Because the universe always communicates with us, this week I've been receiving messages about healing my childhood stuff and really taking the time to set the course for who I want to be and where I want to go.
A friend posted on facebook the following video by Meg Jay on how 30 is not the new 20:
I love this video because it names what I've felt instinctually to be true: that our 20s set the course for the rest of our lives. They're like a plane just starting its ascent — it's so much easier to make a few adjustments at the beginning to ensure we end up in Bali than when we're just about to land in Bangladesh.
Even if you, personally, are not in your 20s, I'm sure you know someone who is who would benefit from the guidance Meg is imparting. There's this idea in the U.S. that somehow our 20s are trivial, that they're the time to wait tables in Buenos Aires and fall in love with all the wrong people because somehow it "doesn't count."
I love Meg's retort to that: there's a difference between exploration and procrastination. I agree wholeheartedly. To bring this back to me, what I sense about this time period is my person is being formed. My adult person. I know that what I'm doing now is determining how I will live and who I will spend time with. I'm building my identity capital by doing things that are important to me and I am picking my family. Even though I'm not married, I'm picking who I'll be in relation with, who I'll be an auntie to, who will be a part of my community.
I'm having some trouble articulating myself tonight because I'm quite tired, but her talk fires me up because it emphasizes to me there's no such thing as "later." What we do now defines our future. Her video emphasizes how important our 20s are and they're a point of power and change. I don't know how many times I've heard people say, "I wish I knew _____ when I was in my 20s." Let's make sure we don't have to say that again and let's make sure the 20-somethings in our lives hear such wisdom.
I dream of a world where we share the wisdom we know. A world where we realize the point of power is always in the now. A world where we make the most of all the time we have. A world where we embrace where we are yet make adjustments as needed.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
This blogpost has been written subliminally probably a thousand times. The notion is one of my life's guiding principles, so after watching a television episode about this very subject, I decided it was high time I write a proper post.
One of the characters on the T.V. show said, "What if the universe doesn't send us signs? What if we're just seeing what we want to see? Maybe the universe has better things to do than send us signs." I can understand why this character would say that. Heck, I've said it myself, but primarily when things didn't turn out the way I wanted or expected them too.
It's been a hard lesson for me to learn, that the universe is still communicating with me, when I don't get what I want. A few years ago I feel head over heels in love with a man who did not return my affections. I was crushed for many reasons, but the biggest was that I had received so many freaking signs and messages about this dude. I started to question everything, whether the universe really did communicate with me, whether I made the whole thing up, whether I only saw what I wanted to.
A picture I took in Washington, D.C. You would think this photo was staged but it wasn't! The guy on the left really was pointing in the same direction as the sign of his own accord!
About a week ago, I wrote a poem for the first time in years. Through this poem I came to realize all the signs and messages I received about this guy were necessary and true. Because of my heartbreak I got sober, started living in reality, and have been able to heal parts of myself that desperately needed healing. And because the universe is always communicating with us, I came across the most perfect Rumi quote days after writing that poem:
“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”
Every time I find the perfect quote, run into a friend unexpectedly, see animals repeatedly in unusual places, etc. it's the universe communicating with me. And to be honest, I know when something is an authentic sign and when I'm trying to force it. A true sign will have a resonance in my heart. A true sign will give me the warm fuzzies. And a true sign will often appear in threes. It has been said there is a rule about threes and I find it to be true with signs as well.
I bring this all up because I think there's a belief we're separate from the world. That "the universe" is outside of us. That we're operating in different circles and why would the universe concern itself with the petty goings on of a mere person? The answer is: we're not separate. We are all cosmic stardust. We are the universe and the universe is us. So of course the universe is happy to play a part in our romantic lives because romantic love is one of the ways in which we experience the divine.
Rumi has another poem:
"The minute I heard my first love story,
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.
Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.
They're in each other all along.”
