I found out recently in China if a woman is unmarried by age 27, she’s called “sheng nu,” or “leftover woman.” And if you’re 30 and unmarried? Forget it. Life’s over. That’s literally what these women are told. The whole thing makes my blood boil.
I think what pisses me off most of all is the notion that if a woman has a Master’s degree, or is successful in her field, or if she’s helping others and just generally being a good human, she’s still considered “less than” all because she doesn’t have a ring on her finger. Are you kidding me? When did our worth become defined by our relationship status? When did getting married become the most important metric?
It should be noted here I’m not anti-marriage. I’ve been to about 20 weddings in the past 10 years and am currently at one this weekend. I love weddings. I love marriage. But I do not love the idea that somehow a person is “left over” if they’re still single by a certain age. I say this to myself, too. There’s a part of me that asks, “What’s wrong with me that I’m still single?” I have imagined conversations with people justifying why I’m not married because even internally, I feel a twinge of shame that at my age, 32.5, I’m unmarried. However, hearing about these women in China who are harassed and shamed by their families on a regular basis for being single put me over the edge.
Some of us may never get here, or not get here by a certain age, and that’s OK.
This is not a post where I say there’s nothing wrong with being single, or that there’s a pot for every lid, that eventually we all meet our match. No. This is a post where I fume at patriarchy, which is the precise system that dictates a woman is worthless if she isn’t married. I realize some men feel this way too, but in articles about unmarried Chinese men, it’s couched as a supply issue – too few women – whereas in articles about Chinese women, it’s couched as some unfortunate mystery. That somehow it’s the woman’s fault she’s still single. That my friends, is patriarchy.
My spiritual teacher says, in society the value of a woman is not an iota less than that of a man. And furthermore, every human being is a divine child of God – both the unmarried and the married. That means I could be single until my dying days and my value would not be any less. That means I could be single forever and still do great and worthwhile things. My worth does not go up and down depending on my relationship status, and neither does yours.
I realize some people will still look at me and ask, “Why is she still single? What’s wrong with her?” I can’t do anything about that, but I can do something about my internal dialogue. I can remind myself I’m amazing with or without a partner. And I can do my part to extricate myself from a system that works to make me feel inferior because I’m single. I’m not inferior and neither is anyone else, regardless of their romantic situation.
I dream of a world where we realize our relationship status doesn’t define our value. A world where we recognize shaming people for being single is just another form of oppression, of subtly saying they’re only worth something if they’re attached to someone else. A world where we realize we are fantastic and amazing human beings whether we’re in a relationship or not.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This weekend I saw Wonder Woman and loved it. Something about watching a female superhero really got to me in a way I didn’t expect. I started tearing up. As I teared up, I was reminded this has been a long time coming. Not only the movie, which it has, but more importantly, equality for women, which we’re still working on.
Last year I would have told you things aren’t perfect, but we as a society have progressed far in terms of equal rights for women. This year I can say that statement is both true and not true. It’s true women no longer need a husband to open up a credit card account (which wasn’t the case until 1974, by the way), but at the same time, we also earn less than men. And the amount is far less for women of color. Also, I can’t pretend women are treated fairly in the U.S. when our current president was recorded as saying as a star, he can do anything, he can grab women by the pussy. Neither can I pretend women are treated fairly in the U.S. when the penalty for sexual assault is so lenient. It’s obvious many in power think of women as inferior beings.
I look forward to the day when we can all shine like we’re meant to.
At the same time, I have to admit not everyone in power thinks of women as inferior, and we have more women in positions of power not only in politics, such as Prime Minister Theresa May and Angela Merkel, but business as well, such as Sheryl Sandberg and Arianna Huffington. What I find baffling is what many don’t seem to grasp, is the better life is for women, the better life is for everyone. I don’t mean that in the sense, “Happy wife, happy life.” I mean, when women are educated, society flourishes.
