I live in a very transient area. People move here and move away all the time. It’s one of the most painful aspects of living here, especially for a person like me who clings to people like a barnacle. “Don’t leave me! Stay!” Except, the thing is, even if a person is physically present, it doesn’t mean they’re emotionally present, or that they’ll be emotionally present all the time. Well crap. What’s a person to do?
I’m going to pass on a secret: Be there for yourself. Counter to all the messages we’re being fed, the solution to fears of abandonment is not to find that one perfect person to spend the rest of our life with. The solution is to give that to ourselves. To say to myself, “Rebekah, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, I’m not ever going anywhere. I’ll stay.” People, and pets for that matter, come into and out of our lives, but the two constant presences are ourselves and the Supreme. My spiritual teacher says God is our one true friend, our constant, forever companion. But how often are we nurturing these relationships? How often are we instead taking them for granted?
Won’t you stay? Oh, I have to stay for me? Oh, right.
One of the most powerful messages I’ve gleaned from being in recovery is that I’m in a relationship with my Higher Power. That God is not Santa Claus, rewarding me when I’m good and punishing me when I’m bad. And that just like any other relationship, we need to spend time together to improve it. We need to communicate with one another, to talk and to listen. It’s easy to neglect the relationship because it’s always there, to take it for granted, but I’m reminded again, it’s one of the most important relationships in my life.
The other most important relationship in my life is the one with me. Am I here for me? Am I taking care of me? Am I treating myself like a friend? Saying nice things to myself, encouraging myself, forgiving myself for mistakes? My inclination is to turn outward, to focus on outside relationships, other people, what they’re doing, what they’re saying, how they feel. My meditation practice, however, is about turning inward, asking instead what am I doing, what am I saying, how do I feel?
A few weeks ago I went to a group meditation and I’m the only one that showed up. I know, that sounds weird because if no one showed up then it was solo meditation, but the intention was to meditate with others. I felt so awkward, sitting in a space that belongs to a friend, meditating alone when usually I’m surrounded by others. But then the awkwardness faded as I felt the presence of my Higher Power, and the presence of me. Instead of being by myself, I was with myself. No longer did I feel alone because I had me and I had my Higher Power. It was one of the sweetest meditations I’ve experienced for awhile. So in answer to the question, “Won’t you stay?” the answer is yes, Rebekah, I will.
I dream of a world where we develop the relationships with ourselves and with the divine. A world where we feel the presence of us and something greater than us. A world where we remember we are never alone because we have our one true companion by our side.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This week I had a funny incident take place that showed me just how much of the anxiety I experience is of my own making.
On Tuesday, I sent off a flurry of text messages – to my landlord, a close friend, a new friend, etc. – and didn’t hear back from any of them. Not a single person. I made and received calls, but not a single text message came through. Being the person I am, I went into a tizzy and started imagining the worst: “I’m being a nuisance! They don’t want to be friends anymore! They’re trying to send me a passive-aggressive message!”
Wouldn’t it be cool if we could take certains things out of our heads like taking off a mask?
On the periphery of my brain, I postulated perhaps the people I texted were busy, but I didn’t give that thought much credence because clearly the more plausible theory was the one where everybody decided they wanted nothing to do with me. It may sound ridiculous – and it is ridiculous – but that’s where my brain goes and it takes a lot to convince me otherwise.
I turned off my phone on Tuesday night, still with nary a text, woke up on Wednesday, and had 11 text messages. All of the people I texted on Tuesday had responded to me shortly after I contacted them, but my phone was being weird and I didn’t receive the messages until Wednesday. That’s never happened to me before. All of that worry and anxiety for nothing.
It reminded me that so much of what I’m anxious about never comes to pass. That I put myself in these anxious states by the thoughts I think. It’s easy to say, “Well, think different thoughts!” but I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to become more logical when I feel so illogical. A new practice that I’m trying is to ask myself, “How do I know this is true?” That simple question allows me the space to step back and remind myself, “Oh yeah! I don’t know it’s true. It’s only my thoughts/pictures that tell me so,” and somehow my rational brain is able to come back online. Because really, most of this stuff is in my head.
