I debated whether or not to even write this post because it’s so personal but all day I’ve been getting messages about the importance of authenticity and sharing our personal experiences in an effort to help others, so here goes. . .
I am CRAZY envious of a blogger I know. I’m talking the super ugly, “I want what she has” envy. She has a crazy popular blog that’s been featured in women’s magazines and gets something like 100 comments a day, she has a loving husband, she’s published a book, AND she’s appeared on national television for it. Can we just establish here I so want those things? (Except maybe the 100 comments a day on my blog, seeing as how there isn’t really much for people to comment on. . .) I really don’t want to admit how envious I am. ESPECIALLY not to other people! I’m not proud of how I feel, but that doesn’t change the fact the feeling exists. I wish it did, but it doesn’t.
In some ways I think envy is a good thing. It reminds me what I fiercely want out of life. It reminds me what my goals are. But it’s important to remember we are all human and this fellow blogger has her trials and tribulations. She has her own things she’s going through and I probably wouldn’t want to trade my woes for hers. Going a bit deeper into it, really what envy is about is escape. I want to escape into someone else’s life because it looks better than mine. The truth is even if someone else’s life is better than mine it doesn’t mean I can do anything about it. We can’t trade places. Also, maybe all those things I envy in this woman are on their way to me. Maybe this time next year all those things will be true for me. I don’t have to rush anything. I could talk about the danger of comparing myself to other people but I’ve covered that ground already. Instead I’d like to say I live in an abundant and infinite universe. This woman having all of those things doesn’t mean I can’t have them too. If anything, it shows me I can as well.
What I’d really like to say is, “Rebekah, you can have all of those things. Nothing is stopping you.” I don’t need to be envious of this blogger because the only obstacle in my way is me. So instead of continuing to feel envy I say, “Thank you for coming up. For showing me what my heart’s real desires are. Thank you for reminding me what my priorities are and what I’d like to focus on. Now that I’ve acknowledged you, please go away.” Because I can also go on national television. Because I can also have a loving marriage. Because I can also have everything I’ve ever wanted.
I don’t know if I’ve illustrated much progress here but I guess I’m saying every emotion (even the ones I don’t like) serve a purpose. They all deserve to be recognized and looked at. I am a human being with a range of emotions and envy is one of them. But I get to choose whether I continue to feel it. I choose not.
I dream of a world where we all allow ourselves to express our feelings. A world where we give all our emotions a moment in the sun – including the ones we’d rather not face. A world where we recognize every emotion serves a purpose and it’s up to us to suss it out.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This is going to sound very strange but a part of me would like to be invisible. No really. I don’t mean in a superpower kind of way so I can catch bad guys. I mean in a very real, don’t-notice-me-pretend-I’m-not-here kind of way. I don’t want you to pay attention to me or criticize me or cause me any harm. I’d rather slink against the walls and escape your gaze. Which, if you’ve met me in real life, you know that’s not how I act AT ALL. When I walk into a room I don’t hug the sides, I march up to the very front and center of everything because I want to be in the thick of things! And um, I blog about myself every week . . . So where does that desire to be invisible come from? I honestly don’t know. Call it a past life or a carryover from childhood because it certainly doesn’t fit who I am presently.
This evening I cried listening to a podcast where the woman said she wanted to be invisible because it struck a chord with me. I hadn’t realized that was simmering below the surface, but it was. Most of you don’t know this, but for the past three weeks my knee has been swollen – so much so it hurts when I walk. And it didn’t swell up because I fell but rather of its own accord. Metaphysically speaking, knees (and joints in general) have to do with moving forward in life. I’ve been resisting moving forward because I’m scared. I’m scared of what will happen when I do. I’m scared of what will happen when people see the real me. When they find out all my secrets and all the crazy lurking beneath my surface. Because that’s exactly what my book is all about. My real life, warts and all.