My spiritual teacher says, “Ideally, women should also move with their own strength and with the same speed as their male counterparts. In the process of movement, if they feel pain in their legs, if they fall on their faces, they should be physically lifted up. The fact is that we must move together in unison with all.” Moving together in unison with all means we all go far. If men are allowed to dominate and demean, we as a society are like a bird flying with one wing.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying women should have equal rights only because it means we all benefit. All human beings should have equal rights. I don’t understand why it’s even a question. My teacher also says, “Women should have as much unbarred liberty to enjoy the light, air, earth, and water like children of nature as men have. In fact, it is not a case of granting rights to women, it is a case of recognizing their rights.”
We already have rights that are not recognized. What will it take for those rights to be recognized? I’m not sure, but I am confident the old ways of thinking will crumble into dust. Just as the Wonder Woman movie was finally made, eventually all women will have equal rights. It will take time, but it will happen. One more quote to end on: “Let women be the vanguard of a new revolution which humanity must achieve for a glorious tomorrow.”
I dream of a world where women lead a revolution that achieves a glorious tomorrow. A world where women’s inherent rights are recognized. A world where all women everywhere shake off the slumber of dogma and inferiority, breaking the shackles that chain them. A world where women wake up to the true magnificence of who they are.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Lately I’ve been thinking about the power of language. The way it builds bridges or constructs walls. And how it shapes our perspective, often in subtle ways. For instance, there is a huge difference in calling someone a rape victim versus a rape survivor. One is more passive, connoting power over, whereas the other connotes someone who endured hardship and continues to live.
Part of my musings were inspired by this article about George Lakoff. He suggests people vote with their values and thus words matter. For instance, there’s a different connotation between “federal regulations” and “federal protections.” Regardless of where a person falls on the political spectrum, it’s obvious to me words are powerful and shape the direction of a conversation and often the outcome.
I’m with you kid. Books are amazing.
It’s not only the words we use to describe something, its names too. Names mean something and the more we call a person their name, the more they embody it. For instance, in Sanskrit, if a person is named “Madhu,” which means “honey,” or “sweet,” they start to become more sweet. They develop the qualities of the name. Names are powerful, as we know, but often forget. What we call people matters. How we describe people matters. Both for the person and for us, because it determines the lens through which we view the person. For instance, I could look at a person and think “criminal” or I could think “disadvantaged.” Each will lead me down a different path. For the criminal, throw them in jail, make ’em pay. For the disadvantaged, provide help and resources.
It’s important to choose with care our words. I’m reminded of a yogic concept I’ve written about before: satya. It implies proper action of mind and the right use of words with the spirit of welfare.
My spiritual teacher says, “Humans are rational beings: They possess in varying degrees the capability to do what is necessary or good for humanity. In the realm of spirituality, such thought, word, or action has been defined as satya.”
I guess to me that means it is our responsibility to use language in such a way that it engenders the all-around welfare for everyone. It is our responsibility to use language so that we start moving together in a direction that means everyone is living better. Because language is powerful and the more we recognize that and utilize it for the benefit of all, the better off we’ll all be.
I dream of a world where we recognize the power of language and we use it to make lives better for everyone. A world where we use language to unite rather than divide. A world where we choose our words with care.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I detest the saying, “There’s no such thing as an original idea. Every idea worth having has been had thousands of times already.” Funnily enough, I can’t find who to attribute that statement to. Does that make the notion itself unoriginal because it doesn’t belong to one person? Moving on. . .
I loathe the concept there are no original ideas because I long for recognition and credit. If I have an idea, I want people to attribute it to me, and I get upset if someone else has the same idea independent of me. Childish, I know, but there we are. When I think about my spiritual philosophy though, things make more sense.
We are all kaleidoscopes making unique shapes and combinations.
One metaphor that’s been used in my spiritual philosophy is God is like the moon and each of us are like mirrors, reflecting the moon. We all have the same original image, but how it shows up on our mirrors is different. Some mirrors are speckled or cracked. Some mirrors are cloudy or clear. The originality, the origin, if you will, is the moon, but the way the moon is reflected in the mirror is unique.
