Lately, I’m struggling to accept reality. I don’t mean things like the Earth being round, I mean the reality of my life. For instance, a client is one month late on a payment. I haven’t heard a peep despite the repeated telephone calls and emails I’ve sent. Every day I check my bank account hoping the payment has arrived, and when it doesn’t, I call them again, email them again, and still nothing. I’m having a LOT of trouble accepting that situation. And then there’s what happened on Saturday.
My next-door neighbor, the one that lives in a house, hired a construction crew to jackhammer their pool from 9 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. Yes, I used noise-canceling headphones, and yes it helped a lot, but still. Reality was not what I wanted. When I fantasized about how I would spend my Saturday, it was not wearing headphones all day.
For things I don’t enjoy, a part of me says, “No! It’s not supposed to be this way! Something different is supposed to happen!” It’s true I want a different reality, but that doesn’t mean it’s occurring despite my best efforts. If there’s a way for me to will my desire into existence, by golly, I’ll do it. And yet, there comes a point where there’s nothing left to do. There comes a time when you just have to wait for the jackhammer to finish, literally and metaphorically.
I’m waving the white flag, so to speak. Photo by Andrew Neel on Unsplash.
The only time I felt peace on Saturday is when I surrendered, when I stopped fighting reality. When I said, “You know what? This sucks. I don’t like it. But there’s nothing I can do to change it and instead of spending energy wishing things were different, I’m accepting what is.”
I don’t want to sit with pain because it’s well, painful. It’s uncomfortable. I try my best not to feel uncomfortable, but that’s not reality. In reality, life is messy, uncomfortable, it doesn’t go our way. In reality, a client is late on a payment and a jackhammer runs for about six hours. I can’t dictate reality but I can control how much or how little I’m surrendering. There’s a story I like about this.
A professor walked into class one day, held up a cup of water for all to see, and asked, “How much do you think this cup weighs?” The students answered, “50 g! 100 g! 125 g!”
“What would happen if I held the cup like this for a few minutes?” the professor asked.
“Nothing.”
“What would happen if I held it up like this for an hour?”
“Your arm would begin to ache.”
“You’re right. What would happen if I held it for a day?”
“Your arm would go numb, you would have muscle stress and paralysis and have to go to the hospital for sure!” one of the students shouted amid laughter.
“Very good. But during all this did the weight of the cup change?”
“No.”
“Then what caused the arm to ache and the muscle stress?” the professor asked.
The students were perplexed.
“What should I do now to come out of pain?” asked the professor.
“Put the cup down!” said the students.
“Exactly,” the professor replied.
I don’t have a magic wand to make things the way I want them to be, but instead of expending energy stewing in irritation, I can put the metaphorical cup down. I can say, “OK,” and stop fighting. Surrender isn’t sexy in action-oriented cultures, but there’s a reason it’s mentioned so often in spirituality. Surrender usually leads to serenity and that’s certainly something I could use more of. I bet other people could too.
I dream of a world where we accept reality. A world where we understand the wisdom in no longer fighting circumstances, of instead surrendering to what is. A world where we let go of what we can and cultivate a feeling of serenity.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Typically, when I want something, I want it with a fiery passion. I want it intensely, as if my insides are burning and the only way to cool the flames is to get what I want. However, I don’t have a magic wand so it’s very rare that I get what I want when I want it. That means I spend much of my time feeling frustrated and disgruntled. A friend asked me, “How can you make peace with wanting but not having?”
It’s a good question because the reality is I’ll always want something. There will never be a time in my life that I’m perfectly content with every single thing and waiting for that day to arrive before I feel peaceful sounds like a terrible idea.
What comes to mind is a concept in my spiritual tradition that states attraction underpins the universe. Not sexual attraction, just attraction, or a “force acting mutually between particles of matter, tending to draw them together, and resisting their separation,” to quote the dictionary.
This little cutie wants something. I can tell. Photo by Jess Bailey on Unsplash
My spiritual teacher says, “To maintain harmony and balance within the universe, there is a mutual attraction among all objects: each microcosm is attracting the other microcosms. All finite microcosms … are entitled to [God’s] deep universal love with which He has bound each microcosm to Himself and in which His divine ocean of bliss is perennially flowing. Attraction is the innate characteristic of microcosms.”
