In high school and college, I was a stage manager. For the uninitiated, that’s the person who notes all the actors’ blocking, feeds them a line when they ask for it, calls the lighting and sound cues during the show, and just generally supports the director in manifesting their vision. I was good at it because I perpetually thought about the future and what was next. The shadow side of being an adept organizer/planner is I have trouble staying present.
After every show, I fell into a depression because there was no next. I didn’t have to plan and had no idea what to do with myself. I’m no longer a stage manager but the behavior didn’t quit when I stopped participating in theater. I still focus far too much on the future because I think that’s where my happiness lies. It’s the “I’ll be happy when” trap but life doesn’t happen in the future, it happens now. In this moment.
I can’t mention this topic without quoting Ram Dass and Eckhart Tolle. Ram Dass says in his famous book Be Here Now:
“[I]f you set the alarm to get up at 3:47 this morning and when the alarm rings and you get up and turn it off and say: ‘What time is it?’ You’d say, ‘Now. Now. Where am I? Here! Here!’ then go back to sleep and get up at 9:00 tomorrow. Where am I?? Here! What time is it? Now! Try 4:32 three weeks from next Thursday. By God it is – there’s no getting away from it – that’s the way it is. That’s the eternal present. You finally figure out that it’s only the clock that’s going around … it’s doing its thing but you – you’re sitting here, right now, always.”
Tolle writes, “Most humans are never fully present in the now because unconsciously they believe that the next moment must be more important than this one. But then you miss your whole life, which is never not now.” Yep. And to underscore the point some more, here’s another quote from Ram Dass: “What are you doing? Planning for the future? Well it’s all right now but later? Forget it baby, that’s later. Now is now. Are you going to be here or not? It’s as simple as that!”
What a moment. Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash
Simple but not easy. There’s a part of me that thinks I can skip to the “good part” of life where I have the husband, the house, the bestselling book, but I forget that the work now is how all of the future dreams come true. I can’t have the things I want now because I’m not the person I need to be to receive them. Here’s a true story to illustrate this.
I met a woman many years ago who I knew would become one of my closest friends. I wanted us to become bosom buddies, to quote Anne of Green Gables, but this friend didn’t get the memo. When she had a bachelorette party and didn’t invite me, I was hurt and disappointed because it didn’t seem right, it didn’t make sense. We were supposed to be close friends! Never mind the fact we hadn’t logged the hours on the phone or spent the time together in person to make that true!
Fast forward to today and not only am I invited to her bachelorette party, she asked me to give a toast at her wedding because we are bosom buddies and she wants to signal that to her community. I couldn’t have skipped to this part because our friendship hadn’t grown and developed. We didn’t know each other well enough to warrant an invite to her first bachelorette party. We lived our way into the future by being present to what was.
My spiritual teacher says the past, present, and future are not separate and distinct from each other. He adds, “Nothing suddenly emerges or suddenly disappears; all entities respectfully obey the Cosmic laws in a disciplined way and proceed from the future to the still more distant future in the panoramic flow of the Cosmic Cycle. No one can resist the momentum of this Cosmic flow – no one can contain it – no one can suppress it.”
I take that to mean, yes, the past influences the present and the future, but again life is a flow happening in the here and now. Am I moving with it or not?
I dream of a world where we live in the moment. A world where we understand the future is not more important than the present. A world where we recognize we can’t jump ahead to the future because we have to live our way into the future. A world where we remember life always happens here, now.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The other day I shared a poem by Khalil Gibran on Facebook titled “Fear.” I’m sharing it again here because it’s relevant to my life right now:
It is said that before entering the sea
a river trembles with fear.
She looks back at the path she has traveled,
from the peaks of the mountains,
the long winding road crossing forests and villages.
And in front of her,
she sees an ocean so vast,
that to enter
there seems nothing more than to disappear forever.
But there is no other way.
The river cannot go back.
Nobody can go back.