When looking up the attribution for the no-original-ideas concept, I stumbled across a quote from Mark Twain that fits. He wrote:
There is no such thing as a new idea. It is impossible. We simply take a lot of old ideas and put them into a sort of mental kaleidoscope. We give them a turn and they make new and curious combinations. We keep on turning and making new combinations indefinitely; but they are the same old pieces of colored glass that have been in use through all the ages.
We human beings are like that – we keep making new and curious combinations. My work is to understand just because we keep using the same old pieces of colored glass, doesn’t mean the new combination is any less valuable or beautiful or worthy.
Someone told me once, “There may be a thousand youtube videos out there about how to make a green smoothie, but mine may be the one a particular person sees that encourages them to actually make it.”
Bottom line for me is it’s likely I’ll say the same thing someone else says or vice versa, but it doesn’t mean I should stop saying it because I am a unique and special, individually crafted mirror full of interesting speckles and discolorations reflecting the moon in a certain way. I am a kaleidoscope of colors. We all are.
I dream of a world where we understand we may never be the first or last person to say or do something, but that doesn’t mean our contribution is any less valuable. A world where we understand we are reflecting the same thing, but the way the reflection appears is unique. A world where we embrace we are all kaleidoscopes.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Lately I find myself wading deeper and deeper into the realm of emotion. That may sound funny because people often describe me as “emotional,” but what I mean is instead of flirting with an emotion, I’m embracing it. The despair, the anger, the disappointment. All of it. Not only am I embracing my feelings, I’m also no longer trying to fix them.
For me, whenever I felt really down, or lonely, for instance, I turned to something to make myself feel better: I called a friend, turned on the TV, picked up a book. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with those activities, but they became compulsions, ways for me to avoid diving deep. To avoid the emotional pain of fully embodying my emotions. These days I’m learning to sit with my feelings, no matter what they are.
These days I’m embracing everything, even the prickly bits.
Matt Licata, a psychotherapist, has a blog I read every couple of weeks. In one blogpost he wrote:
[T]he question during these times is: Are you going to use these reorganizing and shattering experiences as vehicles though which to befriend yourself, to attune to the unprecedented flow of feeling with you, and to weave a sanctuary for the wisdom-pieces of the broken world to be held and illuminated? Or, will you fall back into your habitual, conditioned history, attack yourself, your tenderness, and your sacred vulnerability, spinning into the habitual fight-flight urgency of shame, blame, resentment, and self-aggression?
In another he wrote:
The invitation is into intimate communion: to move closer, and even closer still, into the feelings, the emotions, and the sensations as they surge. To surround the surging material with curiosity, warmth, and most importantly with kindness, as an inner explorer of the galaxy of your own body, of which there is no temple more sacred.
Communion. Yes, that’s what I long for. And communion means befriending my pain, befriending my sorrow, befriending my disappointment. Every cell of my being longs for love, and that means the pain, the sorrow, and the disappointment too. In my journey toward wholeness, toward the divine, I must embrace everything within me.
In my spiritual practices, we view everything as an expression of an infinite loving consciousness, and that means me too. Not only the me in this physical form, but the internal me as well. The one that feels pain, the one that feels lonely, the one that feels disappointment.
These days I’m practicing loving those parts too and I have that wish for others as well.
I dream of a world where we embrace all parts of ourselves. A world where we feel every emotion as it arises. A world where we sit with our pain because we recognize it, too, is divine.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The other week I posted a news story on facebook with commentary that I have compassion for robbers and the robbed, and was met with so much vitriol it astounded me. People I didn’t know called me a moron (and worse), told me to get off of facebook, etc. What I heard over and over again was, “I’m poor and I’ve never robbed anyone.” That’s great! I’m glad there are poor people that don’t rob others. Keep not robbing.