Attraction is the innate characteristic of all living beings. That means we’re all attracted to something and that “something” is divinity. Knowingly or unknowingly, all living beings are in the process of moving from crudeness to subtlety. They are attracted to a divine center and thus heading closer and closer to pure, divine love, my philosophy states. What that means for me is instead of spinning out because I don’t have a bigger house or a book deal, I can pause, relax, and feel the sweetness of what it means to want something.
To want something, to be attracted to something, is an inherent characteristic of living beings and is a signal that I’m alive, that I’m moving, that I’m being pulled toward a deep, cosmic love. Ultimately what I want is infinite happiness, unlimited happiness, perennial happiness and that sort of happiness never comes from material objects. I’m not advocating for a life of abnegation because I don’t think that’s possible for most human beings, but a little awareness goes a long way.
Having an awareness that the object or experience I’m seeking will buoy my happiness for a little while before I go on to wanting the next thing, means I can acknowledge wanting itself as a sign that I’m alive. “Wanting” transforms into something I can accept, that I can have patience around, instead of a thirst that must be quenched immediately. If I recognize that wanting is a signal I’m moving ahead in life, that I’m on a path from crudeness to subtlety, then suddenly wanting a big house and a book deal but not having them yet doesn’t feel so excruciating.
I dream of a world where we recognize wanting something is a sign that we’re alive. A world where we’re able to make peace with wanting something without having it yet because we recognize ultimately what we’re desiring is perennial happiness, and that doesn’t come from material objects. A world where we understand we’ll always want something and that’s a good thing.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
There’s a show on Netflix with teenagers that each have one magical power. One of the young women has the superpower of empathy. I feel incredulous whenever I think about it. “What?!? Who would write in empathy as a superpower?” I say this as an empath and a highly sensitive person.
Empaths sense subtle energy and absorb it from other people and environments into their bodies. Scientifically speaking, they have hyperresponsive mirror neurons so they deeply resonate with other people’s feelings. For instance, this summer as wildfires raged throughout California, I didn’t sleep well. As soon as the fires were mostly contained, I started sleeping better. It’s complicated because I had my personal worry about the fires, but it was amplified by everyone else’s worry.
A highly sensitive person, or HSP, is someone who has a low threshold for stimulation, needs alone time, is sensitive to light, sound, and smell, and has an aversion to large groups. It also takes HSPs longer to wind down after a busy day because their ability to transition from high stimulation to low stimulation is slower. If you’re interested in determining whether you’re an HSP, you can take a self-assessment test. In case you’re wondering, I answer “yes” to every single question.
This came up when I searched for “sensitive.” Photo by Ermelinda Martín on Unsplash
It turns out high sensitivity affects about 20% of the population. It’s a genetic trait and it’s found not only in humans, but species like primates, dogs, goats, rats, and elk, to name a few. High sensitivity helps the evolution of each species because the highly sensitive ones more easily pick up on changes in the environment that are crucial for survival. They are the ones who first sense there are lions in the bushes for instance, researcher Dr. Elaine Aron tells us. And the nonsensitive ones drive off the lions.
You can be an HSP without being an empath, but that’s not the case for me. It’s challenging because it takes so much freaking effort for me to just live in the world. Things that other people don’t give a second thought – like going to a sports game back when we could do that safely – I have to weigh the pros and cons.
Most of the time, I think of sensitivity and empathy as gifts I’d like to return, but the reality is that doesn’t serve me. These two traits are genetic and I can’t change them any more than I can change my eye color. What’s the solution then? It may sound like a pat answer but the answer is self-acceptance. How do you learn to accept yourself? Oh man, I don’t know. That’s why people have written books and offer courses on the topic. It’s not something you can solve overnight.
A good entry point though is a modified version of the serenity prayer: “Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change about myself, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” From there, trust that the right actions will be shown and that you’ll have the courage to take them.
I dream of a world where we love and accept ourselves. A world where we embrace the uniqueness of every individual whether they’re a highly sensitive person or not. A world where we create space for all people to be themselves without elevating one person or another. A world where we realize humanity is like a garden filled with numerous flowers.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Audio at the bottom.
In about a month I’ll be 30. (One month!) Where I come from, i.e., the South, 30 means you’re married with a child or two and own a house. That is decidedly not my reality; in fact, I’m at the complete opposite end of the spectrum – single, childless, and not even an apartment, much less a house. This is not what I anticipated my life looking like. This is not what I expected for myself.
