I am a compulsive doer. It’s hard for me to sit still. I jokingly say I developed maladaptive stress syndrome because I burned out my adrenal glands from doing too much. But maybe it’s not a joke. It should come as no surprise then that I search far and wide for solutions to my problems. I devour every book, every method, every suggestion with frenetic fervor hoping this, this will be the answer. Thus far, the answer has not presented itself. There is nothing worse than telling a compulsive doer there is nothing to be done.
On Wednesday, I went to the doctor again as a Hail Mary. I haven’t had diagnostic tests done for several years so I figured why not? I cried and later laughed as she threw out suggestion after suggestion of things I’ve already tried. In addition, the bevvy of diagnostic tests all came back normal. It has become clear to me this is the end of the road. There is literally nothing left to do because everything has already been done.
I asked myself, knowing I have tried everything, can I finally accept my reality? Can I finally accept things as they are? After many tears, the answer is yes. A weight has been lifted from my shoulders because I no longer need to do anything. All the solutions have been tried. All that I’m left with is acceptance.
Sometimes the answer is counterintuitive, like an oasis in a desert.
Not knowing what I’ve been going through, a friend sent me a podcast from Invisibilia called “The Problem with the Solution.” In it, the show hosts talk about this very concept in the context of mental illness. They traveled to Geel, Belgium, where people with mental ailments live with families and are accepted just as they are. There is no stigma, the families don’t even know the diagnoses. Mental illness is accepted just as it is, and wouldn’t you know it, counterintuitively, people thrive in Geel. That’s not to say the diagnosis vanishes, but it improves.
In the U.S., we are obsessed with solutions. We believe if we look long enough and hard enough, the solution will present itself. But what if it doesn’t? What if there is no solution? What if the solution is accepting things as they are, right now? Please don’t misunderstand, I’m not suggesting people become doormats or tolerate injustice or give up on trying in general, but for the things which we keep trying to fix and are unable to, maybe those things require acceptance.
There’s a story in the Mahábhárata that comes to mind. When Duhshásana was pulling the sari of Draopadii, she was tightly holding the cloth to her body with one hand, beseeching lord Krśńa with the other. “Oh! My lord, save me!” But he didn’t come forward to save her. When Draopadii found no means of escape, she then released her hold on the cloth and appealed to the lord most piteously with both hands outstretched, saying, “O lord, I surrender my all to you. Do what you think is best.” And then the lord immediately rescued her.
I don’t offer that story as a means to get what we want, because surrender and acceptance has to be real, legitimate, and complete without thoughts of what we want, but the story reminds me that when I surrender, release, and let go, that’s when the divine has room to enter into my life.
I dream of a world where we accept the things we cannot change. A world where we understand there aren’t always solutions. A world where we realize instead of doing something, sometimes we need to do nothing.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve blogged once a week for approximately five years. That’s . . . a lot of blogposts. I realize some of you have been reading “Another World is Probable” from the beginning, but quite a few of you haven’t. There are some gems in my archives that I want to highlight and even if you’ve read it before, I figure we can all use a reminder every now and again. I know I could. So, here in its entirety is a post from April 2010:
I used to believe I had to “conquer” my fears. I used to be of the mindset I had to squash doubt flat, or wrestle with my other issues until I won. That I had to assert my will and come out the victor. I realized a while ago that’s not the case at all.
In January I wrote a journal entry I’ve been meaning to share but haven’t yet:
Jan. 27, 2010
I realized tonight this fear is not mine, it doesn’t belong to me. I’ve been trying to take ownership of it. To claim it. To bust through it. To work around it. But it’s like a blind man getting caught tangled in a cloak. I’ve been trying to chew holes in it and rip it apart, but ultimately can’t get rid of it until I just take it off, recognizing it doesn’t belong to me. Because it doesn’t. There’s no use in trying to work with or tame fear – it can’t be tamed. Only released. It was never mine to begin with. It always belonged to God so I give it back to its rightful owner, where God can transmute it into love. That was never my responsibility. My only job was to let it go, to surrender.
I don’t know why this picture makes me think “transcendence” but it does.
