For audio, scroll to the bottom.
I have some hang-ups about money. I think it’s safe to say I’m not alone in this. For a long time I thought if I made a lot of money I would turn into a jerk, which is kind of silly because to paraphrase Henry Ford, money doesn’t change people, it merely unmasks them. If a person is naturally selfish or arrogant or greedy, the money brings that out. I’m not naturally mean spirited so I think it’s safe to say making more money won’t bring those qualities out in me.
Once I cleared that hurdle, the idea of being a “conscious millionaire” started to appeal to me. It sounds great! Someone who is kind and compassionate, but also has money. Someone who can donate to her favorite charities and change some things because as we’re all aware, in this day in age, money equals power. If I became the richest person in the world then I could change the rules and make things better for everyone! Except, in a conversation I had with a friend on Friday night, I realized being a conscious millionaire is not enough.
I want to live in a world where the mantra isn’t “consume.”
I’m currently in the middle of nowhere Missouri. I mean really middle of nowhere. The closest town (about 20 minutes away) has a population of around 2,000. When I think “middle of nowhere,” I think cheap. When I asked my friend how much he’s paying for internet, I nearly choked on my tea when he said a telephone and internet combo is costing him $100 a month. For a speed of 1.5 mbps! If I was in California, I could pay $65 a month for a speed of 45 mbps! What makes this all the more depressing is my location isn’t exactly booming economically, meaning the people who are the least likely able to afford $100 a month for a regular landline phone and DSL are the ones getting price gouged. The wealthy areas are where people are paying less for phone and internet service.
It was in that moment that I realized being a conscious millionaire would only help so much. Sure, I can donate to my favorite charities and help family and friends, but what about the people I’ll never meet? Those in the Ozarks or the Bible Belt or the Midwest? My millions won’t help them at all. The only thing that will help them is a complete dismantling of our current economic system. And that requires an economic revolution. A “reform” just won’t cut it. The very principles of capitalism are founded on greed and selfishness, and greed and selfishness have given us the world we currently live in.
But we don’t have to keep living in that world. Alternative economic systems exist. I’ve written about it before, but Prout – the Progressive Utilization Theory – is an alternative to capitalism and communism. Prout is economics based on compassion and love, on understanding all beings are worthy of love and respect. It takes out exploitation and gives more power to workers through its emphasis on cooperatives. The utilities – water, electricity, and in this day and age I would argue, internet – would be taken care of by the government so we no longer have a situation where someone in Missouri is paying $100 for slow speeds and poor service.
In the words of John Lennon, “You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.”
I dream of a world where economics is based on taking care of everyone rather than exploitation. A world where we share more than we consume. A world where we are stewards of the Earth rather than masters over it. A world where we’ve revolutionized our economy.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
For the audio version, scroll to the bottom.
There are many areas of my life where I have no idea what I’m doing. Because I have no idea what I’m doing, I look to other people for guidance because obviously they’ll know more than me. One such area is getting media coverage for myself as an inspirational speaker and for my book.
I’ve signed up for courses and seminars. I’ve read books, watched videos. I’ve been told this, like getting a job or a life partner, is a numbers game. That the more I blanket various media outlets the more likely something will pan out. Kind of like throwing spaghetti against the wall – at least one noodle will stick.
This seemed like an appropriate picture, no?
However, none of this has worked for me. When I complained to a new friend yesterday she said, “Of course, because you’re trying to replicate someone else’s experience. You’re on your own journey so you have to do what works for you.” The older I get the more I find this to be true. What works for others doesn’t work for me, and as much as I’d like to follow a formula, life isn’t like that. When I reflect on my past I very clearly see a guiding force, so perhaps it’s time to start trusting that force more and taking action when I am called to do so.
The other day this ad kept popping up for a website called “Help a Reporter Out.” I tried four times to close out the tab to no avail. Finally, I gave in and signed up. Wouldn’t you know it, the next day I received an email from a reporter looking for someone with my expertise. I kid you not.