My interpretation of that poem is that the love we seek is already within us and sometimes we require another person to act as a mirror (or maybe a shovel) to bring it out of us. That exquisite feeling though, that love, is the universe in my opinion. Why wouldn't the universe want to remind us of deep, abiding, unconditional love? To remind us what we're working toward? And if we're not separate from the universe, doesn't it make complete sense the external world would be a reflection of our interior one? So when we ask a question it will be answered?
I dream of a world where we pay attention to signs and messages. A world where we understand there are benevolent energies that want to help us, that are happy to communicate with us. A world where we tune in and see how the world is speaking to us.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
I think I've written an iteration of this blogpost a thousand times, but I have to write what's true for me and this week it's been all about how the universe knows what I need even before I do sometimes.
I posted this on facebook a few days ago so many of you have already read this, but when I was in Washington, D.C. a few months ago somebody gave me a magnet. My reaction was, "Great. Like I need any more stuff." However, I kept it because I couldn't bring myself to throw it away.
When I typed “being taken care of” into google images this is what I found. It was too quirky to pass up.
On Tuesday, I moved into my sublet in Berkeley. It's a really cute apartment, but the guy I'm renting from is very minimalistic. There's no cheese grater, cookie sheet, hell, he didn't even leave me any pens. As I unpacked, I came across my magnet and I stuck it up on the bare refrigerator. As soon as the magnet touched the surface a wave of feeling swept over me. I choked up because I realized the magnet was given to me months in advance for this very moment when I would need it. To know the universe loves and supports me, in ways I don't even fathom yet, really touched me. To see that I'm being taken care of in even such a small way turned on the water works.
I love this story because I can extrapolate this small event for the bigger stuff. As I said, I'm subletting, so that means I still have to find a permanent place to live. (And permanent in this case means at least a year.) I have some anxiety about it because what I want seems nigh impossible: affordable, spacious, and in a good location? Most people would say I'd be lucky to have two of those things. To see how the universe is taking care of me in a very real way gives me hope that my beautiful apartment will also manifest. And it gives me hope I'll be taken care of in ways I can't even predict yet.
I dream of a world where we know we're all taken care of. A world where we know all of our needs will always be met even if the setup has to happen in advance. A world where we rest easy, joyous and free because we know the universe will always provide for us if we ask.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
Last night I found out the place I'm subletting starting May 1st is near a dangerous place in Berkeley, replete with drugs, violence, and desperation. As you can imagine, I flipped out. I started contemplating how I could get out of the sublet — perhaps subletting my sublet, if you will. Anxiety had me in its grips all day today as I couldn't stop feeling afraid. In my mind, the danger I could potentially experience was a given, practically a guarantee: "You're going to live near a dicey spot so of course you can expect some bad stuff to go down."
Tonight during my meditation my spiritual teacher came to me in a vision and said, "You could be in the most dangerous place in the world and still be safe." I didn't want to share that tonight, would have preferred to write about how ignorance is NOT bliss, but this issue of safety felt more important.
I feel really safe when I’m in child’s pose.
How often do we cruise through neighborhoods expecting bad things to happen to us? How often do we stay away from places because they're "not safe?" What if safety is not merely an external affair and instead included an internal element as well? What is our safety was not dependent on the outside world alone and was more about our internal world?
I'm not saying to put yourself in front of a firing range and assume you'll escape unscathed because you "feel safe," but maybe there's a relationship with the idea, "When it's your time to go, it's your time to go." Perhaps safety is like that too; when something "bad" is supposed to happen, it will. And maybe I can be safe in the most dangerous of places because there's the divine element I'm not factoring in. I've heard of many stories were people were in dangerous situations and called on angels, Jesus, their guru, etc. and the attackers became dazed and walked away. In fact, that happened to my own brother.
Perhaps instead of assuming I'll be raped, murdered, or mugged because I'm living next to a sketchy park, I can embrace the idea I'm safe anywhere and everywhere because my safety is dependent on owning my power, being in an assertive state, and calling in my divine help as needed. I don't know what I'll do about my sublet situation, but I'd love to really feel I can be safe in dangerous situations, and I have that wish for others.
