Wow. Things are happening so quickly in my life it’s making my head spin and bringing up a bit of fear, to be honest. This time last week I was in Italy, which is why I didn’t blog, and the Sunday before that I was in Austria. My whole trip was an experience of grace, of being showered with love from above, and that’s what I want to share with you – how life can be so sweet it can make your heart burst.
The whole trip started off on a good note because I found out my favorite painting, Gustav Klimt’s “The Kiss” would be exhibiting in Vienna in honor of Klimt’s 150th birthday:
This painting is 5 ft x 5 ft. I stared at it for a solid 15 minutes taking in the gold plating and all the colors.
When I got to the airport the airline crew told me they could only get me to Germany and not to Vienna because there was a strike in Germany at the time. When I asked what they could do for me, they suggested a later flight connecting through London. On that flight I had an entire row all to myself so I’d say it worked out in my favor.
I was in Vienna primarily for work but I had many sweet moments, like getting a bit turned around and someone coming up to me and saying in German, “Do you need help?” to which I responded in English, “Yes, I’m lost.” The woman walked me to my street before we determined my location was too far away and I’d gotten off the Ubahn (subway) one stop too early.
Also, on my last day in Vienna I finally made it to the Belvedere, which was housing “The Kiss.” I got sooo lost getting to the museum because I walked through a construction zone but it’s a good thing I did because I passed by a store that sold pay-as-you-go phones, a necessary purchase I had been unable to buy until that moment. If I hadn’t gotten lost I wouldn’t have walked by the store. It’s the little moments of grace that really get to me. Like the time I rushed to catch my train to Venice, thinking I’d be late, but instead the train was delayed by 5 minutes. When I heard that announcement I smiled to myself because it’s as if the train had been late for me.
There were also grander examples of grace, like when I was in Rome. I checked facebook the Friday evening I arrived and a monk from the States announced, “I’m in Rome.” I messaged him and said “I’m in Rome!” He told me of a group meditation the next day, and how to get there via the train. I walked on the second to last train car and sitting at the end, in a seat facing me, was a friend of mine. The monk told me I’d see my friend but I didn’t anticipate running into him on the train. I squealed in delight and my friend was surprised to say the least. We ended up spending the day together on Sunday – touring the Colosseum, the church containing Michelangelo’s Moses with the horns, and more. It was an especially sweet encounter because Friday night I felt sad anticipating the friend I’d been traveling with had to go back to France. My heart sunk as I thought about walking around in a strange city by myself, and instead I hung out with my friend and two friends of his. I couldn’t ask for any more grace.
The cap the trip off, on Tuesday morning I slept through my alarm, woke up 10 minutes after my cab arrived, and still managed to catch my flight with time to spare. I don’t know how it happened but it did.
That brings us to today. I found out the day after I came back from Europe I need to move out of my current house – not because my housemates hate me or anything, it’s because they have a really good friend moving to the city. Today I looked at Craigslist just for kicks although I wasn’t prepared to move out until April 21st – everybody is posting things available now or for April 1st – when I stumbled across a listing that sounded perfect. I e-mailed the guy today, looked at the apartment today, and told him today I wanted it. Nothing is confirmed but it’s quite possible I’ll be moving out in a few weeks into an apartment that’s bigger than my old one for less money. The grace I’m experiencing is staggering.
I mention all this not to brag about what’s going on in my life but rather to illustrate anything is possible. To showcase how the universe can conspire to grace us. To give us everything we asked for and more. To demonstrate what it means to be in the universal flow.
I dream of a world where we all experience untold sweetness. A world where go with the grace being bestowed upon us. A world where we take advantage of what comes our way. A world where we live in wonder as we watch the magic unfolding in our lives.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I can say unequivocally this has been the most stressful week of my life. I’m including in that list the week I got laid off, the week sprained my ankle, the week I moved across the country, the week I graduated from college, etc. On top of the general stress of packing/moving, I also had to contend with painting AND getting my book Just a Girl from Kansas to the printer. So in this week of crazy, I had several very sweet moments of being shown how my needs will be met and the universe will provide for me.
