So my book is finally out. And by that I mean it’s been sent to reviewers, friends, and family. All day today I’ve felt uncomfortable because I’ve been nervous about how the book will be received. I thought it was because I worried about whether people will like it or not, but in truth that’s not what’s bothering me. In truth, I’m scared. I’m scared that once people read all my personal details, once everyone sees how my mind works, that my friends will decide to disassociate with me. That once my true self is revealed I’ll be shunned.
This is an old story for me, one from childhood. I’ve believed I didn’t have friends as a kid because once my peers found out how weird I was they decided not to have anything to do with me. That’s how I viewed things through my childhood lens. But as an adult I can see a fuller, more accurate picture. That’s really not what happened. I had friends. Nobody shunned me. Really I was the one rejecting them because I didn’t feel a connection. I chose to spend time by myself rather than with people I didn’t share anything in common with. It wasn’t because I was a weirdo loser freak that scared people off. It wasn’t because people found out about “the real me.”
As an adult I also know people like learning about vulnerabilities, they LOVE hearing about the deeply personal stuff because that’s how we connect with one another. I love it when people feel like they can confide in me. When they want to talk about what’s really going on. My book is an opportunity of sorts to have the same thing happen, to allow people to connect with me. Instead of keeping others at arm’s length, I’m letting people in. I think that’s what’s so scary. I don’t get to pick and choose who I’m letting in, it’s anyone who’s interested in my story.
I also think about how people have shared with me things they were ashamed of, things that are not widely accepted or approved of, and my response was not to go running from the room. My response was not to turn up my nose in disgust. Instead I felt compassion for the person, for the pain that drove them to act out in such a way. I’m hoping my friends will react the same way. Instead of cutting off all ties because they found out some things that happened years ago, they’ll react with compassion and with love. Because when I’ve been my most vulnerable that’s all I’ve ever received.
I guess I’m saying I can look at a story that has shaped my identity and how I move about the world with a different lens. These days I get to see the reality of what happened to me instead of just the pain. I get to heal my childhood trauma and recognize I wasn’t as powerless as I led myself to believe. That I had a choice in things. That I co-created an experience for myself.
As far as my book, no one will turn me out because they suddenly find out I’m human and I have feelings. They won’t say, “Sorry Rebekah, you’re not the person I thought you were,” because they learned more about me. But if they do, is that really someone I want in my life anyone? I choose to know it’s safe to be me, that it’s safe to express myself, that I can view my life’s events from another lens and thus experience some peace.
I dream of a world where we know it’s safe to reveal our true colors. A world where we feel comfortable sharing our raw and honest emotions. A world where we examine our past with a different lens acknowledging things were perhaps not what they seemed.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This post is a continuation of one I wrote a few weeks ago called “It won’t look the way we think,” because I’m finding what I think I want and what I actually want can sometimes be two different things. This happens to me at times when my life is about to undergo a major shift, when I’m shedding old skin and growing into someone new. The first time my egoic desires didn’t line up with my heart’s desires was when I had to decide whether to move to San Francisco or not. After college I really thought I’d be happy living in the suburbs of D.C. for the rest of my life with a husband and two cats, writing for a magazine. The universe had other things in mind and threw me an enormous curveball by telling me, “No. You don’t want to live in D.C. forever – you need to move to San Francisco.” The journey that took me from D.C. to California is detailed extensively in my book, Just a Girl from Kansas, which will be available to friends and family (and followers of this blog) in the next few weeks. And now I find myself at another crossroads.
Many of you already know this – especially because I blogged about it in November – but I have had a HELL of a time sleeping in my apartment. It’s been one damn thing after another since August. In my mind, I was going to live in this apartment until I got married but the universe has other plans because it’s again telling me, “No, you need to move now.” I know this because it has literally been one thing after another to keep me from enjoying my space, not to mention I’m scared to go to sleep every night because I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep through it. My friend said to me, “That’s no way to live.” And he’s right, it’s not. The interesting thing is prior to all of this no-sleeping business I literally cried multiple times because I wished someone would make dinner for me while I packed to leave for a trip. I thought it was going to be in the form of a boyfriend, but it turns out I’m moving into a house where they like to make dinner for everyone in it.
This moving situation is again an instance where my head desires and heart desires are misaligned because the house is everything I’ve asked for. It’s big, has an alcove separate from my bedroom that can be my work space, it’s sunny, with a dishwasher, washer and dryer, close to public transportation, quiet, and filled with people who are ready and willing to share cooking and cleaning. Sounds like what I ultimately wanted, yes?