While that particular journal entry was about fear I think it can apply to anything and everything. I don’t ever really “work through” my issues so much as release them. Some people would say to me, “Yes, but Rebekah, the only way to get rid of a fear like public speaking is to just go out and do it. Take a class and practice.” I would say let’s take a look at what’s really going on. What happens when we practice something like public speaking? We decide it’s not as scary as we thought. Because we’re doing what scares us, we realize it’s not so bad. We release the fear in our mind. So again, the point of power, the point of change, is in the mind, not the action.
Whenever I talk about surrender and release someone invariably says to me, “Yes but you still have to do stuff. You can’t just sit around.” Sometimes I think we confuse surrender and avoidance. Avoidance is fear-based. When I avoid something it’s because I’m afraid, I don’t want to do it, whatever. If I were to say, “I surrender my fear of public speaking,” and then refuse to speak in public whenever I’m given the opportunity, that’s not really surrendering the fear, is it? That’s avoidance.
Surrender means to release, to let go, to no longer fight. When I surrender fear and doubt I release them to love. I give them to infinite love. I no longer wrestle with them using my ego, or the willful part of me. The part of me that thinks I handle everything by myself, the part of me that thinks I am separate from everyone and everything else. Essentially the part of me that disconnects from all-pervasive love.
When I surrender, when I release, when I let go, I transcend all those issues. I transcend my little “I” and my little “I” issues and instead remember all is love. Instead I remember I am love incarnate.
I dream of a world where instead of “working” on our issues we just let them go. A world where we remember we are divine, magnificent beings, and our true nature is love. A world where we see ourselves for who we really are – embodiments of love. A world where we transcend all that is unlike love and live in a place of peace and harmony.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
When I was in college I took a music appreciation class, which was held in a large auditorium, affording me the ability to easily overhear other people's conversations. One of the women, Caroline, caught my attention because her life sounded so magical. She relayed a story to a friend of hers that while traveling in a foreign country she had a music lesson. She lost the slip of paper with her teacher's address, had no way of contacting him, but took it on faith she would get to her music lesson without any trouble.
On her train ride over, the train lurched and Caroline stumbled into a seat where, guess who, her music teacher was sitting. The friend listening to this story shook her head and said, "Only you, Caroline."
Cool stuff seems to happen on trains.
When I heard this story I bristled with unknown-to-me envy. My first reaction was, "Pbbbt. I can't believe how flakey she sounds. She lost the piece of paper with her teacher's address and didn't have his telephone number?" But underneath that I was insanely envious because I wanted that. I wanted to be able to live a life of total and complete faith that I would be taken care of. That I didn't have to be in control all the time. That I could let go and not worry.
On Friday I spoke to my lifecoach about all this and he said, "Will you make the commitment to trust your higher power?" I hemmed and hawed, and said, "Can I commit to working on trusting my higher power?" He wasn't having it. "You can commit to whatever you want but you know and I both know what you really want is to be able to trust like that. And the only way to do so is to just trust." That is so not what I wanted to hear. I wanted to play it safe, to commit to wading in the pond instead of diving into it. But you know what? I'm tired.
I'm tired of fretting about my life and where I'll live. I'm tired of trying to always control all the outcomes of my life. I'm tired of constantly being "in charge." I'm tired of trying all the time. And I'm tired of living in fear of what's next. I want what I perceive Caroline has — faith and trust in the universe that everything will be OK without the need to worry all the time. I want to feel at ease in my life because I trust in a power greater than myself. I want to let go of my rigid control.
I don't really know how to do that but I'm pretty sure it starts with saying, "I commit to trusting my higher power." I'm pretty sure it starts with at least having the willingness to let some other force take care of it. I'm also sure it's important for me to write about this publicly so I can't take it back. So I can be held accountable. So when I'm flipping out I can remind myself or you can remind me that I committed to trusting the force that guides the stars.
I dream of a world where we all let go of our reins. A world where we take inspired action but we understand we don't need to micromanage our lives. A world where we trust everything will be OK in the end; and if it's not OK, it's not the end. A world where we say, "I can't handle this anymore. You take over."