On a small scale, on Wednesday my lips were extremely chapped and I’d left my chapstick at home. I kept thinking I would love to rub some olive oil on them and I hoped my new home would have some. As I walked into the kitchen, there sat a huge jar of olive oil, which hadn’t been there the previous day. I also realized I needed boxes for the move, which I found in our garage. It was interesting to me I found these two items at the house I was moving into – like it was an indicator of things to come. This is tangential but related, I just traipsed down to the garden and snipped some lettuce leaves and started chuckling to myself because about a year ago I had the conversation with a friend that I would like to live somewhere with a garden but not have to tend to it myself. Tada!
On a larger scale, I really had no idea how I would pack and move everything by 1:30 p.m. yesterday. What with the painting, the time I had allotted for packing got eaten up. My deadline was self-imposed, but with good reason. This is the last weekend in January and I didn’t want to have to pay for rent in February. Plus, if I needed extra time beyond Saturday I wanted to give myself that buffer. I almost started hyperventilating on Thursday, wondering how I would get it all done. The universe provides, because my (former) downstairs neighbor came up to help me. She packed while I ate dinner. Then on Friday a friend called and he said he could help me pack Saturday morning. And the help kept coming. Friend after friend came by to help me pack and move. One left to do other things and then came back.
I already wrote them all a gushy e-mail, but in essence I am overcome with gratitude and appreciation. I am in awe and in love with how the universe is providing for me. And not only that, but I’m allowing myself to receive it. It wasn’t too long ago that I would have stayed up all night packing by myself because I didn’t want any help. Or because I was too scared to ask. To allow that to come in is huge.
This post is a little all over the place, but in essence, I’m seeing how the universe provides for me. How the universe takes care of me. How it ensures all of my needs will be met. I’m seeing that what I need will always be there if I give it long enough. And that my friends, is a sweet place to be in.
I dream of a world where we know the universe will provide us with what we need. A world where we allow ourselves to receive our hearts wishes. A world where we reach out and ask for help, knowing it will come. A world where bask in the knowledge all of our needs will always be met.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I have this “thing” about age and success. I am riotously envious of those who are young and successful. Success in this sense means they wrote a best-selling book or started a business or head up a major department at work. It may seem strange for me to talk about success when only a few weeks ago I wrote a post about how only love is real. I do believe only love is real, but at the same time I know I am here to birth certain creative projects, and I have a desire to see them succeed. I feel envious of people (even fictional ones!) who are doing well for themselves under the age of 30. Somehow in my mind if you’re successful and you’re young, it’s a double whammy. A double achievement.
There are many issues I could touch on here – how success may be defined in numerous ways, how success doesn’t guarantee untold bliss and happiness – but what I’d like to focus on is the link to age. Why is it such a big deal for me? So what if some kid became a millionaire at age 12? So what if someone started up a billion dollar company and retired at age 32? Does age really matter? Why is youth such a trophy?
You know what? It’s not. Ultimately age is not important, it’s just a marker of when something was accomplished. I can take out my pressing need to do things quickly and while in the bloom of youth because really it’s the idea, the project, the art that’s most important. When I focus on age I lose sight of that. Yes, only love is real, but I am a human and I was put on this Earth to engage. To be a conduit for the divine and transmit certain messages. That’s what’s important. Not when I transmit them. “When” doesn’t ultimately matter as much as showing up for my part. If I accomplish something sooner it doesn’t make it more valuable. Let me say that again. If I accomplish something at the age of 15 or at 50 neither is better than the other.
Admitting “when” something is accomplished is not important is difficult for me to accept because I’ve been focused on the “when” for so long. But honestly, I’ve known in my heart all along the creation is what’s matters most.
A friend of mine said to me years ago young people who join 12 step programs are so lucky because they spend fewer years acting out their addictions. My response to him was even experiencing one day of sobriety is a gift. It doesn’t matter when you become sober, just as long as you’re sober. The same can be applied to dreams I think. It doesn’t matter when you accomplish your dreams, as long as they are accomplished.