I’ve been grieving about leaving my old place because I really have loved living here. While listening to Doreen Virtue’s blog radio show I finally felt some peace. The caller (also named Rebecca) said her life feels like it’s unraveling. Doreen’s response to her was, “Let your life unravel – that’s not what you want anymore anyway.” Her words struck me because that’s also true for me. Because I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want to live here anymore. I don’t want to constantly have to assert myself. I don’t want to have to deal with random noises and neighbors and parking lots attendants whistling to get someone’s attention. I’m trading that all in for a place where I hear birds whistling, not people. Where there’s no one stomping around above me. Where I don’t have to worry about passing crack addicts and homeless people. So maybe my higher power knows what I want and need better than I do.
I dream of a world where we allow ourselves to move with the universal energy that’s guiding us. A world where we stretch our goals and dreams and allow them to change as we change. A world where we pay attention to the reality before us and do something about it. A world where we know sometimes our heart and our head won’t match up but that’s ok, because in the end we’ll get what we ultimately wanted anyway.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Am I blogging on Christmas? Why yes, yes I am. Because today is Christmas, I thought I would take this time to talk about Jesus. Maybe it’s because I’m Jewish, but to me, Jesus seems like a mythical figure on the order of Zeus or Apollo. He lived so long ago that sometimes I take for granted he actually existed. He was born, he bled, he defecated. Jesus was a human being. Yes, an amazing human being, but he still existed, was still blood and bones the same as you and I. And that is pretty astounding to me. What I also found out today courtesy of one of my facebook friends, is Sir Isaac Newton was also born today. Newton wasn’t Jesus, but he was still a pretty remarkable guy.
This all probably seems very random, but it’s related because I am inspired by these people. People who were alive, people who cried, people who got angry. When I hear about folks like Jesus or Isaac Newton or Albert Einstein or Martin Luther King Jr. I somehow put them above me. I think to myself, “Those were amazing human beings but I could never do anything like they did. I could never accomplish what they did. I’m just a girl from Kansas (which coincidentally is the title of my book).” I somehow don’t believe they felt the things I felt or struggled the way I struggled. Even when I read about the person’s challenges, in my mind it might as well be fiction because I’m so far removed. So today I’m reminded they are just like me. And in reality, why couldn’t you or I do world-changing things? What separates you and I from Newton, Einstein, MLK, Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Shakespeare, or any of the other greats we read about? Nothing. They were people just like us. They had fears and failures just like us.
Today I feel on a very core level there is no separation from me and someone like Jesus or Newton or MLK. We all come from the same source. We’re all made of the same material. We all feel things. Any of the great people we read about could have just as easily said, “You know, I’m pretty tired, I think I’ll sit this out and let someone else do it.” The beautiful thing about all these people is they didn’t. They decided to push through their fears, to keep going, to not let the challenges stand in their way. They show us we too have the capacity for greatness. We too can do amazing, inspiring, uplifting things. We too have the potential to go down in the history books.
I dream of a world where we all know no person – alive or dead – is superior or inferior to us. A world where we understand nothing sets us apart from great people other than choice. A world where we pay attention to what we really love and then go do it. A world where we honor the giants among us while also knowing we are one of the giants too.
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.
Years ago when someone said to me, “More than anything I just want to feel at peace,” my immediate reaction was, “Pssshaw. Peace? I don’t want to feel at peace! I want _______.” I wanted what I wanted. None of this “peace” business. Give me a great body, clear skin, a full bank account, a loving boyfriend, and a nice place to live and then maybe we can talk about peace.
What’s funny is peace is all I want these days too. I want to be even keel, not obsessing, worrying, or acting compulsively. That’s how I define peace. A sense of calmness, being unperturbed despite the hullabaloo taking place around me. Internal peace is feeling everything will be ok no matter the outcome. My friend B would call that “unconditional serenity.” Yeah. That’s what I want. Serenity without conditions.
I bring this up because when I launched my kickstarter campaign I was in a right state – obsessing over how much I had left to go, worrying I won’t make it, compulsively checking and sending my email. And now? Of course I care, of course I’m still taking action, of course I’m still encouraging folks to donate, but honestly, I’d rather feel at peace about it. And not just my kickstarter campaign, but my entire life. I’d rather just trust it will turn out the way it’s supposed to. And I don’t have to worry about the future because I’m not in the future, I’m in the present. And for today I have enough money in the bank and my kickstarter campaign is 41% funded. So you know what? We’re all good. Not only that, it’s out of my hands.
That’s the truth of it. I’m not in control of pretty much anything except my own thoughts and actions. I do not control whether people donate. I do not control whether I get more freelance work. All I control are my thoughts – which are that the universe supports and loves me – and my actions – which are I will continue to email people and continue to look for freelancing work. The end results are not up to me.