I don’t know that it will amount to anything because stories get shelved all the time, but that’s not the point. The point is when I take inspired action, it always works out. The radio show I was interviewed for, the websites that published my work, they all came to fruition because an internal voice told me to contact them. What if instead of wasting my time querying people I don’t feel any resonance with, I only took action when I felt called to do so?
I dream of a world where we start listening to ourselves more. A world where we understand what works for others may not work for us. A world where we take action when it’s backed by intuition or spiritual knowledge. A world where our actions are inspired.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
For the audio version, scroll to the bottom.
All week it seems the thing I keep saying over and over again to friends is, “There is no ‘wrong’ choice,” so I decided it must be something to blog about.
When I’m confronted with a choice I’m often stricken with a sense of paralysis. “Oh no! Which way to go? What choice is the right one?” I freeze up because I’m so scared of making a mistake, that I’ll start down a certain road and realize it’s the most horrible one ever.
I know I usually write captions, but all I really want to say is can you believe this picture? Photo credit: David Marcu.
Something that soothes me and also feels liberating is remembering nothing is permanent. I know that sentiment often encourages people to live life to the fullest, or as if today was our last, but for me it also means if I make a “bad” choice, I can choose again. I can choose to navigate in a different direction. Nothing is stuck, or static, or stale.
What a relief to remember that. I think about when I was applying for colleges. It seemed like a weighty decision. That wherever I went would set me on a course for life so choosing wisely was imperative. So I did. And the school I went to was a terrible fit. What did I do? I transferred schools. There was no need for me to suffer where I was even though a part of me felt like I had to, that because I made this choice I must stick with it.
I know our society is all about sticking with things. Quitting is for losers or some such nonsense. I’m a believer in following things through to the end – if I say I’ll do something, I will, but when I feel like I have to stick with something just because I made the decision to do so, what am I really accomplishing? Wouldn’t it be better for me to have the flexibility to change my mind?
A while back I wrote a post on being unconventional. In it, I realized I’ve been looking for a home that feels like “the one.” A home that I’ll settle down in. A home that I’ll live in for years. These days, I’m not looking for “the one.” I’m realizing oh-so-clearly that I have to take a chance, and then if it doesn’t work out, I take another one. I don’t have to remain committed to a toxic situation. Now, when I’m looking for places to live, it’s not so serious. It’s not a life-or-death, I’m-locked-into-this-so-I-better-choose-wisely thing. It’s more of an, “OK, I’ll try this out for a while, see how it goes,” kind of thing.
We human beings were not made for staticity, we were made for movement. So when our choices seem not so great, we can make other ones. There are very few things that we truly can’t undo. I’m not saying there won’t be consequences – there are always consequences, but perhaps we don’t need to agonize quite so much at the beginning.
I dream of a world where we realize we have the power of choice and that means we can always choose again. A world where we realize if things are headed in a direction we don’t like, we can turn around. A world where we realize life is more flexible than it seems.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
For the audio version of this post, scroll to the bottom.
My recovery mentor often says to me, “Change happens on higher power’s timeline, and when it happens, it happens fast, so be ready.” Today I’m marveling at how true that is, particularly because I’m in a place that has seasons. In the Bay Area, there are two seasons: the dry season and the rainy season. In Missouri, there is a proper spring, summer, fall, and winter.
Last Wednesday, I was in shorts and t-shirt, dipping my legs in the lake. The very next day we had a thunderstorm replete with rain and lightning and then it was cold. Like, pull-out-my-fall- jacket cold. Like, turn-the-heat-on cold. It went from summer to fall in the course of a day. I realize comparing change to the seasons is not so valid anymore, considering that today the temperature is back up to the 70s, but change happens quickly in life too.
I do have to say, it’s really nice to see leaves like this again.
I read an interview about the recently departed Joan Rivers who I’d always unfairly dismissed as a mean-spirited comedian. There was a point in her life when she was blacklisted from The Tonight Show, her husband Edgar had killed himself, and her career was floundering. She seriously contemplated suicide. She said, “What saved me was my dog jumped into my lap. I thought, ‘No one will take care of him.’… I had the gun in my lap, and the dog sat on the gun. I lecture on suicide because things turn around. I tell people this is a horrible, awful, dark moment, but it will change and you must know it’s going to change and you push forward. I look back and think, ‘Life is great, life goes on. It changes.'”