Ever since we raised $5,000 via kickstarter to get the book published a part of me has wanted to scrap the whole thing. Refund everybody their money, close the blinds, turn off the lights, and call it a night. Forget the whole thing even exists. Obviously I’ve ignored that impulse because many of you saw a proposed cover on facebook. And because I pushed forward without dealing with the emotional component, my knee swelled up in response.
On Friday I read a blogpost by Lee-Anne Peters called, “Come Out of Hiding” and boy did it resonant. The gist of her post is that it’s safe to come out of hiding. It’s safe to share our gifts with the world. It’s safe to be our true selves and let our lights shine. It’s safe for me to express myself and show up in the world.
I’ve been scared of the reception my book will receive, both positive and negative. But the truth is I have a gift and it’s like that saying, “What you are is God’s gift to you. What you make of yourself if your gift to God.” Yeah.
Tonight I acknowledged the part of myself that’s been scared instead of pretending like it didn’t exist. And I apologized. I said, “I’m so sorry for whatever it was that made you feel like you need to be invisible. I’m sorry for all those things that happened to you.” Even typing that tears are pricking my eyes. And after crying I recognize the truth and the reality of where I am. That I am blessed to live in a world where it’s safe to express myself. Where even if everyone thinks I’m crazy there won’t be repercussions for it. (And in fact, there are probably people who feel the same way, and what with the internet I can connect with them.) The truth of the matter is I live in the United States where freedom of speech is revered. No one is going to break down my door and handcuff me for publishing a memoir about moving to San Francisco with no job, no place to live, and only $2,000 in the bank. They just aren’t. It’s safe for me to be seen these days.
I dream of a world where we all feel safe to share our gifts with each other. A world where we know our gifts are welcomed with open arms. A world where we know it’s so much better to be seen, accepted, and embraced in the naked light of truth than to skulk around in the dark of invisibility. A world where we allow ourselves to be who we are. A world where we allow ourselves to shine like the bright lights we are.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The title for this post is courtesy of Bryan Franklin who gave a TED talk titled “The most dangerous question on Earth.” He spent the majority of his talk on the qualities of a good entrepreneur and one of them is the ability to hold paradox. For instance, we matter but at the same time we don’t matter. He said, “You can touch a life so deeply and so profoundly that the impact of your loss would never be forgotten … the ripple effect of your impact is unfathomable. And also the magnitude of your insignificance is equally unfathomable … you are barely dust.” Holding the paradox means giving equal weight and importance to both, letting neither diminish the other. Holding the paradox means not taking sides but rather allowing both.
The paradox I’m holding is happiness and sadness. Until yesterday I was in Washington, D.C. for a wedding, which I decided to turn into a long weekend trip. I love Washington, D.C. I went to school there, I became an adult there, my favorite places on Earth are there. Yet I live in San Francisco and I love San Francisco. I love the weather, I love my friends, I love my apartment, my life, my community. I felt (and feel) sad about leaving the district because not only are my favorite places there but also some dear friends. My heart is heavy because I don’t know when I’ll see them again. Washington, D.C. is a special place for me because I don’t have one or two good friends who live there, I have about a dozen. It’s hard to leave such a large and deep pocket of love and kinship. I was sad to leave but happy to come home. A part of me wants to pick a side, to say I’m either sad to leave D.C. or happy to come back to San Francisco. But that’s not true. I honestly feel both.
What I’m learning is my feelings are complex and multifaceted so that means I can feel both. That means I can hold the paradox. I don’t have to pick a side. I don’t have to move back to D.C. because I miss living there. I don’t have to abandon my life in S.F. I don’t have to do anything really except feel what I’m feeling. Allow myself to experience both happiness and sadness, yes, even at the same time.
My life these days is no longer black and white, it’s shades of gray. I am an unlimited being so I don’t have to restrict myself to taking sides in the paradox. I don’t have to say either or anymore. Perhaps that’s what it means to be an adult, recognizing there are numerous possibilities and life isn’t as simple as I thought it was. I can feel both. I can love multiple people, places, and things and nothing has to replace anything else. I can have multiple favorites. I wish everything was cut and dry because life would be so much simpler that way but in truth, it’s not. So that’s what I’m encouraging. Embracing life as it is, which is full of paradox.