I dream of a world where we all feel safe all of the time. A world where we trust we'll be taken care of. A world where we ask for divine intervention and then receive in. A world where we feel safe even in the midst of danger.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
For the past week I've had the experience God (or whatever) is doing for me what I can't do for myself. I signed up for a motorcycle safety and training course to learn how to properly operate a scooter. The driving portion lasts for two full days — you drive around for five hours in a parking lot learning how to swerve, brake quickly, etc. As I've mentioned, I'm still recuperating healthwise. I physically cannot handle as much as I once could. Last Saturday, the first day of the course, I was physically wrecked from all the stress ("Would I make it on time? Would I crash? Would I like it?). My adrenals were pulsating, my body was shaking, and I had no idea how I would handle another full day of riding.
This is what I mean by a scooter. Can’t you see me riding around on one of these?
So the next day, Sunday, I trudged to the BART station, ready to push through my exhaustion even though what I really wanted to do was rest. God, however, did for me what I couldn't do for myself. The train was delayed and then it went out service meaning there was no way I could make it to my course on time. Because it's a course that builds on itself, we are not allowed to be late. I called the site manager and he said I could ride standby the next Sunday, and because the delay was not my fault, they wouldn't charge me anything. Huzzah! My needs getting taken care of!
The rest of the week continued in much the same way: yesterday my friend picked up my luggage for me in her car so I wouldn't have to transport it myself, and today I was also able to rest. When I went to the motorcycle course to ride standby today, I didn't make it in because everyone who signed up for the course showed up, meaning I have to try again next week. At first I was upset about this, but as the day progressed I realized it was a blessing because I'm thoroughly exhausted from wandering around like a gypsy without a caravan. In the past three nights I've slept in three different places, so you know, I'm not exactly sitting still.
It's important for me to hold onto the idea God is doing for me what I can't do for myself because I'm operating on big-time faith right now. I'm a gypsy without a caravan because I still haven't found a place to rent, much less sublet. It's not as if I'm not trying — because I am, I'm practically living on Craigslist — but it's a two-way street. People have to get back to me; there has to be some reciprocity. I have to trust the universe knows what I need and want. Knows how to take care of me, and that my needs will continue to be provided for.
This is a lesson I have to take with me as I move forward in life because reaching for my dreams requires a whole lot of faith. Not settling for anything means I have to live with some uncertainty. In order to achieve the life I've always wanted I have to imbibe the lesson that God is doing for me what I can't do for myself and that all of my needs will always be met. I believe it's Gabrielle Bernstein who says, "If you expect miracles you will receive them." I'm ready for my miracle.
I dream of a world where we realize sometimes the universe does for us what we can't do for ourselves. A world where we know all of our needs will always be met even if at first it doesn't seem that way. A world where we trust in divine guidance. A world where we expect miracles and then receive them.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
Every morning for the past month or so, upon awakening I put my hand on my heart and say, "I love how sensitive you are because that means you are better able to accept and receive divine messages." Lately what that means for me is feeling my intuition in a tangible way. In the past, my intuition would be a thought, but now it's a thought accompanied by a physical sensation.
The other day I traversed the Bay into San Francisco. On my return home I had options for where I would change trains: Civic Center, Powell, Montgomery, or Embarcadero. As my train pulled into Powell St. station I had the thought, "I should get off here to catch my train," and then my body chimed in by feeling warm and tingly. I was practically excited by the idea of transferring at Powell St. In an impulsive move (because previously I had decided to transfer at Embarcadero, the more "sensible" thing to do), I jumped off the train and walked to my next platform. Lo and behold, within 30 seconds the exact train I needed arrived.
This little girl is tuning in. You can just tell. And, er, copyright is bloggysarah.