I dream of a world where we recognize much of what we worry about is only in our minds. A world where we don’t believe everything we think. A world where we’re able to take a step back and ask ourselves for some evidence of the thoughts we think.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This week I felt like a cuckoo bird. Sitting in a room full of boxes in a new place will do that to me. I noticed that because I felt insecure in my living space (i.e., everything was new and disorganized), that also meant my insecurity regarding relationships came up. I think I’ve mentioned before that I’m anxious attachment, which in a nutshell means I feel uncertain in my relationships.
That anxiety and sensitivity was on hyperdrive this week as I found myself spinning out over the tiniest things. For instance, I texted my neighbor and when she didn’t respond right away I started thinking the worst: “She doesn’t want to talk to me! I’m bugging her! She regrets having me as her neighbor!” Of course, that wasn’t true and instead she was just busy, but still. When I’m in that anxious state I take everything personally. I try to read people’s minds and make every action, or inaction, of theirs a reflection on me. I want to modulate my behavior in order to maintain a connection with the person.
What I love about this picture is you think it’s just a drop on a leaf but it’s NOT! Kinda like how if you look closer you see things are between God and us.
Talk about making myself crazy, right?
One of the things that helped me so much with this is a quote misattributed to Mother Teresa. It’s a variant or paraphrase of The Paradoxical Commandments by Kent M. Keith, but I like the inaccurate quote better than the original:
“People are often unreasonable and self-centered. Forgive them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway. If you are honest, people may cheat you. Be honest anyway. If you find happiness, people may be jealous. Be happy anyway. The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway. Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway. For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.”
Ahhhh. I’m breathing a sigh of relief just reading that again. Whenever I try to curb or modulate my behavior, I’m making it between us, when actually it’s between God and me. When I express my love for another, I’m really expressing my love for God in the form of a person, and it’s not up to me whether the person accepts it or not. That part is out of my hands. And because the universe is infinite and creative, it’s quite likely that if the person I’m expressing affection to rejects it, I’ll receive love from some other person. For God, there is no limit and there is no distinction.
What I’m saying is it doesn’t matter if my neighbor doesn’t text me back right away, or some guy rejects me, because it was never between us. It was between God and me anyway, and the more I shore up my relationship with my higher power, the better off I’ll be. The more that I stop taking things so personally and practice forgiveness, kindness, honesty, and service regardless of how people respond, the happier I will be.
I dream of a world where we we see relationships as an expression between God and ourselves. A world where we show up fully regardless of other people. A world where we value our relationship with ourselves because we understand ultimately everything is between God and us anyway.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
“Human beings should base their lives on an ideology. Those without an ideology do not view the world rationally or benevolently, but view it with the greedy eye of an exploiter.” – Shrii Shrii Anandamurtii
I’ve been thinking about the quote above all week, particularly how the “greedy eye of an exploiter” shows up in regards to relationships.
In her book A Return to Love, Marianne Williamson says ego-driven relationships are based on exploitation. “[E]ach one thinks the other has what he has not. They come together, each to complete himself and rob the other. They stay until they think that there is nothing left to steal, and then move on. And so they wander through a world of strangers, unlike themselves, living with their bodies perhaps under a common roof that shelters neither; in the same room and yet a world apart.”
Let’s pursue an ideology the way horses do: Full speed ahead.
Ouch. As much as I hate to admit it, I, too, “rob” others. It’s a pretty common setup, actually. How often are we told to list the qualities we’re looking for in an ideal partner, and how often do we possess those qualities ourselves? I know for me, I usually list things like “lighthearted” and “easygoing” because I want to balance out my serious and intense nature. When I think about Anandamurtii’s quote though, the concept makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want to exploit anyone – I’d much rather freely share my gifts with others, and vice versa, but not feel dependent on someone else so that I may be lighthearted and easygoing.
Miraculously, I am developing the qualities in myself that I seek in others. Right now, I’m looking for a place to live for the millionth, billionth time. Usually, I’m an anxious mess making contingencies after contingencies. This time I’m not worried about it. I have many friends in the area so I know I won’t be sleeping on the street, but more than that, I’m trusting I’ll be taken care of and something will show up.