As we all know, Joan went on to have a successful career and a rich life, but there was a point when she was thinking about ending it all. I also reflect on the turn of events for friends of mine. They’re getting married this winter and they didn’t even know each other a year ago! They met in the winter of 2013, got engaged in June 2014, and now they’re getting married.
Even in my own life I’ve seen how change happens quickly. One day I was settling into my new abode and within an hour a sweet situation turned sour and I started making plans to live elsewhere.
I often think change happens painfully slowly, that it’s gradual – and that is certainly true – but sometimes it also happens quickly, and we have no idea it’s coming even 10 minutes prior. At this point in my life when things are so up in the air, when I have no idea where I’ll be next, what will happen next, what lies before me, it’s heartening to remember my life won’t always look this way. That change happens on the universe’s timeline, and when it happens it can happen fast so I need to be ready.
I dream of a world where we have hope for the future. A world where we realize life can change for the better in an instant. A world where we understand our troubles will pass and we’ll be glad we stuck around to see it.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
For the audio version of this post, scroll to the bottom.
In this day and age it’s easy to believe we are the masters of our fates and the captains of our souls. I mean, heck, I can buy a pumpkin year round if I want to. I don’t have to ascribe to a growing season, and I can take a pill to regulate everything from bowel movements to babies. However, I’d like to suggest that we are perhaps unknowingly moving toward, or with, something greater than ourselves.
It’s officially the Jewish New Year (l’shana tova people!) and in addition to being a palindrome, 5775, this is also a sabbatical year. When I read that I literally laughed out loud. Traditionally, the sabbatical year applies to forgiving debts and leaving land fallow, but the spirit of it is rest and release.
I may be the captain of my soul but I’m floating on something. . .
I laughed because today I am flying to Missouri, or “the sticks” as my mother lovingly says, to have my own sabbatical. My primary purpose for uprooting myself for a few months is to rest. To sleep every day until 10 a.m. when I’ll start work, to take walks in nature, and remove myself from all stimuli. It may turn into a whole year, but the plan is to have my hibernation last for a few months. How perfect that my own sabbatical is coinciding with that of the Jewish sabbatical year! I didn’t plan it that way; I didn’t even know it was a rest year until two weeks ago.
What I love about this is my body, my brain, my something, is syncing up to a natural rhythm and cycle that I have no conscious knowledge of. My body, my brain, my something are taking care of me, are looking out for me, and I didn’t have to try at all. There’s an unseen force that is moving me. As much as I am the captain of my soul, my boat is sitting on water that has its own ebbs and flows. I’m being swept along with something massive and beautiful and poetic.
How refreshing! How relaxing! To not have to be in charge all the time and still be taken care of is a gift. It’s kind of exhausting being a captain isn’t it? To worry about where to steer and how fast you’re going and if you’re veering off course? It’s nice for me to take a step back and realize even when I stop trying I still end up on land. I’m speaking metaphorically, but did you know this also happened literally?
In 1947, Thor Heyerdahl constructed a raft called Kon-Tiki to cross the Pacific Ocean from South America to the Polynesian islands to show it was entirely possible that Peruvians settled the area in the pre-Columbian times. He wanted to show by using only the materials and technologies available to those people at the time, that there were no technical reasons to prevent them from having done so. And he did it. On a freaking raft. He smashed into a reef at Raroia in the Tuamotu Islands on August 7, 1947. Sometimes all that’s required of us is to turn our sail in the direction we want to go and let the current take us there.
I dream of a world where we honor the cycles we may be knowingly or unknowingly syncing up with. A world where we understand there’s a cosmic intellect that’s like an ocean current pulling us. A world where we set our sails and allow ourselves to be carried along.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
For the audio version of this post, scroll to the bottom.