I dream of a world where contradicting ideas may coexist. A world where we allow for all possibilities and situations. A world where we allow ourselves to feel disparate emotions. A world where we accept our complexity and our depth. A world where we know one thing does not have to preclude the other.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Where I am today is complete allowance of all that is. Not all of you will understand this blogpost, and that’s ok. It’s written for those of you it resonates with.
A few weeks ago I told my mom it’s a miracle I’m feeling my feelings. She said, “Rebekah, you’re human, so of course you’re feeling your feelings.” No. Not true. I have used everything to escape feeling my emotions – food, television, books, crushes – anything besides feeling them. The fact I’m now feeling my emotions really is a miracle. On Friday night I felt sad and lonely and a little crazy and instead of reaching for something to distract me, I just felt my feelings. I wanted to use affirmations, put a positive spin on all of it, but ultimately I allowed what was.
I am completely allowing myself to feel my feelings: good, bad, and ugly. I am no longer forcing myself to feel better or trying to hide parts of myself for fear others will judge me. Not just my feelings, but all parts of me. On Friday I even *gasp* went to the pool without shaving. It was perhaps the first time I walked into the pool completely unselfconscious. It was perhaps the first time in my life I allowed myself to be who I am in public without fear, without hesitation. Most of the time I’m only my true self when I feel it’s safe to do so: in the comfort of my home, with friends, at spiritual retreats. Friday was the first time it didn’t matter to me if I was being judged.
This all comes at a great time because I finished editing my book and I sent it to a professional copyeditor. I’m freaking out because that means someone else is going to read it! That probably sounds really funny because, um, when you write books you generally want people to read them. And furthermore I blog regularly about my personal life so why the commotion?
The commotion is Just a Girl From Kansas is not my blog. It’s much more personal. People are going to read my journal entries. They’re going to read my most intimate thoughts and feelings. They’re going to experience all the highs and lows I went through when I first moved to California and everything after that. It’s not a light and fluffy account. It’s my real life in its most raw form.
I’m scared because after this there is no more hiding. There is no pretending I’m a “normal” girl with a “perfect” life. All my crazy will be on display and how will people react? Except I’m not sure it matters all that much, because like I wrote a few weeks ago, those that mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind. What it really comes down to is me. Allowing myself to be all that I am, allowing myself to be who I am without limits. Allowing all expressions of myself, allowing all parts of myself to exist and know they’re all ok. No one part is better than the other. Even my unpleasant feelings are acceptable. Even my sometimes-hairy legs are acceptable. I can allow all of it.
I dream of a world where we allow ourselves to be all that we can be. A world where we give ourselves permission to do so. A world where we show up for our lives and let things be what they are. A world where we love ourselves unconditionally, even the parts we don’t necessarily want the world to see. A world where we live in complete allowance knowing self-love is what matters the most.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I know this is kind of gross, so don’t say I didn’t warn you, but my body’s response to pretty much everything is to throw up. Too tired? Throw up! Fearful? Throw up! Anxious? Throw up! Overstimulated? Throw up! You get the picture. (Some of you have even been witness to this phenomenon.) Why am I bringing this up? Because normally I try to suppress the nausea. Normally I try to do everything in my power to keep from vomiting – lying down, running my hand under cold water, EFT, affirmations, falun dafa. I try to do everything except let myself express what my body wants to express.
On Sunday I felt the urge to throw up. For the first time ever I said, “Go ahead. If you have to throw up, you have to throw up. It’s not pleasant but you’ve done it before.” That one act changed everything. That one act uncapped a lid I’ve been clamping shut for a really long time.
Since then I’ve been feeling all the emotions I’ve been suppressing. All the anger, all the sadness, all the despair. I’ve been feeling the anxiety, the worry, the everything I wasn’t allowing myself to feel. By giving myself permission to throw up, thereby permission to no longer hold back, I unleashed a flood of emotions. It has been quite a purge. I felt anger, sadness and despair all in the course of a few hours. Then all my anxiety. Then all my guilt for things I perceived I did wrong during the year. Holy guacamole batman, it’s been intense.