In another example, I hitched a ride with a friend from LA to Oakland and he said to me, “If I hadn’t driven you, how would you have gotten back?” I responded, “I don’t know.” Because I didn’t. In fact, I didn’t even ask him to drive me, he offered. And if he hadn’t, well, I would have figured it out. My friend was taken aback because here I was unconcerned about the whole thing. I’d say that’s pretty lighthearted and easygoing.
I know I’m focusing on romantic relationships here, but I think the principle applies to other areas as well. Obviously there are times when we need help from others, but how often are we quick to sell ourselves short, believing we can’t do something? How often do we think we need someone else before we’ve first turned within?
I guess what I’m saying here is I want to pursue an ideology, one that doesn’t turn me into an exploiter, but rather someone who views the world rationally and benevolently as Anandamurtii suggests. It hasn’t been easy by any means, but I can’t tell you how rewarding it feels to cultivate the qualities in myself that I seek in others.
I dream of a world where we develop the qualities in ourselves that we search for in others. A world where we turn within more than we turn without. A world where we look for opportunities to serve rather than exploit. A world where we pursue an ideology.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
A band I like, the Downer Party, has a lyric from “Cities” that says, “How can it be that we live with those we love in different cities?” How apt for my experiences of the past week. I’m flying back from the East Coast where I attended a friend’s wedding. It was so lovely — the wedding and the visit.
The bride and groom! How could I not use this picture? I mean really.
It had been at least a year, sometimes years, plural, since I saw some of my friends. We chatted as if no time had passed, falling into familiarity like driving the daily route to work. Despite distance, despite not talking for ages, the love is there, much like I wrote about in “Love from afar.”
And now I’m going back to normal life, which sucks. It seems no matter where I am, I’m going to miss somebody because my loved ones don’t live together in a big hippie commune. I wish I was one of those “smile because it happened” instead of “cry because it’s over” people, but I’m not. I cry. I lament. I ache. But ever the practical person, I’m reminded there’s nothing I can actually do to change all this. And perhaps the feeling of love is what’s most important.
Maybe like I wrote about a few weeks ago, the emotions are more important than the particulars. Maybe it doesn’t matter so much that we live in different time zones, that we don’t speak often, that we don’t know the ins and outs of each other’s daily lives. perhaps what’s most important is the love between us that quite often transcends time and space.
Is it easier to love people who live close by? Of course, but that’s not always possible. Maybe in this day and age of being far flung, I have to content myself with knowing that I love. That love is all there is. That as I reference in the title of this post: “Love, love, love. The end.”
I dream of a world where we love more. A world where we realize love is what’s most important, not how often we see each other or how frequently we talk. A world where we take in Tennyson’s sentiment, “It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.”
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The number of romantic interludes I’ve had is embarrassingly low. Like, so low many of you would be shocked. However, it was pointed out to me the other day the way I talk about places to live, other people talk about romantic relationships. And then it hit me – what other people experience in their dating life, I experience in my home life.
I have moved 32 times (roughly) in 29 years and in that time I’ve experienced a LOT. I’ve had short-term flings (i.e. sublets); I’ve experienced love at first sight – my apartment in San Francisco – which has now turned into a phantom ex, the one I measure all others against. I’ve also had the experience of my love turning into a nightmare and lamenting how it happened – I’m talking about how my San Francisco upstairs neighbor started playing loud music and I didn’t sleep for four months.
Others date people, I date homes. Maybe I could move here, it looks nice!
I’ve moved into places that sounded good on paper, places I liked well enough but didn’t love – like my in-law unit in Balboa Park with a yippy dog – that eventually drove me nuts. I’ve remained good friends with exes, such as places in Washington, D.C., and we catch up every so often. I’ve “dated” apartments with kids (i.e. had a roommate with a child), and savored foreign lovers – there is a hotel in Vienna that I go back to year after year with pleasure.
