, which is where the real healing is anyway.
I dream of a world where we recognize our external feelings are often projections of our internal ones. A world where we understand the real healing comes from reshaping our internal thoughts and beliefs. A world where we confront our traumas and then release them. A world where we understand to fix our external world we often have to work on our internal one.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.