For the audio version of this post, scroll to the bottom.
My recovery mentor often says to me, “Change happens on higher power’s timeline, and when it happens, it happens fast, so be ready.” Today I’m marveling at how true that is, particularly because I’m in a place that has seasons. In the Bay Area, there are two seasons: the dry season and the rainy season. In Missouri, there is a proper spring, summer, fall, and winter.
Last Wednesday, I was in shorts and t-shirt, dipping my legs in the lake. The very next day we had a thunderstorm replete with rain and lightning and then it was cold. Like, pull-out-my-fall- jacket cold. Like, turn-the-heat-on cold. It went from summer to fall in the course of a day. I realize comparing change to the seasons is not so valid anymore, considering that today the temperature is back up to the 70s, but change happens quickly in life too.
I do have to say, it’s really nice to see leaves like this again.
I read an interview about the recently departed Joan Rivers who I’d always unfairly dismissed as a mean-spirited comedian. There was a point in her life when she was blacklisted from The Tonight Show, her husband Edgar had killed himself, and her career was floundering. She seriously contemplated suicide. She said, “What saved me was my dog jumped into my lap. I thought, ‘No one will take care of him.’… I had the gun in my lap, and the dog sat on the gun. I lecture on suicide because things turn around. I tell people this is a horrible, awful, dark moment, but it will change and you must know it’s going to change and you push forward. I look back and think, ‘Life is great, life goes on. It changes.'”
As we all know, Joan went on to have a successful career and a rich life, but there was a point when she was thinking about ending it all. I also reflect on the turn of events for friends of mine. They’re getting married this winter and they didn’t even know each other a year ago! They met in the winter of 2013, got engaged in June 2014, and now they’re getting married.
Even in my own life I’ve seen how change happens quickly. One day I was settling into my new abode and within an hour a sweet situation turned sour and I started making plans to live elsewhere.
I often think change happens painfully slowly, that it’s gradual – and that is certainly true – but sometimes it also happens quickly, and we have no idea it’s coming even 10 minutes prior. At this point in my life when things are so up in the air, when I have no idea where I’ll be next, what will happen next, what lies before me, it’s heartening to remember my life won’t always look this way. That change happens on the universe’s timeline, and when it happens it can happen fast so I need to be ready.
I dream of a world where we have hope for the future. A world where we realize life can change for the better in an instant. A world where we understand our troubles will pass and we’ll be glad we stuck around to see it.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
For the audio version of this post, scroll to the bottom.
This whole week the concept of bit by bit, of doing things in small chunks, has been on my mind because I’m again in the midst of packing, so I’m reposting this blog from about a year ago.
I’m sitting in my cottage surrounded by boxes — although not as many as last week! — and what I want is to unpack everything now. I want to be settled now. I want all the organizing to be done now. I want my big payday right this minute, not little by little.
I quite often forget this concept of bit by bit, baby steps, slow and steady wins the race, etc. because I’m attracted by the big and bold, by pomp and circumstance. I love hearing about seemingly overnight success and Cinderella stories because, well, I’m impatient.
Bit by bit adds up to something grand.
Bit by bit is important for me to remember because more often it’s the case someone is wealthy because they know how to save — they sock away money a little bit here, a little bit there. More often it’s the case an actor has been auditioning for years before they become an “overnight” success. Truly it’s the baby steps, the hard work along the way that builds up to something great. Rome wasn’t built in a day and nor will my cottage be unpacked in a day. I want to be a best-selling author this minute, but when I focus on the big goal I forget about selling one book at a time to one person at a time.
For someone like me who’s melodramatic and makes big drastic changes quite frequently, doing something bit by bit is crucial. When I look at all the things that have stuck with me — my meditation practice, my yoga practice, my recovery from addiction — it’s because I did things little by little. They’ve become permanent fixtures in my life because I took action every single day — not because I made one grand sweeping gesture. Sure, the grand gestures are fun and exciting, but it’s the little actions everyday that have made the most lasting impact.