Normally I hold back and suppress my emotions. I wait to cry until I’m alone. I hold my anger in until I get to my apartment. I keep it bottled up until I perceive it’s safe to feel. And you know? Sometimes I don’t even allow the full expression of the emotion. Lately I’ve been using new tools so I don’t even have to feel those feelings. “I feel bad! I want to feel better! Time to do some EFT!” or affirmations or listen to Abraham Hicks. Anything but feel dem feelings.
I’m almost embarrassed to admit this, but the other reason I’ve been suppressing anger/sadness/despair, is according to Abraham Hicks, when you feel those things you’re the furthest from getting what you want. When you feel hopeful that’s when you’re really close to getting what you desire. So what have I been doing? I’ve been working myself into a hopeful state! I want what I want immediately so let’s do everything in my power to Make. It. Happen! No really. Even though despair came up I would say to myself, “No, no, no, it’s not true. You’ll get what you want. Focus on how good it will feel when it arrives.” People, the depths of my controlling nature, I tell you. Looking at it in another way, my level of determination is astounding. I mean seriously. I’ll do absolutely anything to get what I want.
Anyway, those feelings were not getting expressed, but they were still there. Emotions are a form of energy and energy wants to move. It’s the nature of energy. By burying them I caused myself to want to throw up because they have to get out somehow.
You might be thinking, “That’s great Rebekah. Thanks for sharing. Why do I care?” Maybe you don’t, or won’t. All I can tell you is I’d much rather feel pissed off in the moment rather than months later when it comes out in a tsunami. Because seriously? The emotional purge I’ve gone through this week? It’s left me feeling strung out like a heroin junkie.
Lastly, even as I felt the lowest, deepest, darkest pits of emotion, I also felt relief. Relief that I could finally let go of everything I’d been holding onto. Relief I no longer had to suppress my feelings for fear of how others would react, or how the Universe would respond. Relief because I felt wiped clean of all the emotional gunk clogging up my system. Relief because I was free.
I dream of a world where we all feel our feelings as they come up, regardless of whether the setting is “appropriate” or not. I dream of world where we know it’s safe to feel the entire spectrum of our emotions. A world where we let the emotional energy move and flow. A world where we allow ourselves to experience the relief that comes from expression.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
It’s funny how often the same issues crop up. Except not really because as I’ve written about before, they continue to crop up until we’ve mastered them. I’m mastering how to let something in and then let it go!
Ever since I wrote that post last week about realizing my higher power loves me unconditionally and nothing in my life is a punishment, I’ve been sick. (I’m completely unsurprised because when I have a big breakthrough on the mental plane it carries over to the physical plane.) What happens to me when I’m sick is the trifecta of ego-centered feelings kick in: fear, doubt and worry. There’s something about being sick that brings out my irrational side. What I tried to do is say to myself, “It’s ok Rebekah, you’re sick, you’re irrational, you know this isn’t the truth, you’ll feel better in the morning.” Except that didn’t help. In the moment I still felt what I was feeling.
Since logic didn’t work, then I tried to fight fear, doubt and worry. I tried saying affirmations, doing EFT, talking to people. That didn’t really work other because like those whac-a-moles, fear, doubt and worry just kept cropping up! Every time I tried to subjugate fear, doubt and worry, they just came up somewhere else. Like when I was washing dishes.
So logic wasn’t helpful. EFT and affirmations didn’t work. Time to use my tried and true method of pretending! Pretending fear, doubt and worry didn’t exist. Pretending everything was ok. Pretending this was all a byproduct of illness.
Except that didn’t work either.
Pretending (also called avoidance) only allows fear, doubt and worry to fester. You don’t treat an infection by pretending you don’t have it. You have to expose it! So of course, pretending and avoiding I felt something other than what I did only created more strife within me. I think about an article I wrote a million years ago as a journalism student. I interviewed a bunch of women on life after rape and one of them spoke specifically about avoidance. She said you can keep shoving those feelings down like stuffing books in a backpack, but eventually one day the backpack is going to get too heavy and it’s going to break. Yeah.