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
I am very self-willful (some would say controlling) in that I want things to go a certain way. I want people to call me back when I want them to; I want the world to revolve around my needs. Train delays? Miscommunication? No good.
Thankfully, I no longer stay in my controlling state for long because I recognize the futility of it. Instead, I've allowed myself to surrender to the process. To give up my tight grip and accept life on life's terms.
Many of you know I'm currently in Washington, D.C. for a spell (three months or so). The reason I'm here is because if I'd continued with my way of life in San Francisco I would have had a nervous breakdown. I don't mean the tie-me-up-in-a-strait-jacket kind of nervous breakdown, I mean the my-nervous-system-is-so-shot-I-can-barely-function kind.
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| I aspire to be like this guy. |
It's only been a short time since I left SF but I can already feel the difference — I'm not in as much fear, I don't startle as easily, and I'm becoming more tolerant of noises. (More being the operative word here.)
I'm not sure what I want to express in this post except that it's important to let go of our wants sometimes in order to receive what we need. It would be very easy for me to lament I no longer live in San Francisco, to continue to compare my life here with the one I left behind, but then I miss out on all the good D.C. has to offer. The more I compare, the more I resist the flow of life. And the flow of life is taking me to good places. For one, I am incredibly blessed that my friends have made it easy to come back to the East Coast. It's been a smooth transition in that whenever I go to parties a whole roomful of people are excited to see me, and there's nothing sweeter than that.
There are so many benefits to being here for now, it's important for me to stay here now, meaning live where my feet are. I have no idea what the next few months will bring (I never do) but I find especially in uncertain times I need to surrender to the process. To give myself over to the divine mystery and accept there are forces at work that I don't fully understand. I don't have to have all the answers. I don't have to plan the minutia of my life. I only have to let go of my will to see all the options before me.
I dream of a world where we let go. A world where we give into the process of life. A world where we accept we don't always know what's best for us. A world where we take life as it comes and trust it will take us where we need to go next.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
I didn't write a blogpost last night because I was at Rosh Hashanah services and didn't come home until late. One line in particular during the service jumped out at me, "Cast away your sins." I don't like the word "sins" because it dredges up notions of heaven and hell and judgment, but I do believe in casting away troubles.
This has been quite a whirlwind week, and year, for that matter. Last night I looked down at my body and noticed the numerous black and purple bruises that were war wounds from moving on Saturday. (Moving: It's a dangerous business.) But I'm OK with them because they will fade. They are mementoes from a time now past. Now that the dust has settled and I'm out of my hellacious apartment, I'm sighing in relief. In fact, just now I took a big exhale.
What I love about Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year for those of you who don't know) is it's a reminder to start over. To cast away our troubles and leave our past behind. I am certainly ready to leave this year behind. I am ready to turn over a new leaf and revel in the healing and the miracles that are sure to come.
Even if you're not Jewish, I highly recommend a ceremony or a ritual to mark the end of a period of trouble and a celebration of something new. We all need a chance to shrug off our troubles, but even more so, to celebrate the good that is to come.
I don't have much to say because I think it's already been said. From September of last year to September of this year life has been pretty crappy. Good things have certainly happened but I'm ready to start living well again. I'm ready to let go of my old ideas and my old belief systems and to be reborn. I look forward to reconnecting with old friends and making new ones. I look forward to adventure and healing and grace. I'm casting away my troubles and making room for the miracles that are yet to come.
I dream of a world where we let go of our troubles. Where we let them go because we know they are being handled as long as we keep showing up for life and remain willing to take the next right, wise action. I dream of a world where we know we can start over at any time, at any point of the day, week, or year. I dream of a world where we are in the ease and flow of life.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
The force I reference in this title is not the Star Wars kind, but rather the kind that’s inside your head and probably a little mean. The force that’s in opposition to gentleness.