I can now release my want to do things immediately and before I’m 30 because I know there is plenty of time. I don’t have to rush. Everything falls into place when it’s supposed to, and the idea success is even greater if I’m young when it happens can drop off because that’s all in my mind. I don’t have to believe that anymore. And I have the same wish for others.
I dream of a world where we all lose our hang up with time. A world where we understand “when” doesn’t matter, as long as our heart and soul’s desire comes to fruition. A world where we understand perhaps benevolent forces are at work that have a broader perspective about “when” it’s best for something to manifest. A world where we live freely without comparison and judgment. A world where allow ourselves to be, to dream, to achieve, knowing whenever our projects manifest is when they’re supposed to.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Sometimes I wish I was born as a wealthy princess, married to a handsome prince, and my only responsibility was to read books and go for walks. Sometimes I think if only things were a certain way then life would be so grand. But since that’s not my life, I’ve wanted to do as much good as I can, burn as many individual units of karma as possible, and get the heck out of dodge. Because the whole point of human life is to get to Heaven as quickly as possible! Oh wait, that’s not right.
At a particularly low time in my life, a good friend of mine said, “You can’t have the sweet without the sour.” I brushed off his statement because it seemed like a cliché thing to say. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, the world’s about balance. Blah, blah, blah.” What I didn’t realize at the time is you can’t have the sweet without the sour. I didn’t understand it’s the contrast that allows me to experience the sweet. If I had sugar all the time I wouldn’t even know it was sweet because I would become so acclimated to the taste it would become bland. I didn’t realize in order for me to experience joy, I also have to know sorrow. That there can be no “good” without “bad” because oftentimes states of being are defined by what they’re not. How can I know what bliss is if I haven’t experienced misery?
I think about that joke where two fish are swimming in the ocean. The first fish turns to the other and says, “The water’s really warm today.” The other fish says, “What’s water?” If I lived in a constant state of bliss I wouldn’t know what bliss is, much like those fish. So that is why I became physical. To experience all of it. The peaks, the valleys. The joys, the sorrows. Everything in between. Because only I, in my physical body, get to experience that. Angels, divine beings, they don’t get to experience any of it. They don’t know the thrill of ice skating or holding hands with their beloved. But I do. So this is it. The greatest ride of all. Being human. There is no heaven the way I’ve interpreted it. There is no time when I get to feel any better than I do right now. There is no time when I get to experience constant bliss, because when bliss is constant it ceases to be bliss.
I became physical so I could know all this. So I could feel all of my emotions, not just the good ones. A part of me wants to feel high all the time, doesn’t want to ever feel sad or hurt ever again. I understand now I can’t know the joy of a reunion without first experiencing a separation. I can’t understand the joys of eating unless I’ve been hungry. I entered the world to watch birds swooping in and out of traffic, to gaze at bright yellow taxis and tall redwood trees. I became physical to know the joy of a little girl racing toward me with open arms saying, “Auntie!” That’s it. I came for the experience, not the outcome.
I don’t know that I’m making any sense, but much like Licia Berry wrote in her blog, I’m recognizing my spiritual life is experiential in nature. That enlightenment and bliss are not things that happen at the end of my life after I’ve stood on my head and prayed a million times, but rather states of being accessible for me in the here and now. Because you can’t have the sweet without the sour.
I dream of a world where we allow ourselves to experience everything. A world where we know the thrill of love and the pain of separation. A world where we understand the sacredness, and the treasure, of being human because no other creature gets to experience the rollercoaster we do. A world where we have fun, enjoy life, and understand what it means to be physical.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
If you don’t know about it, in response to recent suicides by LGBT youth, columnist Dan Savage launched a project called It Gets Better for people to upload videos talking about how life gets better, how life is worth living. That if you’re LGBT, or even just identify as queer, life will not always be hard. That good things are waiting for you and to hang around for them.
Here’s Dan Savage’s video:
Here’s a video from Chaz Bono, Sunny Bono and Cher’s kid:
Can I just say I love this exists? I love the progress we have made in the world that hundreds of people will upload videos onto YouTube talking about how Life Gets Better. How the dark moments don’t last forever. How we all find love and happiness. How no one can keep us down because we are destined to fly.