What strikes me is how me-centered that viewpoint is. There is an inherent expectation that we all act a certain way, but guess what? We don’t. And placing so much onus on the individual doesn’t work. I’m reminded here of the recently passed healthcare bill in the House of Representatives. The terms of the bill are ludicrous in my opinion. “Have you ever been sick? Are you a woman? So sorry, no healthcare insurance for you or you’ll have to pay staggering premiums. Good luck with that.”
We are all a part of the human family.
Indian philosopher and economist P.R. Sarkar said, “Rich people do not want to consider the needs of the poor, because if they do, they will have to make some sacrifices. Where will their luxuries and comforts come from if hunger does not burn the bellies of the poor?” Our capitalistic society encourages this mindset, encourages us to look out only for ourselves, and try to scramble to the top of the heap by declaring, “I worked hard for this so I earned it!” Yes, but that means the suffering of others continues. It’s easy to dismiss, to say the people in that position just didn’t work hard enough, or try hard enough, or act the right way, or whatever. There are a thousand excuses we could give.
Sarkar said, “[T]o admit that these sufferings are the result of social injustices implies that everyone is responsible.” And that’s the thing, we are all responsible. We are all responsible for each other. The human family includes everyone. I’ve quoted this African proverb before, but it’s pertinent so I’m quoting it again: “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.”
I want to go far. I long to go far. How do we do that? What can little ole me do from her apartment here in California? It sounds cheesy as all get out, but one of the answers is love. I’ll close with another quote from Sarkar:
Like any other problem, great or small, there is only one way to solve economic problems, and that is through genuine love for humanity. This love will give people guidance; it will show them what to do and what not to do. It is not necessary to study great numbers of books or to rely upon those who speculate with the future of the silent masses. The only essential requirement is to look upon humanity with genuine sympathy.
I may not be a politician, I may not be an economist or a philanthropist or a CEO, but I sure as heck can love humanity. I can have compassion and sympathy and empathy for those around me. I can keep loving people even through their missteps. I can keep spreading love and embodying love and talking about love even when people call me foolish. And I will.
I dream of a world where a genuine love for humanity is awakened in all of us. A world where we all look out for each other. A world where we understand our progress is linked to those around us. A world where we understand the human family includes everyone and we act accordingly.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Years ago I read an interview about James Franco’s childhood. When he found out he would die one day, he cried because there were so many things he wanted to do and he didn’t think he’d be able to accomplish them all in his lifetime. I relate, but not exactly in the same way. Yes, there is a lot I want to see and do, but my predominant feeling is that I’m behind. If life were a race, my perception is I’d be losing.
In 12-step communities, we’d say I’m engaging in “compare and despair.” That is, I’m comparing my life to someone else’s and coming up short. It’s true, I am engaging in that sort of behavior, but it’s more than that. I feel pressured. I feel pressured to go out there and get what I want. To seize the day, to grab the bull by the horns, to not waste a moment of my life. Pick an aspirational cliché: It applies. And if I haven’t, if I’m not growing, progressing, or achieving, then I perceive myself as wasting my day, and in turn, my life.
I like this picture because it shows time, but also beyond time.
Friends, I’m exhausted. It’s exhausting having this kind of attitude, to try and beat the clock. How many times have we all heard, “Do it now because you never know how much time you have left”? I need to start operating my life as if I have all the time in the world. As if I were eternal. The alternative is what I’m currently experiencing: feeling rushed, anxious, and frustrated. I can’t go on like this. Instead of living like I could die tomorrow, I need to live like I’ll die when I’m 120. I say this because I’m the type who would be hospitalized for exhaustion, not the type who constantly says, “Some day. . .” and “some day” never comes.
My body is screaming for rest right now and I don’t get any rest if I’m constantly putting pressure on myself to live as if I’ll die tomorrow. I don’t get any rest if I feel like everything needs to be accomplished NOW. I need to start believing all the dreams in my heart will come true, but not tomorrow, and that’s OK because I have time. I also think it’s a part of spiritual practice to contemplate the qualities I associate with the divine, which my spiritual teacher corroborates. He says:
“The wise do not absorb themselves in the glitter and glamour of the fleeting entities of this transitory world. They focus all the zeal of their hearts upon the Eternal Principle that is the original cause behind these moving entities. Ensconced behind every change is the One Who Witnesses every transitory entity deep within that Supreme Entity, who is the only entity. The truly wise should contemplate and worship [that entity].”