In my current place, it wasn’t love at first sight, but we liked one another, it had all the qualities I’m looking for, but it turns out my apartment can’t commit. I’m sad to say, my landlady blew up at me unexpectedly and asked me to move out before my lease is up. I do have a lease, so I’m not sure when I’m moving, but at the moment we’re in that awkward space of knowing our “relationship” is coming to an end. In the interim, we are linked due to circumstances.
Not to mention I’ve been on loads of first dates (i.e. going to look at a place after first reading about it on Craigslist), attended tons of parties (open houses), and been rejected countless times. And I find myself wanting places that don’t want me – places that sound so intriguing and perfect but can’t be bothered to give me the time of day. And the reverse – places have wanted me that I haven’t.
The feelings that other people have in romance – the hope, the excitement, the euphoria, the resentment, the disappointment, the anger, the heartbreak – I’ve experienced in finding places to live. I bring this up because I’m a teensy bit ashamed of my paltry dating life, but now I see the universe is infinite and unlimited and so I’m having similar experiences in an unconventional way. Unconventional doesn’t mean bad, it means unusual. It doesn’t mean I’m any less equipped to deal with a partner when he comes along because I’m feeling the same things other people are, just in a different way.
I wrote this post because I find the situation to be funny, but also because maybe you think in some ways you don’t measure up. Maybe you feel ashamed because you’re not having the same experiences other people are having. I’m here to tell you, maybe you are and you’re unaware of it. Maybe life isn’t so much about a route or a path as it is about feelings. Maybe every person is supposed to experience hope, excitement, euphoria, resentment, disappointment, anger, and heartbreak, and it’s the emotions that count, not the particulars.
I dream of a world where we don’t discount our emotions. A world where we stop comparing ourselves to others, always coming up short. A world where we realize feelings count more than circumstances. A world where we embrace our unconventional selves.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’m sick today so I’m reposting something from more than two years ago. Love from afar is on my mind because I’m reuniting with so many friends through weddings and visits that I’m reminded I can still love people even if I haven’t seen them in 10 years.
Last night I went to a party a friend of mine from high school was throwing. I hadn’t seen him in YEARS, as in, possibly six or more, and yet when we saw each other it was like no time had passed. I love those friendships because they illustrate to me the basic truth that love never dies. You can lose contact with someone for years and when you see them again all the old feelings rush back. And that’s the case for romantic relationships as well. That’s probably why so many people get back together with their old flames. I get the warm fuzzies knowing love is one of those things that lasts.
I LOVE this image! How perfect! Copyright goes to Calindi Creations.
Right about now is probably when you’re saying, “Love doesn’t always last.” I think it does, actually. It may just get transmuted into other feelings like anger, resentment, or distaste. But if love wasn’t there, the feelings wouldn’t be either. In my opinion the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s apathy. There’s a reason why we say there’s a thin line between love and hate. If a person is generally the same one we met, there’s a good chance we’ll continue to love them, possibly for eternity. The way my life is going right now it’s nice to hold onto some permanence. I’m not saying I’ll forever be in love with a person, but I do think I’ll forever love them, make sense?
I’m not sure why I’m writing about this except that it really does inspire me. To not see someone for years, to not have any contact with them, and then when they re-enter your orbit to still love and care about them as if they’ve been around all along. Because on some level they have. We’re all connected, we’re all one, so maybe when someone comes into your life they’re always a part of it. And perhaps they’re a part of your life even before you met, you just didn’t know it. I enjoy knowing that love can endure. That even if there were personal issues that kept you apart you can still love someone. That to me is a beautiful thing. It’s an amazing expression of who we are as human beings. It’s an amazing expression of how time doesn’t mean much after all. Of how we’re not as separate as we’re led to believe.
I’m rambling a bit but I’m grateful and I’m inspired because love endures! Itlasts. It’s sweet and precious and doesn’t go away because you’ve lost contact or had a fight or moved. It never left.
I dream of a world where we revel in the notion love endures and that we can love from afar. That we can lose contact with someone and still love them. A world where we understand in many ways time is meaningless. A world where we allow ourselves to give and receive love because we understand that it will last.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I just moved on Friday so I am in no shape to write a blogpost, hence I’m recycling this one from February 2009. Enjoy!