So what do you do with those feelings? You invite them in for tea and crumpets. More than a month ago I wrote about my pinched nerve and sitting with that physical pain. Because sometimes all you can do is let the pain pass. I realize the same is true with fear, doubt and worry. Instead of resisting either actively or by pretending I don’t feel them, I’m letting them in. “Come in! Come in! Have some tea!” because only then can I release them. How can you release a bird if it’s not in your possession first? You can’t. I can’t let go of fear, doubt and worry until I let them in. And when I let them in I can release them and transcend them and turn them over with love.
I dream of a world where we all understand our feelings cannot harm us. A world where we let in all the things we feel so we can let them go. A world where we remain unattached to all feelings and instead let ourselves be. A world where we turn over control and instead experience each moment fully. A world where we let everything in to then let it go.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I had/have a pinched nerve. On Tuesday I woke up with a searing pain. My neck and upper shoulder hurt so much I almost cried as I walked to work – the strain of my backpack was too much to bear. I am very much the type of person when something doesn’t feel good I want to be out of it as quickly as possible. What can I do to make this better? What can I do to make this go away?
On Tuesday I kept taking breaks to stretch my neck and shoulders. I ducked into an empty conference room and started doing every yoga pose I could think of to target that area. At the time it helped, but the pain got progressively worse as the day wore on. I couldn’t even hold my head properly it hurt so much at the end of the day. I went to a Passover Seder that night and had to have the person on my right pour me some grape juice because I couldn’t pick up the glass Knudsen’s bottle. I tried doing everything I could to feel better because I sure as heck didn’t want to feel the pain.
On Wednesday I saw my chiropractor and she (ironically) said to me sometimes it’s best to just sit with the pain and let it be what it is. Let the pain move through the body, to rest, and just to let it be. So I did and now I feel better (of course).
I feel like my reaction to my pinched nerve can also be applied to other things. To emotional pain or sorrow. If I’m feeling sad I don’t want to feel sad, I want to do EFT and affirmations to feel better right this minute. I want to get myself out of my funk as quickly as possible. What I’m learning though is in order to release that stuff, first I have to accept it. For instance, spraying dog poop with perfume doesn’t get rid of it – the perfume only masks the smell for a little while. I have to acknowledge my pain first before it can vacate the premises.
I think I like to brush past the non-happy places as quickly as possible because a part of me thinks I can’t bear the pain. It seems like too much. There’s a great quote I stumbled across last night I think fits in with this really well:
“Many of us spend our whole lives running from feeling with the mistaken belief that you cannot bear the pain. But you have already borne the pain. What you have not done is feel all you are beyond the pain.” – Saint Bartholomew
I don’t really have so much to say here except I’m finally letting myself sit with my emotions and physical discomforts. Instead of immediately reaching out for something to “make” me feel better I’m allowing myself to feel fully. To take it in so it can leave. Because it’s only when I fully acknowledge something that I can truly face it head on. It’s not until I say, “Yes, there is some poop on the carpet,” that I can clean it up.
I dream of a world where we are at peace just where we are, and we accept our good knowing all needs and desires will be fulfilled. I dream of a world where we allow ourselves to be, to feel, to accept. A world where we know it is safe to do so. A world where we allow states to move through us like clouds billowing in the sky. A world where we recognize we can handle anything our higher power throws at us. Because we can.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
When I was a little girl I was very shy and quiet. A bit of a wallflower. I didn’t talk to strangers, didn’t cross the street before the light turned green, didn’t ride a bike until I knew I wouldn’t fall off, and never, ever dove off cliffs into the water below. I was not a risk taker. Because I didn’t want to get hurt. Because I wanted to feel safe. I lived by the creed, “Better safe than sorry.” It took me a long time to build up the courage to do things that scared me. It took years before I felt comfortable jumping off the head of this stone lizard and onto the knotted rope swing:
As I got older, the more safe I felt, the more risks I took. I jumped off the head of the lizard. I dove into rivers, ventured into caves, talked to strangers. I built up to that point because I felt it was safe to do so.