It may not work for everyone, but for me, right now I need to contemplate the One Who Witnesses every change. I need to contemplate my eternal nature, the one who views time as merely a marker, rather than a race. I need to believe there is time enough for everything.
I dream of a world where we strike a balance between activity and inactivity. A world where we slow down. A world where we get in touch with the eternal part of ourselves. A world where we believe we will accomplish all the things we wish to accomplish, but maybe not in the time frame we’d like. A world where we realize there is time enough.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This weekend was Earth Day and my mom’s birthday and right now I’m sick, so all I can think about is “Mom.” When I think of my mom, moms in general, and Mother Earth, I think “sacrifice.” So often “sacrifice” is a dirty word. No one wants to do it. “Sacrifice something for the greater good? Uh, no thanks, ask someone else please.”
I’ve heard before “sacrifice for the greater good,” but I didn’t really know what it meant. Sure, sounds great, but what does that mean? Back in 2011, I started watching the television show Lost and understood the concept. What follows is a post from that time period.
It occurs to me how sacrifice is one of the highest forms of love. To give of yourself in order to serve others is one of the most noble things a person can do. It’s also something I associate with other people – soldiers, parents, but not me. Parents sacrifice for their kids by making them dinner even when they’re tired. By choosing to spend money on their children instead of themselves. By staying somewhere just because the schools are good. I always figured I would pay back the sacrifices others have made for me when I became a parent, but I’m seeing now that’s living in the future, something I don’t want to do.
Sacrifice can mean love.
Ultimately, sacrifice means undergoing hardship for the sake of others, which in Sanskrit is called tapah. I sacrifice when I give up my seat on the bus even though I’m dead tired, or when I donate money to charity even though I’m struggling financially. And I want to sacrifice because it’s the highest expression of love.
Sacrifice means, “I love you so much I’m willing to undergo hardship for you.” It’s a way of saying, “In this moment, I’m placing your needs before my own.” That is true love right there. And that’s why I choose to sacrifice, because I love the divine and I want to serve the divine expressed in human form.
I love the people in my life so I’m willing to suffer a little bit for their benefit. I also know it’s important for me to practice balance with sacrifice just as with other things. Too much sacrifice means I’m not honoring myself or letting other people express their love for me. And love is the most magical, beautiful, precious gift we can ever give one another.
I dream of a world where we all understand the beauty of sacrifice. A world where we’re willing to undergo hardship for the benefit of others. A world where we express our love for each other by giving of ourselves. A world where we show other people just how important they are to us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I spent this weekend with dear friends of mine and all I could think was, “Thank God.” When the world feels like too much, when I recoil in horror after reading the news, good company lifts my spirits. In Sanskrit, the word for that is satsaunga. What follows is a post I wrote about the subject nearly six years ago.
This weekend I had the good fortune of being surrounded by folks who practice the same yoga and meditation I do. We are all close in age with only 10 years between the eldest and the youngest. It was a delicious weekend because we had excellent food, but also because it was one of the rare times I was surrounded by a large group of people who are similar to me. Sure, I’ve been to tons of yoga and meditation retreats, but it’s not as if I’m friends with everyone there like at the gathering this weekend.
Pictured is a flock of starlings.
Experiences like these give me hope for the future. If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you know I had a rough childhood socially. I had friends, but most of them lived far away. I suffered from a lot of peer rejection and self-defined as the “weird” kid. Not because I ate paste or anything, but because I’m extremely sensitive to energy and cared about things like vegetarianism as an 8 year old. “Weird” is a title I’ve carried with me for much of my life. Inherent in “weird” is not fitting in or being an outsider. I’ve been shifting my focus away from that because I see how viewing myself as “weird” has been harmful. This weekend was a prime example because I didn’t feel out of place – I realized it just took me a while to find my flock; as in “Birds of a feather flock together.”