I don’t know that anyone else will get anything out of this blogpost, but I guess I’m saying for today I realize there is value in the small things. In doing things one day at a time, bit by bit. Yes, I’m impressed by vast canyons, but that’s because I’m seeing the end results — many canyons are created by water wearing down rock little by little, day by day. Bit by bit adds up to something beautiful and grand, and right now is the time for me to practice that, knowing eventually I’ll see the results I’m looking for.
I dream of a world where we value doing something bit by bit. A world where we understand constant and steady pressure adds up to something amazing. A world where we have patience with ourselves and each other. A world where we cherish our baby steps.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." — Albert Einstein
I used to equate miracles with walking on water and feeding thousands of people with one loaf of bread, so, nearly impossible feats that don't happen every day. As I've gotten older, I've taken Einstein's approach instead because it's more fun and allows me to retain a sense of awe.
The miracle I've been confronted with a LOT this year is how much I've changed as a person. How the things I used to do I no longer do. How I'm not nearly as controlling, fearful, obsessive, repressed, or quick to judge as I was before. I'm more accepting of everyone and everything and I'm trying to live out the serenity prayer on a daily basis. This to me is a miracle.
I find flowers growing in concrete to be pretty miraculous. Photo copyright by Taylor Evans.
It's a miracle to realize I can transform as a person. That the behavior I don't like I can choose to change. I know I've written about this topic before, but that's because it never ceases to amaze me. On Saturday, I read aloud an inventory of my life — all the things I'm resentful about, all my fears, all my romantic blunders — the whole kit and caboodle, and was able to see I am doing things differently!
Why is this such a big deal to me? I think it's because with the miracle mindset there is an inherent belief anything is possible. The miracle mindset allows room for growth, it allows the universe to come in and shift things. It allows some spaciousness into the equation. It allows for magic. It allows for anything and everything. This is so important to me because as someone who genuinely believes we can create a better world, seeing the growth in my own life shows me it's possible for other people to grow too. It shows me it's absolutely possible we'll live in a world where everyone has all their needs met. A world where we check corruption and greed. A world where we live in harmony with each other and our environment.
The miracle mindset, seeing everything as a miracle, means I allow for miracles to happen and retain a sense of optimism, hope, awe, and magic. So the fact I can write this to you and people from all over the world can read it is a miracle. The fact I had a video call with my dear friend in the Philippines is a miracle. The fact the things that used to plague me no longer do is a miracle. And I wish for other people to witness miracles in their own lives.
I dream of a world where people adopt the miracle mindset. A world where people view everything as a miracle. A world where people understand we don’t have to accept the status quo. A world where people are excited about change and possibility. A world where we allow for miracles.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
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.
As always, I only speak for myself, so while the title suggests I know the "real meaning of the Saturn return," I can only relay my own experience. Disclaimers yo — they're important.
For those of you unfamiliar with the Saturn return, it's when the planet reappears in the position it was in at the time of your birth, which takes roughly 27-31 years. Most people speak of it with groans and derision because it's the butt-kicking time of life. It brings about big changes and strips us of all things that no longer work. There is also speculation the Saturn return had a hand in the 27 club (aka, musicians who died at 27). Ultimately, the first Saturn return is about entering adulthood, which has been the case for me.
This is the planet responsible for so much.
It may sound silly to say that because I graduated from college years ago. I've been in the working world for nearly seven years supporting myself. Haven't I already been an adult? I thought so too. What I didn't realize is Saturn's job is to shine a light on all the dark spots of my past so I don't have to hide from the shadows. It's Saturn's job to give me perspective on my past and help me let it go so I can fully reside in my power as an adult woman.
When Saturn started to make its presence known in my astrological chart in October, I noticed all this stuff with my inner child began to surface. I realized my fears and insecurities came from my childhood. I noticed there was a lot from my childhood I had to heal.