This whole week the concept of bit by bit, of doing things in small chunks, has been on my mind because I’m again in the midst of packing, so I’m reposting this blog from about a year ago.
I’m sitting in my cottage surrounded by boxes — although not as many as last week! — and what I want is to unpack everything now. I want to be settled now. I want all the organizing to be done now. I want my big payday right this minute, not little by little.
I quite often forget this concept of bit by bit, baby steps, slow and steady wins the race, etc. because I’m attracted by the big and bold, by pomp and circumstance. I love hearing about seemingly overnight success and Cinderella stories because, well, I’m impatient.
Bit by bit adds up to something grand.
Bit by bit is important for me to remember because more often it’s the case someone is wealthy because they know how to save — they sock away money a little bit here, a little bit there. More often it’s the case an actor has been auditioning for years before they become an “overnight” success. Truly it’s the baby steps, the hard work along the way that builds up to something great. Rome wasn’t built in a day and nor will my cottage be unpacked in a day. I want to be a best-selling author this minute, but when I focus on the big goal I forget about selling one book at a time to one person at a time.
For someone like me who’s melodramatic and makes big drastic changes quite frequently, doing something bit by bit is crucial. When I look at all the things that have stuck with me — my meditation practice, my yoga practice, my recovery from addiction — it’s because I did things little by little. They’ve become permanent fixtures in my life because I took action every single day — not because I made one grand sweeping gesture. Sure, the grand gestures are fun and exciting, but it’s the little actions everyday that have made the most lasting impact.
I don’t know that anyone else will get anything out of this blogpost, but I guess I’m saying for today I realize there is value in the small things. In doing things one day at a time, bit by bit. Yes, I’m impressed by vast canyons, but that’s because I’m seeing the end results — many canyons are created by water wearing down rock little by little, day by day. Bit by bit adds up to something beautiful and grand, and right now is the time for me to practice that, knowing eventually I’ll see the results I’m looking for.
I dream of a world where we value doing something bit by bit. A world where we understand constant and steady pressure adds up to something amazing. A world where we have patience with ourselves and each other. A world where we cherish our baby steps.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
For the audio version of this post, scroll to the bottom.
I want to be happy all the time. I don’t think I’m alone in this. What I’m noticing lately is whenever I’m scared or anxious I turn into Judgey McJudgerson and tell myself it’s bad to feel what I’m feeling. I make myself feel worse because I tell myself it’s stupid for me to startle at every noise or to have a fear of driving. Mostly I tell myself I shouldn’t feel the way I do.
Even if I don’t explicitly tell myself I shouldn’t feel scared or anxious or unhappy, I do so tacitly whenever I try to change my feelings. When I use affirmations, yoga, meditation, tapping, self-talk, going to my happy place, etc. I’m not saying these are bad tools, they’ve been very helpful, but this week I’ve been trying something new, which is to let myself be. To let the anxiety spring up without judging it, without trying to change it. Just noticing it and seeing what happens.
Let it be! I’m not sure why this image says “let it be” to me but it does. Image by James Douglas.
Ever since I was hit by a car in November, I’ve felt a little panicky every time I cross the street. My heart starts to race and I have to psyche myself up, triple checking where the cars are to ensure my safety. When I’ve tried something different, i.e. neutrality and self-compassion, I’ve noticed my fear of crossing the street has abated.
I don’t know this will work all the time, but it’s a bit of a relief to not try so hard to feel a certain way. To not judge myself and criticize myself for feeling something I don’t perceive everyone else does (i.e. being afraid of crossing the street). When I treat myself with love and self-compassion, the anxiety doesn’t fight back nearly as strongly.
Why am I telling you this? Maybe you can relate. Maybe you try to coerce yourself into being happy all the time or believing that if you’re not it’s your fault. That you’re not thinking the right thoughts, or meditating enough, or affirming enough, or eating the right food. And while those things may be true, what’s also true is that you and I are human. We are made to experience emotions. We are made to experience highs and lows. It’s unrealistic to expect that I’ll be happy all the time, and placing that expectation upon myself only makes when I’m unhappy that much worse.