In October, a friend of mine turned 30 and when I voiced my own apprehensions about turning the big 3-0, she said, “Is life really so bad? Don’t you think you’ve lived well? Aren’t you pleased with the choices you’ve made?” I wouldn’t say I’m pleased, but I would say I think I’ve done the best I could with what I’ve been given.
Let’s pretend this is a birthday sparkler.
It’s painful to grieve for the future that could have been, the Ghost of Christmas Future, if you will, but while I don’t have the house, the kids, or the partner, I still count myself blessed. I’m well-read, well-traveled, and well-loved. By that I mean I am loved by many near and far. I belong to several communities and each of those communities is filled with loving, generous people, for which I’m grateful. Their kindness has brought me to tears over and over again.
I also think about something another friend of mine said to me in college. When I told her someone called me nontraditional, she said, “According to whose traditions?” I love that because she’s right. Whose traditions am I adopting here? Whose expectations am I foisting upon myself? Is anyone except for me judging and criticizing my life for not looking a certain way? To be honest, I think most people are too consumed with living their lives to judge mine.
I also think about a passage that has resonance for me: “[M]y serenity is inversely proportional to my expectations. The higher my expectations … the lower is my serenity. I can watch my serenity level rise when I discard my expectations.” I’ve had many expectations for my life, how it will go, what I expect will happen, and all it has accomplished is to make me sad or frustrated. Perhaps it’s time to discard the expectations and instead trust that as someone said to me a decade ago, I’m nontraditional, and that means I get to make my own traditions.
This post is all about me turning 30, but I hope you find some relevance for your own life. Things rarely work out the way we expect or plan and when that happens, I hope you’ll join me in yelling, “Plot twist!” After all, what great adventure doesn’t have a few surprises?
I dream of a world where we discard our expectations and make our own traditions. A world where we realize our lives may not follow the path we had planned, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. A world where we accept the things we cannot change, have the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
“It’s all my fault. I’m to blame. Why didn’t I do it differently? Why didn’t I know better?” I loooove to play the blame game. I love to have that dialogue in my head (more like diatribe). On Tuesday I went to the physical therapist and looked at myself in the mirror. As I did so I felt like I was to blame for everything wrong with my body. I’m the reason my knees are knobby. I’m the reason my hips hurt. I’m the reason my hair is scraggly. And to top it off, I received outside reinforcement. My physical therapist said to me if I hadn’t sat in the “w” position when I was a child (with my feet behind me and my knees in front of me) my knees would be “normal.” Or my hips wouldn’t hurt if I strengthened my pelvic core.
I’m not blaming her because Lord knows I do that enough to myself. What I’m doing though is asking myself how I benefit. How do I benefit from taking the blame for everything? What do I get from finding fault? The answer is nothing (surprise, surprise). The feeling of blame doesn’t help me change anything. It doesn’t help me solve my problem.
The blame game, especially when I play by myself, keeps me stuck in the problem. I’d rather live in the solution. And sometimes there is no solution. That’s where serenity comes in. Accepting the things I cannot change and changing the things I can. I can’t change the past. I can’t change how my knees grew in. So maybe I can stop blaming myself for how they stick out and instead start accepting and appreciating them for getting me where I want to go. I can choose to love and accept myself as I am or continue to play the blame game. Take me out coach, I’m done.
I used to think blame was a great motivator. “If I chastise myself enough I’ll do something!” Um, no. If I chastise myself enough I’ll feel bad, that’s it. My parents loved to say to me as a child, “You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.” I don’t know if that’s technically true because I catch an awful lot of flies with apple cider vinegar, but I think the concept is sound. Love is a much better motivator than fear. I would do absolutely anything for the people I love. Not so much for the people I fear.
I guess what I’m saying in a roundabout way is blame doesn’t serve me. Blame gives me pain rather than serenity. And serenity is what I’m shooting for these days. I can’t fix my joints but I can strengthen my pelvic core and get a haircut. And I can also look myself in the mirror and accept what I see because it’s much easier to change your mind than it is to change your body. Cheaper too.
I dream of a world where we cut blame out of the equation. A world where we understand blame is useless because it doesn’t help us to solve anything. A world where we each experience serenity, accepting the things we cannot change and having the courage to change the things we can. A world where we live in the solution, asking what we can do about the situation. A world where we know practice love and compassion not only for each other but for ourselves.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.