On Friday I saw a physical therapist who specializes in integrative manual therapy, which basically means she manipulates my organs to reset them to normal. She reflected back to me I've been carrying around a ton of fear and anxiety; it's been living in my body since I was a kid. The sweet part is she gave me a process for letting it go. She suggested I meditate on a mudra (a hand gesture) that's already been a very important part of my life. This hand gesture has A LOT of significance for me, so to have someone else instruct I use it myself is the equivalent of admiring the way your favorite musician plays her guitar solo only to realize you can play her guitar solo too. (Please forgive the analogy, I am VERY tired.)
I'm so grateful for my Saturn return because it's unearthing all this buried crap I didn't know I had. It's excavating the rubble from my life so I can move forward rubble free. I also find it interesting this process of growing up, of coming into my own, is taking place in Washington, D.C., the city where I first started to transition from adolescence to adulthood. It's incredibly sweet that this last period where I'm cementing my adult self should also take place in Washington, D.C. I'm laying my demons to rest and trying to wipe my slate clean. I have no idea whether this post will mean anything to the rest of you, but I wanted to share my experience. It's shown me my life is full of bookends and even when I'm undergoing hardship and change it's for my own good.
I dream of a world where we see the good in our lives. A world where we understand deep change is for our benefit. A world where we realize we're given the opportunity to let go of all things that do not serve us. A world where we release the burdens of our past and welcome the brilliance of our future.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
This post has been a year in the making so it’s fitting it will be my last post of 2012 (probably). “Living in reality” has been the theme for me this year. There is so much I wanted to believe, so much I hoped for, that hasn’t come true. I’ve spent most of this year feeling heartbroken and sad because my fantasies came crashing down around my head. But that’s a good thing.
It’s a good thing because instead of being in denial, or waiting for the day xyz will happen, I’m addressing what’s here, now. Fantasy has been a huge part of my life. I used to get lost in my head dreaming about the future. It was my coping mechanism as a child and I needed it to survive. But now I’m an adult and it no longer serves me to fantasize because it means I miss out on all the good stuff that’s here before me. Living in reality means I’m no longer comparing what’s in front of me with the dream in my mind.
You might be perplexed reading this when my blog is called “Another World is Probable.” Isn’t my whole blog one big idealistic fantasy? No, it is not. My dreams for a new world may be somewhat of a fantasy but I see seeds of those dreams in the everyday world. There exists unconditional love and heroism in the here and now. I think of Victoria Soto who died while saving her students from a shooter. I think of the principal of Sandy Hook elementary school who also died trying to wrest the gun from the shooter. This is real life.
It’s tempting for sensitive souls and spiritualists to say, “Let’s pray about this and visualize a better world,” and have that be the end of it. I agree, let’s pray and visualize a better world, but let’s also do something. Let’s also invest in mental health care, let’s notice who’s around us and what they’re doing. Let’s listen to each other and take action when others are suffering. We can’t keep living in a fantasy about “the good ole days” or dreaming of the future when something a psychic predicted will come to pass. It doesn’t matter what life was like 50 years ago, or what it will be like 50 years ahead. What matters is reality. I’m not saying we should all start miring in the darkness, lamenting how awful things are. I’m suggesting we take stock of what’s before us and keep hoping for the best.
I would much rather acknowledge the good things in this world than fantasizing about something better. There are so many beautiful things in reality. People sacrificing their lives for someone else. Neighbors helping each other in time of need. Little children who squeal with delight when they see their favorite cup.
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| When I wrote about “children who squeal with delight when they see their favorite cup” I was thinking of this picture. So stinking cute! |
I’m not sure what I’m driving at except that I see the wisdom of accepting things as they are while also trying to change the things we can. I think maybe Howard Zinn sums it up best:
“An optimist isn’t necessarily a blithe, slightly sappy whistler in the dark of our time. To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness. What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places — and there are so many — where people behaved magnificently, this gives us energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction.”
But I think first and foremost this comes about by living in reality and seeing what’s here, now.