Doreen Virtue often says our bodies are our best divining tools — if we feel something in the body that's an intuitional message. It's certainly true for me — the more I've been taking care of my body the more strongly my body speaks to me. I bring this up because I think many of us spend time divorcing our bodies from our minds. When there's a decision to make — big or small — we employ our rational minds, ask a lot of people for advice, and then make our decision. The truth is we already know what to do. We're already receiving the message.
Intuition is often painted as the opposite of logic. In my experience that's false. Intuition encompasses logic plus other factors that I can't see. It seems to me intuition is more logical than logic because it transcends the rational mind. Intuition includes rationality but also acts like a bird soaring in the sky, offering a much broader perspective.
I need that broader perspective because from where I'm sitting things are, er, a little bleak. I don't know where I'm living after Thursday. I'm unclear what's going on with my finances and if I'll be able to afford to live by myself. I'm thinking about buying scooter (like a Vespa) but I don't know if I'd enjoy it or if it's a good decision. If I employed my rational mind I'd be a wreck, full of fear and anxiety. It's important for me to sink into my body and use my intuition because I know I'll be OK. I know I'll find a place to live. I know all of my needs will always be met. I have to stay close to my intuition and keep feeling what's going on in my body in order to maintain my sanity and to sift through all these decisions. My intuition is working for the small things so I have to trust it will work for the big ones too.
I dream of a world where we pay attention to our intuition. A world where we understand our bodies are our divining rods so it's important to take care of them. A world where we trust what we feel. A world where we give in to those intuitional impulses even when they seem illogical because in truth they're probably more logical than logic.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
In journalism we have a saying, "content is king." It means good content sells newspapers, boosts page views, and garners subscribers. While I agree "content is king," I think the biggest king of all is compassion. The word "compassion" comes from Middle English via the Latin word compati to sympathize, or com- + pati to bear, suffer. In my mind that means to bear together, to understand where another person is coming from.
Lately, I find compassion is so important because it gives me peace and serenity. When I can postulate why somebody is acting the way they are, I am better able to forgive them, to let whatever it is go. I don't stay angry or resentful; instead I'm able to glide through life like water running off a duck's back — that stuff slides right off. For someone who spent much of her life not at peace, this is a big deal. It's a relief to not keep an emotional scorecard, to fume over how people "should" behave.
Even the Buddha says to fill your mind with compassion.
For instance, last night my taxi driver was laughably bad. He kept mixing up his numbers and directions. "Did the GPS say to turn left on 56th st?" "No," I replied, "65th." "Left or right?" "Left." He wanted to turn down Telegraph when the GPS clearly said Shattuck. (Oh, and yes, those are California street names because I'm back in California!) When we pulled up to my rental, he told me there was a $5 extra fee for crossing the bridge. I'm pretty sure that was a scam but I paid it anyway. I'm not angry at the guy for his possible machinations because if dude is so desperate and fearful about money, how can I possibly be angry at him? Don't get me wrong, I'm going to call the cab company and talk to them about it, but continuing to feel angry about it accomplishes nothing.
Having compassion means I can deal with it and let it go. I'm letting that stuff go! I don't need any more emotional baggage, thankyouverymuch — I have plenty to deal with already. One of the absolute best ways to take the wind out of my sails and help me to forgive, to find compassion for other people, is asking, "Do I remember other people (myself included) are emotionally ill and frequently wrong?" Because they are and I am. Ain't nobody escaping through life unscathed. We are all warriors on this spiritual journey. And let me tell you, the more I forgive and have compassion for other people, the more I have it for myself. The more I'm able to let myself off the hook when I do something dumb or put my foot in my mouth. And ladies and gentlemen, that is a miracle.
I dream of a world where we all have compassion for ourselves and each other. A world where we let go of the things that bother us. A world where we understand where people are coming from. A world where we realize we're all in this together doing the best we can.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
I am a fire sign. Not just astrologically (I'm a Sagittarius), but also my ayurvedic dosha. I want to do all the time. Resting is the complete antithesis of my natural tendencies but it has become clear to me in recent months resting is of the utmost importance.