To go back is impossible in existence.
The river needs to take the risk
of entering the ocean
because only then will fear disappear,
because that’s where the river will know
it’s not about disappearing into the ocean,
but of becoming the ocean.
I am that river right now. I’m traveling through mountain peaks and crossing forests. The current of life is moving me along in a direction that excites me and scares me. I’m progressing toward something I didn’t anticipate and for many years said I never wanted, yet here I am, traveling down this path. I want to run away, to turn back and go in the other direction, but like the river, I cannot. Too much momentum has built up. Will I change course? Possibly, but eventually I’ll still enter the ocean, become the ocean. It’s inevitable one way or another.
It all leads to this. Photo by Mathew Waters on Unsplash
I’m speaking in metaphors but that’s because I’m not ready to talk about what I’m going through publicly yet. A part of me doesn’t want to fully commit to this path and telling people what I’m doing means just that. Also, so much changes so quickly for me these days. The river current is rough and filled with rapids at the moment. I don’t know how things will shake out.
And yet, there’s something about becoming the ocean that speaks to me. When I look at what I’m going through, it feels like I’m becoming my truest self. I’m becoming the self I was always meant to be, which is lovely. Also, there’s the spiritual level of becoming the ocean.
My spiritual teacher often uses the metaphor of a river and the ocean to talk about the spiritual journey we’re on. How we’re flowing back to the ocean and becoming the ocean. In essence, we’re returning to Cosmic Consciousness and merging with it.
Sometimes the journey is fast and sometimes it’s slow, but it’s inevitable according to my spiritual philosophy. There’s something comforting for me about knowing the general path is laid out, that even if this river changes course, eventually I’ll still wind up in the same place: the ocean.
I don’t know if this post is making much sense, but I want to close with saying we are each becoming more fully our true selves. We are learning and growing and changing. The process can be scary at times, we may be wending our way through the dark, but we’re heading somewhere amazing and becoming who we’re meant to be.
I dream of a world where we realize our greatness. A world where we flow with the current of life. A world where we understand sometimes there comes a point where we can’t turn back and all that’s left is to keep going. A world where we become the ocean.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve come to believe that to be alive means to experience trauma; and I don’t mean things like war, or car accidents (although those things too) — I mean things like death, divorce, and anything else that shakes us up and makes us feel unsafe physically or emotionally. Trauma can also be secondary, by the way. It can be hearing or seeing someone else’s traumatic experiences. When you take into account the majority of news stories, I’m pretty sure we’re all walking around a little traumatized.
We all deal with trauma in our own ways, but I’ve noticed I deal with trauma by minimizing it, dismissing it, or doing whatever I can to distract myself from the depths of my feelings. Who wants to feel sad or angry or insecure when there are movies to watch, people to call? Who wants to feel sad or angry or insecure when there are places to visit and dreams to chase? I certainly don’t. But the reality is, we can’t outrun our trauma; it clings to us like a shadow. Carl Jung said, “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you’ll call it fate.”
Go with emotions like flowing down a river.
Carl, why you gotta be so spot on? I don’t want to make the unconscious conscious, but I’ve reached a point in my life where I can’t ignore it anymore. As someone said to me once, “What you resist, persists.” I wanted to punch them in the face when they said that to me, but I found, yes, it’s true. I kept working so hard to resist, but my resistance didn’t banish the problem, it only served to keep it alive. The question then becomes, how is a professional emotional runner, so to speak, supposed to all of a sudden stop running? How can a person face their demons instead?
When I brought this up to my therapist, he said to me, “Just lie down. Instead of actively trying to skirt the perimeter, yield, and let the flood wash over you.” And wash over me it did. When I stopped actively trying to do anything, all of the emotions overtook me. I didn’t enjoy it, it wasn’t “fun,” but I feel relieved. It takes a lot of energy to run away from feelings. A LOT. By stopping, by turning around to face my feelings instead, I feel drained, but in a good way. Like after a full day swimming.