I dream of a world where we live in reality while also striving for something better. A world where we see the beauty of what is. A world where we celebrate our triumphs and lament our failures. A world where we live in the here and now while also seeing infinite possibilities for the future.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Last week I decided very unexpectedly to leave San Francisco for a few months, much to my dismay. I mentioned in my last post I have maladaptive stress syndrome, which if I'm not careful could lead to chronic fatigue. It became very clear to me I need to take drastic measures to take care of myself. This is INCREDIBLY difficult because I don't typically prioritize self-care (obviously) and now I'm required to make a major change in order to heal myself.
Part of the issue for me about this is I don't want to stand out. I don't want to be the only person at the potluck who is eating spaghetti sauce without the spaghetti because I'm allergic to gluten. I don't want to be the person who is dancing at half-speed because going too fast feels draining. I don’t want to be the person who has to take a nap at 4 p.m. everyday but I am. I did all those things this weekend.
At this point I'm realizing it doesn't matter if I look stupid or people notice me or judge me. I have to take care of my physical body and make that a top priority. I can no longer afford to worry about other people because I have to worry about me. Sometimes you have to go against the flow in order to do that. And sometimes you have to do things you don't like in order to take care of yourself.
Screenshot from Salmon Fishing in the Yemen. Sometimes you have to go against the flow.
As much as I want to stay in San Francisco right now I cannot. I need a quiet place to rest and relax. San Francisco is many things but it's not quiet or relaxing. Yes, I have so many friends and friends who are like family here. In fact, I'm writing this right now from the living room of beloved friends. I have to say goodbye to them for a while in order to take care of myself. I'm lucky in that I'm going to Washington, D.C. (where I'm going to stay) I've lived before so I already have an established community. I've wanted to go back and visit so this seems like as good a time as any.
It's sad for me to say goodbye but I know I have to for my self-care because sometimes radical measures are required.
I dream of a world where we prioritize our wellness. A world where we do what it requires to take care of ourselves. A world where we understand sometimes we have to do things we don't like, but in the end it's always worth it.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
Tonight is my last night in California for a month. I know that doesn’t seem like much but considering I don't have a place of my own to come back to, it is. I'm saying goodbye to a state I've called home for the past 4.5 years. It feels like more than a vacation because I'm really and truly blowing in the wind. When someone asks for me an address I have to think about it — do I give them the address of the place I'm housesitting? Do I use my parents' address? Do I use my former apartment because that's the last place I lived?
This evening I sat in my friends' backyard in San Jose all by my lonesome. They went out of town unexpectedly so I again find myself housesitting. Watching the sun turn the mountains in the distance burnt sienna, my heart broke a little. I don't know where I'm living in November and quite possibly it won't be here.
A close approximation of what I saw tonight.
Yes, I'm being a bit maudlin, but this is what it means to say goodbye. To close a chapter and start something new. My friend went to a financial conference recently and one of her takeaways was, "Don't forget you're asking a whole lot when you ask someone to change." I think the same is true of ourselves as well. Even though I grow and change ceaselessly, that doesn't mean it gets any easier.
Here is what I know. It's difficult to say goodbye, even for a short while, but it's so we can welcome in something better. I realize I'm talking specifically about moving out of California and becoming a gypsy, but I think the same applies to anything we say goodbye to: a romantic partner, a job, a lifestyle, an addiction. Painful feelings will come up, we may want to say, "I changed my mind! I'll keep things the way they are!" but we cannot. One of the things I've learned in the past year is life can become so uncomfortable it forces us to change. I never had any intention of reliving my Just a Girl from Kansas experience but here I am, housesitting and living out of my suitcase once again.
Do I have anything profound to say? No. Mostly I'm sad. Sad to be leaving behind a state I love and a community I love for the great unknown. But I'm doing it anyway. Because I know I need to. I know I need this time to rest and rejuvenate. To start writing again. To get my body in working order. To heal parts of myself that are crying out for attention. And that means I have to say goodbye to California for a while.