How much easier would it be if we let our emotions pass like petals floating down a stream? If we didn’t expect that we could control our emotions with such exactitude? If we practiced radical self-acceptance and were kinder and gentler to our internal selves? I, for one, am finding there are a lot of emotions I’ve buried beneath my anxiety, and I wonder if I excavate them and allow myself to feel them, if my anxiety will disappear.
I dream of a world where we don’t try to force ourselves to feel one way or another. A world where we practice neutrality and self-compassion instead of judgment for our inner selves. A world where we let ourselves be.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
For the audio version of this post, scroll to the bottom.
“View your life with kindsight. Stop beating yourself up about things from your past. Instead of slapping yourself on the forehead and asking, ‘What was I thinking?’ breathe and ask the kinder question, ‘What was I learning?’” – Karen Salmansohn
I love this concept of kindsight, of viewing my past mistakes with compassion, but I’ll be honest, it’s soooo hard. Far easier for me to beat myself up for eternity. For instance, I still think about a mistake I made in 7th grade and burn with shame and embarrassment. I think it’s because in a weird way I believe by beating myself up about it over and over again I’ll keep myself from repeating it. Like that saying, “If you don’t remember the past you’re doomed to repeat it.”
View your past mistakes through the eyes of love!
Well, I’m so desperate not to repeat the past that I remember it and remember it and remember it . . . I have the “remembering the past” thing down pat so perhaps it’s time to move onto, “What was I learning?” If I ask, “What was I learning?” that means I can cut out the self-flagellation bit and focus on the lesson. Although, I have to be honest, at the moment I’m self-reflecting and beating myself up. One step at a time I guess.
On Friday, a friend asked me to speak about self-compassion (go figure) and it occurred to me the most compassionate thing I do for myself is let the mistake go. Not justify, not say, “Mistakes are human,” not remind myself I didn’t know better or nobody’s perfect, or any of the million things we say to ourselves and each other when we make a mistake. Just let it go. Say to myself, “OK. That happened. Let’s move on.”
To me, kindsight is about integrating the lesson to a degree I don’t have to constantly remind myself what I did wrong because I’ve already taken corrective measures. And it’s about trusting myself that I won’t make the same mistake, or at least I won’t in the exact same way, and if I do, I can forgive myself.
Ah forgiveness. That’s another tough one. I find it about a bajillion times easier to forgive other people, even people who’ve been mean to me, than to forgive myself. When I look at my character traits I see that lack of compassion for others isn’t one of them, but I certainly lack compassion for myself. I have such a big heart; perhaps it’s time to turn all that love, affection, forgiveness, and compassion inward. It sure beats the alternative.
I dream of a world where we have more compassion for ourselves. A world where we practice gentleness about our past mistakes. A world where we integrate the lessons we’ve learned and let go of the harmful deeds. A world where we view our past with kindsight.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
For the audio version of this post, scroll to the bottom.
I’m sure this will come as a big shock, but I’m hard on myself. I can’t seem to let go of previous mistakes. On Wednesday, I didn’t turn right fast enough. I kept waiting for the far left lane to be clear so I could merge into it and thus avoid having to change lanes quickly later on. The car behind me did not like this, honked at me, and exclaimed, “You’re not turning left!” I’ve been thinking about it ever since.
I feel uncomfortable because 1.) a stranger honked and yelled at me and 2.) he was probably right. I probably could have turned right much sooner than I did. I want strangers to like me. I’m bothered by brief interactions with others because I don’t get to hash things out with them, there’s no chance to explain or justify. The person is left with only one impression and that makes me uncomfortable.
I saw this image and I couldn’t resist! I’m an INFJ and it’s so true!
On my best days, I approach mistakes as opportunities, as learning experiences. I remind myself I can’t know everything in advance and the only one who expects me to do everything perfectly every time is me. Oh perfectionism, how I’d like to do without thee.