Speaking of birds flocking together, I’m reminded of this video by Sophie Windsor Clive who filmed a flock of starlings. It’s awesome in the truest sense of the word and captures the power and the beauty of belonging.
I know there’s a lot of talk about the necessity of cross pollination, of mixing different classes, races, and mindsets, which I completely agree with, but there’s also something to be said for being with people who get you. People who already have a shared understanding of where you’re coming from so there’s no need to explain things to them. People who love and support you and just want to see you happy. It’s a beautiful and touching thing, that sort of community. That’s what inspires me most: Someone like me who constantly defined herself as “different” found herself around other “different” people. Like those starlings who created new shapes by flying together, when people join in groups, beautiful things can happen. Because ultimately even the “loners” and “freaks” will find others like them. It may just take a while. In essence, no one is as alone as they think they are. And when a bird finds its flock, there’s great power in that.
I dream of a world where everyone feels a sense of community and belonging. A world where every person has a support network. A world where no one has to fend for themselves because we are all taking care of each other. A world where we can all live happy, joyous, and free. A world where we all fly with a flock that fits us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Several years ago, I wrote a post for Quarterlette.com called “Opportunity will beat down your door.” It’s a cheery and inspirational post about my move to San Francisco, explaining opportunity doesn’t knock once, it will beat down your door. In other words, there are certain things the universe will keep throwing in your face over and over again.
Right now I’m experiencing the shadow side of opportunity beating down my door. For years, the message I’ve received over and over again is, “You need to rest.” My response was, “By rest, you mean do more, right? You mean I need to try harder?” This week it became clear to me it’s time to listen to the message the universe is telling me. I can’t keep operating my life at the pace I have been, and instead of doors opening for me, they’re closing, forcing me to rest. Not for punishment, not to be mean, but to become more perfect.
Perfect.
That may sound strange, particularly because our conception of perfection at least in the U.S. is without flaws, but that’s not what I’m referring to here. Did you know an early definition of perfect is, “Brought to consummation or completeness?” That’s coming from the1913 Webster’s Writers’ Dictionary, by the way. I love this concept for many reasons. The first is I’m a one on the Enneagram, so I’m all about finding holy perfection, but second, the definition relates to my post from last week about moving from the crude to the subtle.
In our move from the crude to the subtle, that means we are all becoming more perfect, not because we then exist without flaws, but because eventually we join with the subtle; we experience merger with the subtle and thus completeness. You probably already know this, but that’s exactly what the word “yoga” means – unification.
In Sanskrit, the word yoga has two root verbs. One root verb is “Yuj” and another root verb is “yunj.” “Yuj” means to add, as in two plus two equals four. The other root verb for yoga is “yunj,” and it means to unify. My spiritual teacher gives the example of sugar and water. Adding sugar to water, sugar won’t be in a separate form from water – there will only be sugar water, and that’s precisely the unification we’re all moving toward: supreme sweetness.
Why do I bring this up? For me, it’s easy to launch into compare and despair. It’s easy for me to look at someone else and say, “Why don’t I have what they have? Why doesn’t my life look like theirs?” Particularly right now when many areas of my life are not what I’d like them to be, I start thinking I’m cursed. Not really, but it’s easy for me to slip into a victim mentality. When I think about yoga, I’m reminded all the things that happen to me, all the things I perceive to be good, and all the things I perceive to be bad, are bringing me closer to the supreme for the purpose of unification. That means the universe will keep sending me the same damn message over and over again because ultimately it’s for my benefit.
I dream of a world where we realize all the things that happen to us are in service of divine perfection. A world where we recognize we are moving from the crude to the subtle. A world where we understand we’re striving for unification in body, mind, and spirit. A world where we accept what the universe tells us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.