Yesterday as I journaled about my topic du jour (doubt), I realized my grown-up mind is also trying to protect me. As a kid I kept myself safe by never taking risks, by sitting on the sidelines. As an adult I’m keeping myself safe by doubting things will come to pass. Because if they don’t happen then, well, I never thought they would anyway. It’s that adage, “If you don’t try, you’ll never fail.” There are so many places I could go from here, so many points I could make, but what I want to express is I am safe at all times. Am I any safer now when I jump off the stone lizard than I was at 6 years old? No. Is it any safer now for me to cross the street before the light turns green than when I was 3? No. The only difference is in my head. The only difference is my perception.
What I’m realizing is safety, just like happiness, comes from within. It’s not an external force. I am not safe as soon as X, Y, and Z happens (or doesn’t happen as the case may be). I am safe at all times, in all ways, in all situations. It is safe for me to plow ahead, to reach for my dreams, to put my heart on the line. It’s safe for me to believe my intuition and accept divine guidance. It’s safe for me to think I can accomplish what I set my mind to. It’s safe for me to get hurt. Safety is not the absence of pain or sorrow or failure because all those things will happen anyway. Safety is really and truly a perspective. It’s a feeling. And I get to choose how I feel.
So I thank doubt and fear and my good girl complex for doing their job, for helping me to feel safe, for facilitating that process. I thank doubt and fear and whatever else has brought me to where I am today but it’s time to let them go now. It’s time to say, “Goodbye old friends, you served your purpose well.” Instead I know everything is already within me. I can take risks, I can dive off cliffs, I can believe what I feel intuitively because I carry safety within me.
Dr. Alan Zimmerman has a really beautiful quote that fits in quite nicely with the theme of this post:
“Remember the will of God never takes you to where the grace of God will not protect you.”
Knowing I carry safety within me, I strive forward, I take risks, I leave my fears and doubts by the wayside because I am already safe without them. I know safety is a feeling I create for myself irrespective of my environment and external circumstances. And that’s what I wish for others as well.
I dream of a world where everyone feels safe at all times. A world where we can create that for each other. A world where we strive to create the feeling of safety in others by constructing a harmonious environment, a peaceful planet, a world filled with love. A world where we love ourselves and each other unconditionally. A world where that unconditional love translates into how we treat each other. A world where we know we are safe no matter what.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
So this week I’ve been in a funk. A part of me doesn’t even want to admit that because all I want to project is love and light and positivity out into the world. And the perfectionist side of me doesn’t want other people to know I get cranky sometimes (the horror!). What I realize though is this is an opportunity to love myself even further, even more deeply.
I think for a long time I’ve wanted to separate myself into parts. There’s the happy part, the sad part, the angry part, the fun part, etc. I’ve been placing a value judgment on the facets of my personality. Some aspects are “better” than others and so I should squirrel away the ones I don’t like, or so I thought. Being in this weird funk has shown me I am all my parts. I cannot be separated into different me’s – I am one and indivisible. The cranky person, the petulant person, the joyful person, the playful person – they are all me and no one emotion is better or worse than another. Every feeling falls in the emotional spectrum and each one is precious. They are indications I’m alive. And human life is a blessing.
By denying a certain side exists I only succeed in harming myself because it’s my way of saying, “This emotion is no good, I don’t like this part of me, I’m going to pretend it doesn’t exist.” In truth I am a divine child of God no matter what I’m feeling, no matter what I’m doing, no matter what I’m saying. God loves me at all times – when I’m fearful, when I’m spiteful, when I’m whiny – why can’t I extend the same courtesy to myself?
A few weeks ago I wrote a poem from God’s perspective about recognizing our magnificence and a part of the poem goes like this:
Love yourself the way I love you.
May you realize who you are so others may walk with you.