My latest interest is growing my self-love tree, which means loving me on an even deeper level. Christine Arylo, the author of Madly in Love with ME, advises every morning asking, "What do I need today?" or "What do I need to receive today?" Every day for months now the answer has been "rest." She also advises conducting an energy check-in to gauge how full your energy tank is. My energy level today is a -30. Christine says don't give of yourself unless your energy tank is at 75-100. Whoops.
I need to be like the butterfly and cocoon.
I say "whoops" like it's an accident I'm so depleted, but it's not. I've pushed myself so hard to do everything, anything. As soon as my energy tank gets even a little full I empty it completely. Guys, this is not sustainable. My temporary relocation to Washington, D.C. was supposed to be an act of radical self-care, and it was, but I need more than a little time out; I need a full-on hibernation. Actually, I need a cocooning.
When I was in Europe I kept seeing butterflies everywhere. Not live ones, decals. On my hotel door, on the window. Yesterday I saw one on a girl's dress. I think the universe is constantly communicating with us, so of course I looked up what butterflies meant in shamanism. One of the most obvious is transformation. I want to be transformed. I want to be full of energy. I want to break free of all the mental prisons I've constructed for myself. I want liberation from the darkness and I want almost everything about my life to change, so of course the butterfly is showing up. Like the butterfly, I want my magnificence to shine brightly. I want to flit from place to place, soar high in the sky, and dance with other butterflies. However, in order to become a butterfly I need to cocoon.
I need to shore up my energy, allow myself time to rest, to say no to things that drain me. I need to focus on myself so that I can become a butterfly. So I can help other people. So I can be of service. So I can live the bright and exciting life I've always dreamed of. It's incredibly difficult for me to cocoon, to withdraw my energy from the world, to concentrate on me and only me for a change. It feels wrong and selfish and uncomfortable. If I don't do this, however, I'm going to remain a caterpillar and I don't want to remain one.
I'm writing this blogpost because I'm sure there are other people out there like me who run themselves ragged, who are burnt out on doing. Listen, you and I are important. We deserve to rest because we are not machines (and even machines aren't running all the time). We deserve to receive as much as we give. We deserve to take time out. Sometimes we need to cocoon so we can serve the world in an even bigger way.
I dream of a world where we all take time out to rest when we need it. A world where we balance giving and receiving. A world where we love ourselves so much we treat ourselves with care. A world where we know in order to turn into a butterfly we have to go into a cocoon.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
When I was in college I took a music appreciation class, which was held in a large auditorium, affording me the ability to easily overhear other people's conversations. One of the women, Caroline, caught my attention because her life sounded so magical. She relayed a story to a friend of hers that while traveling in a foreign country she had a music lesson. She lost the slip of paper with her teacher's address, had no way of contacting him, but took it on faith she would get to her music lesson without any trouble.
On her train ride over, the train lurched and Caroline stumbled into a seat where, guess who, her music teacher was sitting. The friend listening to this story shook her head and said, "Only you, Caroline."
Cool stuff seems to happen on trains.
When I heard this story I bristled with unknown-to-me envy. My first reaction was, "Pbbbt. I can't believe how flakey she sounds. She lost the piece of paper with her teacher's address and didn't have his telephone number?" But underneath that I was insanely envious because I wanted that. I wanted to be able to live a life of total and complete faith that I would be taken care of. That I didn't have to be in control all the time. That I could let go and not worry.
On Friday I spoke to my lifecoach about all this and he said, "Will you make the commitment to trust your higher power?" I hemmed and hawed, and said, "Can I commit to working on trusting my higher power?" He wasn't having it. "You can commit to whatever you want but you know and I both know what you really want is to be able to trust like that. And the only way to do so is to just trust." That is so not what I wanted to hear. I wanted to play it safe, to commit to wading in the pond instead of diving into it. But you know what? I'm tired.