I like to force myself to do things all the time. “I don’t feel like walking all the way home, but I’m going to force myself because I need the exercise.” “I don’t want to go out tonight, but I’m going to force myself because I need to be social.” The list could go on. I usually force myself because I have the best of intentions, but do you see how in forcing myself there’s opposition? There’s the “I” that doesn’t want to do something, and then there’s the “I” that makes me anyway. I think it’s probably my ego trying to exert control because, well, that’s what the ego does.
What I’m noticing lately though is I’d rather be in complete alignment with myself. I’d rather treat myself with love and gentleness because also, I realize eventually I’ll have the willingness to do what I need to do. But instead of forcing myself, I’ll just want to.
Let me back up. When I first started meditating it was suggested to me I needed to meditate twice a day every day. I would force myself for about two weeks before my routine petered off and I just couldn’t anymore. My willpower deflated. Then my senior year of college I wanted to meditate that frequently just for my sanity. What with all the stress of graduating, living with roommates, and entering the “real” world I wanted to meditate every day, twice a day just so I could get through. That’s how it is with me. It’s the same way with yoga. My teacher came to me in a dream and told me to practice my yoga postures and I refused. Because I didn’t want to. Then three years ago, all of a sudden I wanted to, so I did.
I bring this up because today I went swimming for the first time in probably three years and it was glorious. I smiled to myself and skipped down the street on the way to the pool because, “I was going swimming! I was going swimming!” Prior to today I tried to force myself to go. To somehow work swimming into my already busy schedule, but it just wasn’t happening. And now it has.
I’m not sure I’m making sense, but I guess my point is I don’t have to force myself to do anything – not even brush my teeth – because I know one day, someday, I’ll want to do those things. And it’s true. I want to brush my teeth twice a day and floss every night. I don’t ever have to use force with myself. I don’t ever have to do things I don’t want to as long as I’m willing to live with the consequences, like cavities, or whatever the case may be. Eventually my want and my willingness always line up. So I don’t have to worry. I don’t have to contemplate adding a kung fu class to my life or learning bookkeeping or whatever the other million things are that I think are good for me that I “should” be doing. I just don’t. Eventually the willingness always manifests. And if it doesn’t, perhaps I’m not meant to engage.
I feel so much more at ease knowing I don’t have to ever rely on my ego or the “should” voice because everything lines up. The time, the willingness, the money. It all comes together in a magical package where force doesn’t come into play. So I can relax and let go, and instead allow myself to live in harmony.
I dream of a world where we all allow ourselves to be where we are. A world where we recognize eventually, if we’re supposed to, we’ll find the willingness to do the task at hand. A world where we can relax, knowing all is well.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
“The battle is over and I lost.” All day I’ve been thinking about what I want to write. There are so many things that occurred to me but in the kitchen just now I realized all I can do is be honest. While this blog is all about how I see a new world developing, ultimately it takes the form of sharing my personal journey, my personal transformation, in the hopes it will spark something within someone else.
So the battle is over and I lost. What do I mean by that? I mean since birth I’ve pushed and prodded myself to be a certain way – more patient, more perfect, more brave, more serene – and I really thought I could do that for myself. I really thought I could take charge of my problems and make myself something different. I thought I could make myself less obsessive. That I could take away my character defects.
The form has changed over the years. It started with meditation, thinking I could meditate it away. “If only I meditated more then I would be less crazy.” Well that didn’t work because as soon as I opened my eyes all the crazy came rushing back. Then I thought I could say affirmations and make myself different. And it worked to a degree, albeit slowly. And then I wanted it to go faster so I started EFT and that helped as well. And then I wanted to go even faster and started listening to Abraham Hicks and forcing myself to feel better by imagining what it would be like if I were more serene, if I were to have everything I wanted. I forgot one very important thing: there’s also a power outside of me.
Call it God, call it higher power, call it the Universe, call it whatever. It’s there. I know some people don’t believe in that sort of thing, and that’s cool, but honestly, some things are magical and mysterious and it sure as heck ain’t me.
I’ve made peace with the fact my will will never be done. If I’m lucky it will line up with my higher power’s, but ultimately my higher power gets the last word. I’ve made peace with the fact I can’t think myself out of problems, that I can’t make myself be something that I’m not. That try as hard as I might, I can’t force myself to be less obsessive, or more patient, or less fearful. There has to be something bigger than me to handle all of that. It’s only by the grace of God that I’m able to have a reprieve.