May you realize your own divinity so others may join you.
You are God’s child, perfect as you are, encased in love.
From your depths others will rise
So listen to your inner voice
And let your brightness shine through.
You are a great and magnificent divine being,
You are powerful beyond measure.
You are on this Earth so I may love you. Let me love me.
Love yourself the way I love you, unconditionally and eternally.
I suppose what I’m learning now is to love myself the way God loves me. To see myself through God’s eyes. To love all parts of myself, even the ones I want to pretend don’t exist. It’s funny that this should be such a process, it seems like loving yourself unconditionally would be the easiest thing in the world! I love my weird funky mood because it’s still a part of me. And I have that same wish for others.
I dream of a world where we all love all parts of ourselves unconditionally. Where we accept ourselves as we are right now. Where we allow ourselves to feel all emotions without judgment. Where we love ourselves the way God loves us. Where we rejoice in life. Where we allow our bad moods to come in and out like clouds floating by. Where we can be in a funk and know that’s ok. We are the full expressions of beauty and love in life just the same.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve been such a social butterfly lately – flitting from one outing to the next – that when I finally do get a moment alone, when I do get a chance to sit and be with me, I feel lonely. I feel like I want to pick up the phone and call someone and have them come over even though it’s 10:30 at night. Or I’ll want to immerse myself in reading, watching t.v., browsing the internet. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, or the occasional escapism. What I’m saying though is when it comes to a point where I feel uncomfortable sitting alone in my apartment, that’s a problem.
I don’t feel this way all the time, just sometimes. I love and approve and accept myself but sometimes, when I’m home alone on a Friday night (by my own choice I should add), I feel lonely. The place where I’m coming to is I realize being in the presence of other people won’t solve the problem; it will only mask it for a while. Just like I cannot depend on others to “make” me happy nor do I believe other people can “take away” my loneliness, anymore than they could take away fear or sadness. It’s liberating and also obnoxious to realize I feel what I want to feel. That includes loneliness.
In this moment I feel lonely because I’m choosing to feel lonely. In this moment I’m choosing to lament my single-girl status, my Friday night solitude. In point of fact there are many loved ones in my life. In truth I have plans from now until mid-August. I’m not saying this to brag about how popular I am, but to illustrate how it’s all a matter of perspective. I can choose to continue feeling lonely or I can embrace the times I’m alone. I can choose to feel empty because there’s no one for me to turn to and say, “Sometimes Isla Fisher looks like Alicia Silverstone,” or I can rejoice in this period of rejuvenation. In this blessed time where I get to be with just me, where I get to worry about me alone, where I get to take care of myself without worrying about anyone else. What a gift! What a blessing! I can choose to thank the universe for this period all to myself where I get to be with just me or not.
The truth is I am always connected to the Divine source, even when I feel like I’m not. The truth is God surrounds me at all times and also resides within me. It’s up to me to remember that.
I’m also reminded of one of my favorite quotes by Shrii Shrii Anandamurti, the founder of the yoga and meditation group I’m a part of:
“Whatever the reason for this vast universe, as long as this universe continues to exist, I am here to love you. The force that guides the stars guides you too: here, into my loving embrace. I am yours.”
When I consider that how can I possibly feel lonely? When I consider the force that created all of existence guides me, loves me, showers me with grace, why would I choose to feel disconnected from it all?
I say right here in this moment I choose to feel gratitude for having this opportunity to nourish myself. I feel grateful I can be alone with me and do the things I wish to do. I choose to recognize loneliness, like the many other emotions I experience, is my choice. That I can choose to feel lonely or not. I say I’d rather feel full and content and complete as I am in this moment. That I’d rather recognize I am surrounded by God’s love at all times. That God’s love pervades me at every moment.
I dream of a world where people recognize they are in charge of their minds. Where they realize it’s ok to feel all their emotions, even the less-than-pleasurable ones. Where they embrace all their feelings and allow themselves to enjoy the full spectrum. Where they recognize even when they’re in solitude they are still steeped in God’s love.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.