I'm tired of fretting about my life and where I'll live. I'm tired of trying to always control all the outcomes of my life. I'm tired of constantly being "in charge." I'm tired of trying all the time. And I'm tired of living in fear of what's next. I want what I perceive Caroline has — faith and trust in the universe that everything will be OK without the need to worry all the time. I want to feel at ease in my life because I trust in a power greater than myself. I want to let go of my rigid control.
I don't really know how to do that but I'm pretty sure it starts with saying, "I commit to trusting my higher power." I'm pretty sure it starts with at least having the willingness to let some other force take care of it. I'm also sure it's important for me to write about this publicly so I can't take it back. So I can be held accountable. So when I'm flipping out I can remind myself or you can remind me that I committed to trusting the force that guides the stars.
I dream of a world where we all let go of our reins. A world where we take inspired action but we understand we don't need to micromanage our lives. A world where we trust everything will be OK in the end; and if it's not OK, it's not the end. A world where we say, "I can't handle this anymore. You take over."
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
I didn't intend to write this today because I'm on vacation; however I'm stuck at the Zurich airport waiting for my flight, which thus far has been delayed by four hours due to a mechanical failure. I said something last night at a group meditation I realized I feel strongly about: "I'm learning 'being in the flow' isn't always a pleasant and easy experience; sometimes it's like kicking upstream in a river — you're facing a different direction, but you're still in the flow."
This is a picture *I* took of a place I visited in Switzerland. I thought it would be cooler than a picture of a river. . .
I used to think "being in the flow" meant ease, grace, synchronistic experiences, and something akin to driving in the city hitting nothing but green lights. This topic is on my mind right now especially because a year ago I traveled to Italy and had the most grace-filled experience of my life to date. I saw Michelangelo's David for free because I "happened" to drop by on International Women's Day and women didn't have to pay admission. I caught all my trains on time, met up with friends I didn't even know where in Italy, and understood when people spoke to me in Italian or German (I was in Austria the week prior). I was connected to everyone and everything. It was magnificent and an experience I treasure.
This year, however has been a different story. Partly I think I've had a more difficult time traveling because Mercury is in retrograde, meaning the mechanical failure my plane is experiencing now is more common. I keep comparing this year with last year, lamenting I'm not "in the flow." That this trip isn't magical and easy and smooth. When life isn't that way I think I'm to blame. That I'm not "aligning my will with the cosmic will." That I'm not thinking the "right" thoughts. That I'm not grateful enough. That I'm not meditating properly. That I've fallen out of divine favor. I say that's baloney.
Here's the thing — everything has still worked out. All of my needs have continued to be met. Yeah, I've experienced a ton of strife — I went to SIX stores to find a replacement battery for my cellphone, the Bern airport temporarily lost my luggage and found it within 10 minutes, etc. — but everything still came together in the end. In October I wrote about seeing through the eyes of love. Part of that process is seeing how I'm always in the flow. I can't get out of the flow because that implies I'm not alive. Life is flow because life is movement. Just because I moved four times last year, I'm currently a gypsy, and life has been extremely challenging, doesn't mean I'm not in the flow! All of these things have worked out in the end for my benefit. Everything has come together. All of the "bad" stuff has led to "good" stuff.
Just because life isn't full of rainbows and kittens doesn't mean it's wrong or needs to change. I am still being guided when I'm crying just as much as when I'm smiling. That's the point of faith and spirituality — acknowledging there's a divine presence at all times. Life won't always be easy, but it's not supposed to be. Just like in a physical river, there will be times the current is moving so fast you won't have to do any work. At others the river will be placid and you'll have to swim a bit. Sometimes you'll hit a rock or get tangled in weeds. Regardless of the circumstances, each situation is temporary, but you're still always being pulled in the river's current.
I dream of a world where we all realize we're in the flow all the time, whether our experience of life is easy or hard. A world where we understand everything works out in the end and sometimes a little patience is required at some intervals more than others. A world where we know everything happens for a reason in our best interest. A world where we're easier on ourselves regarding our challenges because we understand that's what it means to be alive. And to be alive is to be in the flow.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.