I love this is playing out on the national stage. That people are less afraid to be true to themselves, to let themselves shine. Is it happening as quickly as I would like? Of course not. (I mean, come on, have you met me?) But the point is it’s happening. It’s happening. All the things we want are taking place. And that is a beautiful thing.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Right now my mind is whirling. It’s filled with visions of past people and situations. Of old friends, favorite teachers and former crushes. I’m mulling over my past self — who I was was and what I did. Last night was my eight year high school reunion (yes, eight year. It’s a small school and they combined classes from 1997-2002). Talk about a time warp. It’s a trip to see yourself in the eyes of another while you try to convince them in the span of five minutes you aren’t the same. That you are no longer that girl who lacks perspective, who gets so trapped in the details of life she doesn’t see the big picture. But of course to them you’ll always be the person who wore a yellow tanktop over a plaid shirt for tacky day.
I remarked to a friend of mine it’s weird to go from seeing certain people every day for years to all of a sudden not at all and then suddenly to see them again. I’m still tripping out this morning because my mind likes to reconcile the past with the present. To put together past selves with current realities. It’s like a puzzle — in high school you were this person and today you’re this person. Maybe it’s the journalist in me but I want to know the story. How did it all happen? How did you end up doing what you’re doing? I think I’m also still tripping out about my reunion because I’m not satisfied. I don’t know the stories. I don’t know the progressions from the past to the present. All I have are past selves and now current selves with no idea what happened in between. Perhaps though it doesn’t matter.
As I wrote about last week (and many times before), all there is is now. All there is is here. This moment in time as I sit on my bed typing on a borrowed laptop so old the wireless card is external. My mind likes to latch onto the past and mull it over but really the past matters only so much as I let it. It matters only as much as I allow it to shape the now. Of course there are consequences for every action and those consequences are still playing out, but me? My person? I get to decide moment by moment who I am and how my life will work. As Louise Hay says, “The point of of power is always in the now.” It doesn’t really matter who I was and what I did because I’m dealing with the now. The person I am today. The person who writes a weekly blog in the hopes her own struggles and insights will help others on their path of self-realization.
I may never know how my peers got to where they are and that’s ok. Because they’re here now. They’re nurses and actors and stay-at-home moms. They’re photographers and lawyers and teachers. All the trappings of what they’re doing pale in comparison to who they are. To their essence. I already know their essence, just as I know my own essence. We are all love incarnate. Divine beings in human form. Therefore I know them already. Even with eight year gaps and stories in between we still know one another. Because their essence remains unchanged. When I dip into all that is I recognize that. I no longer feel the pain of separation or the rupture of an abrupt goodbye. Because I am you and you are me. When I feel sadness it’s because I’ve forgotten that. Forgotten who I really am and where I come from, and I don’t mean Wichita, Kan. There are no goodbyes because how do you say goodbye to yourself? Even when you lose yourself you’ll eventually find you again. It’s inevitable.
We are always connected to each other and that will not change. No matter what happens in the physical realm, in the spiritual realm we are all one. So the fact I didn’t get to say goodbye to some folks, or that others didn’t attend the reunion, doesn’t ultimately matter. Time goes on and things in the physical world unfold but really we are eternal creatures. Outer appearances change but we remain the same.
I dream of a world where we recognize we are all connected at all times. A world where we understand “goodbye” is just a word because separation is an illusion. A world where we recognize our essence is what matters above all else. Above what we’re doing and how we got there. I dream of a world where we see ourselves for who we are really are: spiritual beings having a human experience.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Does anyone else think of that kid’s song when they hear, “Shame, shame, shame?” Maybe it’s just me. Anyway, right. Shame. It’s my issue du jour this week. There’s a whole lot of, “Oh my god I can’t believe I did that,” and “What would people think if they found out?!?”
This week Shakespeare’s quote, “All the world’s a stage/And all the men and women merely players,” finally made sense to me. I really got my whole life is one big drama. In Sanskrit there’s a word liila, which means “the divine play” and it’s used in conjunction with God. As in, “My whole life is God’s liila or divine play.”