To tie all of this to a spiritual concept, people talk a lot about being in the flow of life – me too – but I think it’s important to remember, getting into the flow is not always an active process. Sometimes being in the flow is allowing ourselves to be carried by whatever is here. Just like flowing down a river, it’s a lot easier if we don’t resist, and also, we have no idea where it will take us.
I dream of a world where we yield to what we’re resisting. A world where we feel our feelings instead of pushing them away. A world where we put ourselves into the flow by understanding sometimes that’s a passive process.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve been hearing a lot about “being in the flow” or returning to the flow. The way being in the flow is presented is when you hit every green light and run into a friend unexpectedly on the street and everything is going your way. In other words, a really good day. Not being in the flow then, means hitting every red light, just missing the person you wanted to see, and nothing is going your way. In other words, a really bad day.
Maybe this is just my interpretation, but it seems to me people say when we’re not in the flow, it’s our fault. It’s because I’m not thinking the right thoughts, I’m not aligning with the divine, I’m not grateful enough, or whatever. The reason though always has something to do with me.
Life is like a river and we’re all flowing back to the sea.
When I start to think about being in the flow from that perspective, it doesn’t make sense. How can everything be my fault? I don’t control the universe. For every action there is a reaction – that’s a law of nature. How could I possibly be the cause of whether or not some guy gets drunk and runs a red light? Therefore, how could I possibly be the one to cause all of my good days and bad days? Even if we all were little islands, even islands are subjected to storms and wave currents. We aren’t in control of everything and when I try to be, I only succeed in making myself crazy.
There seems to be this notion, again, maybe of my own perception, that when a person becomes really spiritual, when they’re “thinking the right thoughts,” that all of sudden life is peachy keen and they never have another trouble again. And if they have any sort of troubles, it’s because they attracted it to themselves. When I think about one of the most famous spiritual teachers, Jesus Christ, his life was not sunshine and roses. What’s so amazing about Jesus was his ability to forgive, to continue preaching peace and love despite all the horrible things he went through. That to me is real spirituality, not living a trouble-free life.
My spiritual teacher says every human being willingly or unwillingly dances in harmony with the rise and fall of the cosmic waves. That there is a ceaseless and eternal cosmic flow. That to me means I stay in the flow by remembering I’m never out of the flow, even when I’m late for all my appointments, lose my luggage, and have a day I’d rather not experience again.
When people talk about getting back in the flow, it’s a good reminder to touch base with the divine, to feel the love that’s all around me, but it’s also important to remember just because I’m letting the universal energy move through me, doesn’t mean life will always be a pleasure cruise.
Almost exactly two years ago I wrote a post called, “Love is the Container,” about how even when I’m sad, angry, scared, etc. love is there, love is holding all of those emotions. In the same way, when nothing goes right, I’m still in the cosmic flow. But maybe instead of cresting the wave, I’m down in the trough. Life is a constant flow with ups and downs and I’ll never be able to tell the waves to quit moving, so instead, it’s better for me to enjoy the ride whether I’m surfing or crashing.
I dream of a world where we realize we are always in the flow, whether we’re having a good day or a bad one. A world where instead of striving for ceaseless pleasure, we work on adjusting ourselves and our attitudes. A world where we realize to stay in the flow we don’t have to do anything because we never left.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
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.
I’m just going to be honest. For the past couple of weeks I’ve been feeling sad and frustrated. I’ve been in the space of, “Where is blah di blah? Why isn’t it here yet? Why don’t I have it yet?” Then I want to slip into my fearful controlling place to “make” it happen. But that doesn’t work for me. It never has.
I dream of a world where we all allow ourselves to get what it is we want. A world where we know all our needs and desires will be fulfilled with time. A world where we understand life is about flow and movement and that means letting ourselves be carried. A world where we let ourselves dream big and know those dreams will come true if we let them.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.