I am the type of person who wants to do things BIG. I want to make a big splash, a big difference, a big impact, etc. A few years ago, I went to Jamaica because I wanted to do big-time service, but when I was there I learned service is the little things too.
I’m starting to believe I can find meaning and purpose in the small things as well.
Last week I would have told you to make difference, to really change the world, requires a best-selling book or a cure for cancer, something like that. Then I started thinking about it. I started burrowing down into the root cause of “making a difference.” Why do I want to write a book? Why is finding a cure for cancer such a big deal? Then it hit me: Duh, it’s because it affects other people! I started to realize the change, the impact comes from the interaction with people. Finding a cure for cancer is only meaningful if people know about it, if the antidote becomes widespread. Writing a book is only helpful if people actually read it and it touches them.
The entire world can be reflected in a moment. This image courtesy of MyEveryDayJourney.net.
As I pondered this, I realized my everyday life has meaning and value beyond the larger things I engage with because of the way I interact with others. Saying please and thank you. Smiling. Acknowledging the homeless woman on the corner. They may seem like small acts, but I’m reminded of a quote by Maya Angelou who said, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Asking the bank teller how her day is going may not be earth-shattering, but she will certainly remember if I’m snarly and impatient.
I’m also reminded that society is made up of individuals and at this moment in time, my scope is small. I interact with a few individuals everyday, so that’s where I make a difference — in how I’m treating those around me. I think it’s really easy to become self-centered and forget that other people want us to ask how they’re doing too. Today I was at the grocery store and a worker asked me how I was doing, to which I retorted, “I’m fine thanks. How are you?” She thanked me for asking her! How simple, but also how powerful? How often are we really listening to one another? How often are we showing up for each other? Meaning, service, and an impact comes not just from becoming the president of the United States, but from calling up a friend when they’re going through a rough time, or driving someone to the airport.
I know I want to do big things, but I guess I’m saying little things help too. And I can find meaning in the everyday.
I dream of a world where we understand how we interact with others is where the difference, the change, the meaning comes from. A world where we realize smiling at the hot dog vendor has merit. A world where we pursue our big dreams while at the same time having sweet and smiling behavior on the day to day level. A world where we find meaning in the everyday.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I didn’t think I was going to write any new material today because I am zonked, but then inspiration hit and I realized I wanted to share this.
Lately, perfectionism and people pleasing have been coming up for me. I’ve held this belief that if I wasn’t perfect, if I wasn’t giving of myself, others wouldn’t continue to like me, wouldn’t want to maintain a relationship with me. There’s been a fear that if I didn’t constantly give my gifts in friendship, people I love would disappear.
A lot of my past work using affirmations has been saying, “Rebekah, I love you for who are,” and that’s great! It’s been so helpful and has completely changed my life. However, right or wrong, I’m at the point now where I want to believe the same is true of friends, i.e. that my friends also love me for who I am, not what I do or give. I know I can’t ask anyone to say these things to me, but perhaps you feel the same and would like to hear it, so I’m going to tell it to you, my readers, my friends, the people I associate with. Here is my open letter to you:
Dear (insert your name here),
I love you for exactly who you are, right now. I love your authenticity, your vulnerability. I love your quirks. I love the things that set you apart from the crowd. I love how you stand up for yourself and how you hold fast to your convictions. I love that you’re willing to be weird because in your weirdness there is you and I love you.
I want to tell you, you don’t have to change for me. You don’t have to be perfect for me. Perfection does not equal love, but humanness does. You’re experimenting in life and so am I and I love you for it. I love that you’re willing to show up for life, to have the courage to keep going even after you make mistakes. I love your boldness.
Please keep being you and please know that if other people don’t like you for who you are, they’re not meant to be in your life. Birds of a feather flock together and you are in my flock. We are meant to stick together, chinks and all.
I love when you’re real with me. I love when you let me in and show me what’s really going on with you. I love when your walls are down, when you’re honest, when you’re crying. That is how I connect with you. I don’t want to see your mask; I can’t click with your mask, so please take it off when you’re with me.
You are a bright, shining light, and I want you to know it’s safe for you to be you, especially around me.