I guess this is me giving everything to my higher power, including my thoughts. Not just my life and how it works out, not just the external things. But all of me, mind, body, and soul. I am turning over all the crazy that is within me, all the obsession, all the compulsion, all the ugly things I’d rather not examine. I’m giving everything I have to my higher power because you know? I will never win. I will never be able to do those things for myself. I will never be able to cure myself of my afflictions without the grace of an eternal, loving presence. I just won’t. The battle is over and I lost.
I dream of a world where we know it’s safe to open ourselves up to a power greater than ourselves. A world where we allow our higher power to come in and relieve us of our afflictions. A world where we recognize we are only able to do what we can do through the grace of God. A world where we surrender ourselves completely to an eternal loving presence in body, mind and soul.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Right now I’m feeling really contracted about money. I’m feeling contracted about money because I spent more this month than I usually do. And so with the help of Mint.com I created a budget spending plan. But my knee-jerk reaction is, “Oh my god! I’m spending too much! The answer is to move out of my apartment!” Now, anyone will tell you I LOVE my apartment. My apartment always goes on my gratitude list because not only do I love the apartment, I love the location and I love my community in my apartment building. Heck, I know all the neighbors on my floor by sight. And not only that, I am friends with the people across the hall. I feel so blessed to be here. So why am I feeling the urge to move?
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.”
I used to believe I had to “conquer” my fears. I used to be of the mindset I had to squash doubt flat, or wrestle with my other issues until I won. That I had to assert my will and come out the victor. I realized a while ago that’s not the case at all.
In January I wrote a journal entry I’ve been meaning to share but haven’t yet:
Jan. 27, 2010
I realized tonight this fear is not mine, it doesn’t belong to me. I’ve been trying to take ownership of it. To claim it. To bust through it. To work around it. But it’s like a blind man getting caught tangled in a cloak. I’ve been trying to chew holes in it and rip it apart, but ultimately can’t get rid of it until I just take it off, recognizing it doesn’t belong to me. Because it doesn’t. There’s no use in trying to work with or tame fear – it can’t be tamed. Only released. It was never mine to begin with. It always belonged to God so I give it back to its rightful owner, where God can transmute it into love. That was never my responsibility. My only job was to let it go, to surrender.
While that particular journal entry was about fear I think it can apply to anything and everything. I don’t ever really “work through” my issues so much as release them. Some people would say to me, “Yes, but Rebekah, the only way to get rid of a fear like public speaking is to just go out and do it. Take a class and practice.” I would say let’s take a look at what’s really going on. What happens when we practice something like public speaking? We decide it’s not as scary as we thought. Because we’re doing what scares us, we realize it’s not so bad. We release the fear in our mind. So again, the point of power, the point of change, is in the mind, not the action.
Whenever I talk about surrender and release someone invariably says to me, “Yes but you still have to do stuff. You can’t just sit around.” Sometimes I think we confuse surrender and avoidance. Avoidance is fear-based. When I avoid something it’s because I’m afraid, I don’t want to do it, whatever. If I were to say, “I surrender my fear of public speaking,” and then refuse to speak in public whenever I’m given the opportunity, that’s not really surrendering the fear, is it? That’s avoidance.
Surrender means to release, to let go, to no longer fight. When I surrender fear and doubt I release them to love. I give them to infinite love. I no longer wrestle with them using my ego, or the willful part of me. The part of me that thinks I handle everything by myself, the part of me that thinks I am separate from everyone and everything else. Essentially the part of me that disconnects from all-pervasive love.
When I surrender, when I release, when I let go, I transcend all those issues. I transcend my little “I” and my little “I” issues and instead remember all is love. Instead I remember I am love incarnate.
I dream of a world where instead of “working” on our issues we just let them go. A world where we remember we are divine, magnificent beings and our true nature is love. A world where we see ourselves for who we really are – embodiments of love. A world where we transcend all that is unlike love and live in a place of peace and harmony.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.