I dream of a world where we say goodbye to things that no longer serve us. A world where we change because we know it's in our best interest. A world where we embrace the big question marks and trust we're doing the right thing even if it makes us sad. A world where we know we have to say goodbye for a while in order to say hello to something new.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
This week I texted a friend, “I will eat you out of house and home!” Did you know that idiom originates from William Shakespeare? Did you also know Shakespeare is credited with creating approximately 1,700 words? SEVENTEEN HUNDRED WORDS people. I bring this up because so very often I feel like a peon, a grain of sand on a beach, a speck in time, and I start to question what one person can really accomplish. I don’t have any superpowers, nor am I likely to cure cancer, but then I remember one person can accomplish a lot.
This man is pretty epic if you think about it.
I am inspired by hearing Shakespeare created 1,700 words that are still in use today. The dude died almost 400 years ago and yet we still remember him. That’s some power right there. He was one person, and yet he had a lasting effect on the world around him. He was a person just like me and he absolutely made a difference. And he’s not alone. Albert Einstein was another great man who revolutionized physics. One guy, huge impact.
So often I think I have to do something HUGE in order to leave an impression on the world, but in truth, each of these fellows followed their hearts and let the chips fall where they would. I doubt either of them foresaw people would still be talking about them long after their deaths. It’s amazing the sort of power one person can have on the world. One person can and does make a difference.
One of my favorite quotes comes from Mother Teresa: “We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop.”
If you’ve ever taken a dropper bottle and put drops of water on a penny you know there comes a certain tipping point where just one more drop breaks the surface tension and the water spills over the surface. We don’t know if we are that drop. We don’t know what ripple our actions will create. We have no idea how powerful we actually are, and that’s what amazes me today. To realize even though I am a small human being I am also powerful beyond measure. That I could also change the world and so can you.
I dream of a world where we realize we are powerful beings who can leave an imprint on the world around us. A world where we realize all of our actions means something and all of our actions add up. A world where we understand as Mother Teresa also says, “I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples.”
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I really REALLY did not think I would be writing about this. But here I am. “This” being the account of the man in Florida who ate another man’s face. And the person in Maryland who ate someone else’s heart and brain. I’m so distressed by these news stories I will not be linking to them because I cannot even glance at the ensuing headlines without cringing. And that’s a good thing.
I’ve been thinking being such a sensitive person is a plight, a curse. Something I wish would go away because it makes living in a world where there is torture and massacre of children extremely painful. A few people have said to me it’s great I’m so sensitive, that the world needs more sensitive people. If everyone felt the way I did – shocked and horrified by violence, homelessness, poverty, etc. – more would be done about it. If enough people were sensitive, and enough people woke up to what is happening in the world, injustices could not continue.
I'm not sure why this picture says "sensitive" to me but it does.
I think all the atrocities in the world are a wake-up call. A chance for us to say, “This is unacceptable and must be changed/stopped.” Sometimes it takes extreme acts to get our attention. Humanity is obviously crying out for help. We sensitive souls are being called to action. Instead of sitting idly by, covering our ears, wishing it would stop, we’re being asked to do something. I’m not sure what that “something” is because it depends on the person. For me, the lesson is to love even more.
Many of you know this, but my Sanskrit name Radha means personification of love. These days I’m being asked to really live that name. To love everyone, not just the people it’s easy to love. I’m being asked to love those who are violent, those who mentally imbalanced, those who narcissistic, and those who are mean. This is no easy task because my first reaction is to distance myself. But the more I distance myself the more I allow horrible things to happen. It’s as if I’m saying on an energetic level, “I am not a part of you. I am separate and thus don’t need to engage with you.” Those times are over.
When I hear the expression, “The meek shall inherit the Earth,” my interpretation is the sensitive souls will inherit the Earth. Not because we ran for cover when the going got tough, but because we were so sensitive to what was going on around us we had to put a stop to it. We had to stand up and say, “No.” So as much as I hate being sensitive at times, I also know it’s a good thing. Because it’s people like me who are going to bring about change. We must because the alternative is unbearable.
I dream of a world where we acknowledge sensitivity is a gift, something to be celebrated. A world where the sensitive people embrace their nature, understanding it’s what makes them alive. A world where the sensitive people band together and say, “No more. We are changing things.”
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.