Another reason I’m uncomfortable with brief interactions with strangers is I want to be able to control outcomes and reactions. I want to be able to predict how somebody will respond and it’s impossible to do that with strangers, and even people I know, really. Trying to do things so that I get the reaction I desire out of someone else is called manipulation, or perhaps people pleasing. At the moment, people pleasing and perfectionism have morphed into martyrdom. I don’t want to displease others so I’m willing to suffer at my own expense.
There is nothing noble about this. Sacrifice is a tenet of my spiritual practices, but there’s a difference between sacrificing out of love for another, or love for a country, and sacrificing so people like me. When I start to allow myself to sacrifice so much that I suffer, I turn myself into a martyr, a role no one asked me to play. I allow other people’s needs and wishes to become more important than mine and that’s not acceptable. If I don’t take care of myself, neither will anyone else.
My needs are just as important as someone else’s. Not more important, not less important, equally important. When I turn into a people-pleasing martyr, I’m saying to myself and to the other person, “I don’t matter, my needs don’t matter.” You know what? They do. Especially if I’m paying for them. I have every right to send food back at a restaurant. I have every right to ask my neighbors to turn down their music at night. The answer may be “No,” but I still have a right to ask. And as I’ve seen time and time again, even when the answer is “No,” my higher power still takes care of me in interesting and creative ways I could never have imagined.
I dream of a world where we strike the right balance between sacrifice and selfishness. A world where we don’t needlessly suffer on someone else’s behalf. A world where we stand up for ourselves, remembering we have to be our own heroes. A world where we do our best to take care of ourselves and when that’s not possible, we remember higher power has it covered.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
For the audio version of the post, scroll to the bottom.
When I look around at what’s going in on the world I feel powerless and depressed. I have to keep reminding myself things are not always what they seem, that I have more power than I think I do, but it’s incredibly difficult. I want other people to tell me happy, optimistic things, but I’m realizing (yet again) I have to do that for myself.
Yesterday, I saw pictorial evidence about how severe the drought in California is. I’m posting two of the pictures below:
Here, the Enterprise Bridge spans the Lake Oroville in Butte County, California in July 2011.
Here, the Enterprise Bridge spans the same reservoir in 2014. (Source)
Whoa. You guys those pictures are scary. This is usually where I would tell you to stop watering your lawn or to turn off the faucet when you brush your teeth, but only about 4 percent of California’s water footprint is individual, personal use. According to a 2012 Pacific Institute report, 93 percent of California’s water use goes to agriculture. When I say “agriculture” I don’t mean lettuce. I’m talking about meat. OneGreenPlanet.Org wrote an article about this and cited studies from Cornell and other places that found it takes 100 times more water to produce one pound of animal protein than one pound of grain protein.
I really hate talking about food choices because I was teased so mercilessly for being a vegetarian as a child. And I have an eating disorder so I’m really uncomfortable talking about food. However, having said that, if you are as scared looking at those drought pictures as I am, perhaps it’s time to get uncomfortable. According to the Environmental Working Group, if everyone in the U.S. ate no meat or cheese just one day a week, it would be like not driving 91 billion miles – or taking 7.6 million cars off the road.
Of course political action is also necessary, but cutting down meat consumption is something we as individuals have control over right now. And if you want to contribute even more, there’s a petition you can sign that urges the California legislature to reject any attempt to weaken, water down, or delay implementation of California’s best climate change law. If you live in New York, or plan to be in New York City in September, there’s a People’s Climate March to demand that world leaders aim high, and create the solutions we need to combat the climate crisis.
The things that give me hope about the environmental state of the world are that things like the People’s Climate March are happening, that some cities have banned plastic bags, and that the awareness about eating better has taken off. It’s a small thing, but I’ve also started blogging for Going2Natural.com where I and other women are writing about the small things we’re doing to save money and promote a more sustainable lifestyle.
This morning I woke up with the song “Ooh child things are gonna get easier” stuck in my head. Maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling me things will get brighter but only if you and I take the necessary action steps.
I dream of a world where we understand we are all stewards of the Earth and it’s our job to take care of it and each other. A world where we do our best to use resources as responsibly as possible. A world where we understand our choices do indeed affect the climate.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.