All my love,
Rebekah
I dream of a world where we know we are loved for who we are. A world where we realize the people in our lives love us for us, and if they don’t, the relationship is not serving our best interests. A world where we keep tearing our walls down because our authenticity is what brings about the most love.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve wanted to write about this for a long time so I’m glad the opportunity finally presented itself. According to one theory, there are three relationship styles, also called attachment styles or systems. Usually, when we’re talking about attachment theory it’s in terms of parenting, i.e. how “attached” a child is to a parent. Since attachment theory was developed, researchers have started applying it to all relationships, not just parents and kids.
Here is a brief overview of the three kinds of attachment systems and how they play out:
In the strange situation [an experiment developed to study attachment styles], 12-month-old infants and their parents are brought to the laboratory and, systematically, separated from and reunited with one another. In the strange situation, most children (i.e., about 60%) behave in the way implied by Bowlby’s [the inventor of attachment theory] “normative” theory. They become upset when the parent leaves the room, but, when he or she returns, they actively seek the parent and are easily comforted by him or her. Children who exhibit this pattern of behavior are often called secure. Other children (about 20% or less) are ill-at-ease initially, and, upon separation, become extremely distressed. Importantly, when reunited with their parents, these children have a difficult time being soothed, and often exhibit conflicting behaviors that suggest they want to be comforted, but that they also want to “punish” the parent for leaving. These children are often called anxious-resistant. The third pattern of attachment … documented is called avoidant. Avoidant children (about 20%) don’t appear too distressed by the separation, and, upon reunion, actively avoid seeking contact with their parent, sometimes turning their attention to play objects on the laboratory floor. Source.
Like I said, this applies not only to kids, but to adults as well and comes out most prevalently in romantic relationships. For me, I’ve noticed my attachment system is at work in ALL of my relationships. (If you want to read more about this, and how your “bad luck” with romance could boil down to picking avoidants again and again, I highly recommend picking up Attached or checking out this article.)
How you feel internally is what you project externally and vice versa.
You may have already guessed, but I have anxious attachment. What that means in practical terms is if a friend is late and they haven’t told me they’re running late, I immediately start to feel anxious and envision them lying in a ditch somewhere. I start to fret and am unable to calm down until I hear from said friend.
I’m not nearly as anxious as I used to be because I’ve done a LOT of work on myself to become more secure, but sometimes my anxiety gets the best of me, like this week.
A friend of mine dropped off the face of the Earth for two weeks and at first I was fine with it, but then the thought came into my head that something could be seriously wrong. I am so embarrassed I acted out of my anxiety and sent him an email expressing my concern. Through the process, however, I’ve realized the external is internal.
My anxiety is not really about another person, I’m projecting because I feel insecure. I (unknowingly) flash back to childhood and being rejected or abandoned by my peers. I relive feeling anxious and insecure about getting my basic needs met. Hearing back from the person I’m worried about only temporarily fixes the problem, much like putting a band aid on a wound that requires stitches. The best thing I can do is reframe my past and heal myself.
Instead of replaying how certain people would be my friend and then all of a sudden stop talking to me, I can remember “rejection is God’s protection,” so perhaps those are people I wouldn’t want to be in my life anyway. And I can remind myself of how many friends from my childhood I do have. I have a busload and many of them live in the Bay Area. Sure, I only saw them one or two weeks out of the year at retreats, but the bond is there. Instead of focusing on the few people I never heard back from, I can feel gratitude for so many people who are still in my life. Most importantly, I can create security for myself by affirming I will never abandon myself and that I will always be around to take care of me.
I know this post is quite long, but the point I want to drive home is sometimes we think external things will fix us – if only so-and-so would call we’ll feel better – but we do not control other people and trying to do so only makes us feel crazy. The inner peace we seek only comes about from doing internal work, which is where the real healing is anyway.
I dream of a world where we recognize our external feelings are often projections of our internal ones. A world where we understand the real healing comes from reshaping our internal thoughts and beliefs. A world where we confront our traumas and then release them. A world where we understand to fix our external world we often have to work on our internal one.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
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