The thoughts though. Oh my goodness the thoughts. I’ve had to tell myself over and over again the universe supports and loves me. And the campaign will either be successful or it won’t. Because the truth is I don’t like stewing in the same pattern of, “Will it be successful? Should I email more people? Who should I contact? Who should I not contact? Will you give me money? How about you? What about your friends?” I’m still going to email folks but it doesn’t have to be a constant barrage of “Will we make it? Will we make it?” Dear Lord, just give me peace!
So that’s what I’m praying for. For my higher power to take this from me. To allow me to be of service. To allow me to get out of my own head. I’m praying for trust and faith in the universe. I’m praying to know that no matter what happens to recognize it’s in my best interest. I’m praying for clear guidance and for the obsession to lift. And I pray for other people as well.
I dream of a world where we all know the exquisite experience of internal peace. A world where we all ask for peace in any situation because we know we have the power to do so. A world where we trust ourselves and we trust the universe. A world where we allow the universe to flow through us and around us. A world where we live in peace.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This week I’ve been amazed by the generosity of spirit my book Just a Girl From Kansas has received. (For those of you who don’t know, I started a kickstarter campaign to raise the funds so I can professionally edit, design, and lay out the book.) I am so touched by just how much people have donated to the project. It’s only been five days and we already have more than $1,400. I’ve opened my inbox day after day and found donations ranging anywhere from $5 to $150.
Hello! So I've been talking about my book, Just a Girl From Kansas for months and months. Well, I finally launched a kickstarter campaign so I can actually get it published!
For those of you who don't know, Kickstarter is an all or nothing fundraising platform. So that means I either raise all $5k by July 1st or I don't see a dime. So when I say to you, "Every little bit counts," I really mean it! The other cool thing about kickstarter is along with your donation you get a backer reward like a signed copy of the book or a handwritten thank you. If you would consider donating even a little bit I would greatly appreciate it. http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/292967147/get-just-a-girl-from-kansas-published Thank you so much!
This week I fell into a tizzy. I submitted the first 10 pages of my book Just a Girl From Kansas to a professional copy editor and she chopped out all the parts I felt were important. It wasn’t so much her suggested edits, but her deletions that got to me. I felt like she didn’t “get” me at all. I cried about it, I wrung my hands, I went into a tailspin questioning my abilities as a writer. Perhaps this copy editor knew better than I did. After all, she is a professional. Maybe I better listen to her and disregard my intuition.
. . .
No. Just no. Copy editing, like all other relationships, requires the right match. I sent the first 10 pages to a former colleague of mine, who’s also a copy editor, and she got it. She got me. I wasn’t bothered by her changes because she kept my heart intact. I didn’t feel threatened or insecure. I felt pretty comfortable, actually. Obviously my former colleague is a better match for me.
Prior to this experience, I thought a copy editor was a copy editor was a copy editor. “You mean they’re not interchangeable? You mean they don’t all do the same thing?” No, silly girl, everyone is different and does things differently! I mean of course I had to find the right person to copy edit my book. Just like I’ve had to find the right person with all my relationships.
I used to think just any person could be my best friend. As long as they said I was their best friend and they were mine, nothing else mattered. I didn’t care so much about the person as the role they played. The role was the most important part for me. I had an empty cast list I needed filling. “Pull ‘em off the street! I don’t care!”
Perhaps it’s a part of growing up, or building self-esteem, but I’m not interested in contorting myself to please others anymore. I’m not interested in compromising myself just to keep someone else around. Just so I can check off a box in my cast list. Because the right person really does make a difference. The right person really is worth waiting for. I can spend time gnawing at my fingernails and kowtowing to other people, or I can say, “No thanks,” and find someone who meets my needs. My part is feeling OK with the blank space.
I’m not going to regale you with the beauty of waiting for the right person and how it’s so much better when you do, because we’ve all heard it before. What I will say is I’m worth it. I’m worthy of waiting for the right person. I have enough self-esteem to say “No” to people and situations that do not serve me. I have value and my feelings matter. How I feel means something and I don’t need to justify myself to anyone else or try to bend my will to theirs when it feels wrong.
The role is not most important. The person is. So I’m willing to wait. I’m willing to wait for what I want. I’m willing to let go of the people who aren’t it while I keep searching for the person who is. I’m willing to be OK with the vacancies because I know, even from this small example, the incorrect match is far more painful than not having anyone at all.
I dream of a world where we are willing to wait for the right person for all situations. A world where we have enough self-esteem and pride that we trust ourselves and our intuition. A world where we’re content with waiting because it’s far less painful than wearing shoes that pinch your toes.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.